Together Apart

Chapter One: August

I scan the crowded room anxiously for his face. The music is too loud and the people are too close; I'm starting to feel trapped. I squeeze past the drunk dancers, letting my gut feeling guide me. Maybe it's just the alcohol, but my head hurts more than normal, and I'm suddenly afraid he's left. But then I spot him in the corner trying to disappear into a large plant. I should've guessed he would be away from the action; he hates parties. My anxiety fades as I walk closer to him, just as it always does. Stupid curse. He sees me coming, and looks relieved. It's not me he's happy about, it's just because he wants to leave; if he could never see me again, he'd be ecstatic.

When I reach his hiding place, I grab his hand and pull him toward the door, saying nothing. I don't like to talk to him when I'm drunk, because I get mean. I'm not cruel; both of us are already suffering enough--I don't need to make his life harder than it already is. I drop his hand once we're outside, and we walk side by side, in silence, through the dark streets back toward campus. Other partiers, some visibly drunker than others, rush past us in both directions, on their way to the bars or maybe another house party. It's only just after one in the morning, and the parties are still in full swing, but shouting to your friends over the music is only fun for so long, and that on top of the constant underlying anxiety I feel when Liam isn't right next to me was just too much for me tonight. He could socialize, but he knows that his introversion gets under my skin, and he knows we'll leave earlier the farther he gets from me. I'm fairly sure he's mad at me for what I said to him this morning; I'll admit, it was a little harsh, but he's just so sensitive. Whatever--I wasn't feeling it tonight anyway.

We make it back on campus, and I can't keep quiet any longer. 

 "You're mad at me, aren't you?" I ask, the gin making me more blunt than is perhaps wise. Liam doesn't respond, because the answer is obvious. I walk ahead and turn to face him, blocking his path. "Look, I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean it." He brushes past me, still saying nothing. "I don't know what you want from me!" I shout after him.

"I want to never have to see you again," he mumbles under his breath. I catch up to him, and notice for the first time the flush in his cheeks. He's been drinking too. I open my mouth to say something else, but think better of it. I've learned from experience that it's no use trying to reason with him when he's drunk. I'll try again in the morning.

As we enter our dorm, I smile at the guard; Liam doesn't acknowledge her. I trudge up the stairs behind him, watching the back of his head idly as we climb. His hair looks darker than normal, and his usual careless waves have turned into loose curls. Girls love Liam's hair; if only Liam showed any interest in them. I laugh under my breath at the thought--Liam is famously inept when it comes to women. They have too many emotions, he says. When we get to our room, Liam fumbles in his pockets for his key, swearing quietly. I have mine ready, so I nudge him aside and unlock the door. I hear his breathing hitch slightly when our skin touches, and I feel it too: the relief is immediate. Still, he jerks his arm away quickly, sacrificing his own comfort to prevent mine. It's petty, but I would do, and have done, the same thing. It's been a long two years.

I hold the door open for Liam, who brushes past me and flops onto his bed. We're definitely not sharing tonight. I step into the bathroom, closing the door before I turn on the light so I don't disturb him more than I have to. I stare at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth, studying my eyes and hair as I try to ignore the slight twinge in my stomach. When I'm done, I exit the bathroom as quietly as I can, but when I hear Liam's soft snores coming from his side of the room, I relax; once he's asleep, he's impossible to wake up. I've always envied how fast he can fall asleep; he can pass out in minutes, while I spend hours tossing and turning, trying to quiet my thoughts. I turn on the flashlight on my phone, keeping the light low as I change out of my going out clothes and into the loose pair of shorts I sleep in. In the soft glow, I notice that Liam is still wearing his shoes. I consider leaving them, but they're particularly dirty, and chances are I'll be sleeping in those sheets soon, so I begin to untie them. I slip them off his feet slowly, on the off chance that he wakes up, but when he doesn't, I let my hand lightly brush the bare skin at his ankle. I take a deep breath, and for once I feel like I can breathe in all the way. Liam stirs, and I drop my hand, sighing. It's better that I go to bed now, or else I'll stand there all night, relishing in the respite from the constant ache in the back of my head. I curl up in bed, drawing the covers over me, and try to ignore the urge to squeeze myself into Liam's bed. If he woke up and found me there it would just make it worse. Luckily, the night's festivities have dulled my internal monologue, and I drift off to sleep without another thought.