One Fucked Up World

Chapter Six

Six

     I woke up and my eyes hurt. It was the third night that I had to cry myself to sleep. It was tiring, all these routines of crying. Max made breakfast and I sat around the table. Max talked, but I was thinking about going back to my dreams last night. I had seen Tommy, again and again. It would be great that I didn't have to get up, wouldn't it?

     "Are you even listening to me?" Max waved his fork in front of me.

     "I am," I said. "Girls like flower. Buy her some pansies. She will love pansies."

     "But do you really think it will work?" Max said confusedly, "what if she wouldn't forgive me? I sounded really mean the other night."

     "Calm down," I said. "Just take her to eat pizza. Make her laugh. Be cheeky."

     "That's what Tommy does and Anne is not-" Max smiled lightly though I was quite sure that he didn't want to. He went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He didn't take out anything and he closed it, "she's damn busy practising for the play after New Year."

     "Cook something for her then," I suggested. "Smile and give her hugs."

     Max shook his head and he smiled, "Sounds great."

     "I'm going to Harry's," I said. "He's sick."

     "That's why he called Bonn about not turning up at Jen's just now. You're spending a lot of time with him these two days."

     "Harry is smart and lovely," I said.

     "Do you really like him?" Max scowled at me, "I don't understand what he's saying sometimes. I just thought you'd - "

     "I don't understand what I'm talking about too sometimes, do you like me then?"

     "Cheeky," Max smiled.

     It wasn't serious, Harry only got a fever. But I had to go and I thought of what I was going to say when I found Don there. I thought of his face and how he left, and I thought of forgiving him and how I wanted to find him. I thought of how to talk to him. I thought of not being terrified by him. I wouldn't be stuttering; I was not Harry.

     Zara was in the shop, she was grateful that I came to visit. I went upstairs to the house. It was like a flowery planet with plants all over the shelves and cupboards. There the monster was.

     Don was sitting in a corner next to the window with a mug of smoking drink. Could that be poison? I wished it was. Piles of books were on the table and he was typing something with his laptop. He looked up and looked at me.

     "He's in his room," Don said quietly before looking at his computer again.

     I knocked before getting into Harry's room. There was a brown desk, a brown carpet and brown wallpapers. I hated brown. Harry was sleeping against the headboard. He was playing something. I looked at the track name on the computer. It was Caro mio ben. Luciano Pavarotti's. Well, where honestly was "My Dear Beloved"?

     I sat on the bed. I traced along his jaw. What was I doing with Harry?

     He opened his eyes sleepily. He was adjusting the light, I supposed.

     "You came," he said in a raucous voice. "Mum said that, and I thought, like, you wouldn't come."

     "Max sent his love," I said.

     "I am really happy to see you," Harry said and he sat up on his bed. "I've never thought about it. Us. I - I know I've said in the car before, but I'm so glad that -"