How I Heal

eight

It wasn't long before I dreaded going to practice.

It wasn't the prospect of practice itself that left me bothered but the constant fights and attitudes that followed.

Nobody ever seemed to be able to agree on anything literally and I was sick of staying back for hours for practices that weren't even doing anything productive.

Combined with the constant rain that never seemed to stop coming, I was just a mess of a person who was either extremely somber or extremely aggravated.

It wasn't a good week at all.

To make matters worse, I hadn't seen Harry since the incident, and I wondered a bit worriedly, why he kept missing so many days of school.

I knew it wasn't any of my business and believe me when I say the last thing I wanted to do was pry, but I couldn't help but think about it anytime it ran on my mind.

After practice today, I dragged myself out of the room hurriedly, not wanting to be forced to have conversation with any of the people in here.

Don't get me wrong, I love striking up a good convo when the time's right, but with the amount of hours I had spent in this room, it was only fair that I left as soon as it was over.

Getting home in little to no time, I pushed the door and was greeted by my parents.

My dad sat in the living room, his eyes glued on his 6th rerun of "Game of Thrones."

I originally got him into it on a whim, but I had recently been regretting it. He was obsessed. The worst part of him binging it was that he didn't mind spoiling it for everyone else around him, so more often than not, I had to avoid him.

"Hey sweetie," he greeted me as I waved. It was a miracle he even noticed my entrance.

I poked my head into my parents' bedroom, my mother coming into view.

Her brown eyes focused on the computer before her, her eyebrows dipping at whatever she was looking at.

"Hey mom," I chirped.

"Hey honey," she replied her focus shifting to me.

She gave me a smile before I returned it and ran off to my bedroom.

All in all, I had pretty great parents.

All in all, I had everything pretty great.

But that's the funny thing about life and existing in a particular space, when you get too comfortable it has a way of making you uncomfortable.

It was only a little after 6 pm when my cell phone started to ring. I laid in my bed, my fingers typing away at a piece for my writing class when I picked up the device.

"Come over," Henrietta voiced. "Henry, somethings wrong with Henry."

The worry in her voice was evident and I could feel the uneasiness inside of me take over.

"What's wrong with Henry?" I heard myself ask, my bottom lip slipping into my mouth out of worry.

"Just come over," she told me. "Hurry."

I didn't need to ask anymore questions before I shot up, pushing my feet into shoes and ran to my parents' room.

"Mom, Dad," I quickly said. "Something's wrong with Henry."

They both looked at each other with worried expressions before asking what was wrong with him.

"I don't know," I honestly told them. "But Henrietta just called and asked me to come over. Can I?"

My mom looked at me for a second with something indescribable in her features before nodding slightly.

"Do you need a ride sweetie?" My dad asked, his face reflecting mom's.

"I'll drive," I assured them both. "Thank you!"

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"This is the emergency?" I questioned, my head tilting to the left.

"Well yeah, he won't come out of his room!" Henrietta yelled.

Rolling my eyes I knocked on Henry's door.

"Henry," I called.

No one answered.

"Henry, I've got Rick Riordan books," I lied, knowing I didn't have anything but my empty hands. "All 5."

It was silent for a second, before I heard the sound of a latch and a knob being twisted.

"Go away," he quipped.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong, I won't," I folded my arms. I could be stubborn when I was passionate about something. In this case I was passionate about making him feel better.

"Kourtney from school," he drawled, his tone suddenly dry. "She told me she had a thing for me and we proceeded to date. We kissed a couple of times. I thought she liked me but apparently she's been having sex with the captain of the lacrosse team. Any other questions?"

"Henry," I uttered, my voice faltering. "I'm so sorr-"

"Sucks doesn't it," he said. "Yeah, I know. Goodbye now."

He slammed the door and I heard the latch close.

I turned to Henrietta a defeated look on my face.

"Well," she looked at me. "You got any other plans?"

I racked my brain wondering how I could get my best friends attention without him slamming the door in my face a second time.

Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything and in less than 5 minutes, I ended up knocking on Henry's door until he opened up.

"What?" He grimaced.

"Listen," I exhaled. "Henry, you need to know, she's just one girl. I know what she did was messed up and I can understand if you think you can never trust another girl until the day you die but can you please come out of there and talk to me?"

I heard Henrietta clear her throat behind me and it took my entire existence not to roll my eyes.

"Us?" I corrected.

There was a long silence before the door opened.

He eyed us both impassively before sighing and saying fine.

We both cheered as he stepped out, my eyes quickly noticing the bandage on his right arm.

"How'd that happen?" I asked him, reaching for his sprained wrist.

It looked pretty painful.

"Oh this," he said nonchalantly. "I punched the captain of the lacrosse team."

My jaw dropped.

"Henry?!" I whisper yelled.

Who was this guy?

"Ugh get over it already," he rolled his eyes walking into the kitchen. "Anybody hungry? I know I am."