Approximately 2 Years [×Lunch Club×]

Close Enough...

==THIS CHAPTER MENTIONS SELF HARM BRIEFLY==

also sorry for not updating but here ya go:

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Travis sat on the closed toilet, holding his head between his hands. ‘I shouldn’t have come here. I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight.’ He ran his hands through his hair, letting it down so he could hide his face.

Getting up, he started pacing back and forth in the small space, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess and his eyes were getting red. He wanted to cry, but what was the point? Why would he be crying in the first place? What was the trigger? No one would be able to hear him crying over all the noise. It’s not like anyone would care, anyway. He gripped the edge of the sink and pressed his hips against it, leaning his head against the mirror.

To distract himself, he would usually go hang out with his friends, but he was already with all his friends. They were just on the other side of that door. But they can't see him like this! The next best thing to help him would be to jack off, but there's no way in heck that he was doing that in someone else's house. Though… The thought of having to stay quiet and not get caught turned him on just a bit… Maybe he could just… Travis ran his thumb just under his waistband. Someone outside broke into a coughing fit.

Nope! Not happening! Nah!

He took a few deep breaths, and then, sighing lightly and relaxing a little, he started rolling his hips against the counter and moaned. ‘God, this is so stupid. Why can’t I just be normal?’ Once he realized what he was doing with his body, he pulled away from the sink, looking at himself in the mirror one more time before he sat on the ground and slowly started crying.

This. This is why he never went out. He could so easily picture himself rummaging through Liam’s cabinets like a drug addict, knowing it was easy to find something sharp enough. He could tear a razor blade out of a shaving utensil if he wanted to. He had the practice for that, that was sure.

‘Travis. W-what is that?’ ‘What, this cut? It’s just from Betsy.’ ‘Betsy? Your cat? Travis, you don’t have any cats right now.’ ‘It’s from my cat, dude.’ ‘Travis, you can talk to me. I’m your friend. I’m here for you, you know.’ ‘Cooper. It’s from my cat, it’s not a big deal.’ ‘It is a big deal, Travis! It's a big deal to me! You wanna know why? Because I care about you, and I know you don’t have a cat!' 'Cooper…' 'You think I don’t know what self-harm scars look like?’ ‘C-Cooper, please!’ ‘I’m not gonna stop until you tell me everything, or give me everything you’ve used. All of it.’ ‘Cooper, I’m tired and you’re giving me a headache. I’m going to bed. We can talk tomorrow.’ ‘Travis. I want you to be safe. I’m staying the night.’ ‘No, you aren’t.’ ‘Yes. I am. I’m staying here tonight, and there’s no convincing me otherwise.’

Knock knock knock knock

Travis’ head shot up and he instinctively reached for the doorknob, holding the door closed, just in case. “Uhm, o-occupied!” There was a pause. “Travis?” The voice was familiar to Travis, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Yes?” Apparently the confusion in his voice was clear, because the person immediately introduced themselves. (Or, rather, re-introduced.

“It’s  me, Caiden. Caiden the Weed Boy?” Travis’ eyes went wide and a smile spread across his face. He stood up, leaning against the door. “Caiden! Hey! I’ll be out in a minute if you wanna talk!” Caiden seemed to lean in closer to the door, his voice getting slightly less muffled. “Or maybe… just smoke?” Travis’ heart started beating fast. “Y-yeah! Of course! See ya in a bit then.” He heard Caiden walk away, and he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. 

Caiden was Travis’ biggest crush, on and off after freshman year, just before he started getting depressed. Then his parents died, and he got even more depressed, not even having the energy to like himself, much less like other people more than necessary. He didn't have any classes with him at the moment, but, turns out, he might still like Caiden.

For just a moment, he thought about Caiden and let himself savor the feeling. He was feeling… happy. Actually, decently happy. There were also those little butterflies in his stomach that separate the feeling of just being happy, from being in lo- liking someone. Travis wasn’t in love. It was a crush. Just a stupid schoolgirl crush.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Hey, man, hurry up! I gotta piss.”

It wasn’t Caiden this time, but Travis’ jumped up anyway, whipping the door open to find some fuckboy-jock waiting for the bathroom. The man lightly pushed Travis to the side, mumbling an apology as Travis walked out of the bathroom and into the hallway. The bathroom door was impressingly good at soundproofing, and Travis suddenly felt claustrophobic from all the noise.

"Travis."

        At the sound of his name being whispered in his ear, Travis jumped and squealed, spinning around to see Caiden behind him, blunt in hand. "Sorry I scared you, Travie. You okay?" Travis' heart soared from the adrenaline. Caiden’s eyes, his bucket hat (the grey one, Travis' favorite,) and even the way he was holding the blunt. He. Is so. Perfect. "Yea, Cay. I couldn't be any better."

        And that was true. In fact, that was probably one of the most honest things he had said about how he felt. He really couldn't get any better. This was his peak for today… but he knew there was always a crash after his high points; and when Travis crashed, he crashed hard.