twenty-five

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        "Please talk to me, mate. I'm sorry. I just... I was scared, alright? So I told Grace. I know that was a dick move and I'm an absolute piece of shit. Please, Adam. I need you," I said into my phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

        He hadn't responded once. He read all the texts I sent him— I could see that— but he never answered a call or responded, and I was beginning to get worried.

        The night after the game, I cried into my pillow until my eyes stung and I didn't have the strength to open them. I started texting him the second I woke up and didn't stop until I realised he wasn't even reading anything I sent anymore. It was mostly misspelled apologies and word vomit of whatever came to mind, but it still made me nervous he hadn't even opened them.

        he could be crying

        he could be hurting himself

        he could be dead

        Everything that could have possibly happened to my him sped through my mind on a loop, each terrible scenario slowly digging its way deeper into my brain until I couldn't think of anything else and I wasn't sure I ever would be able to. I sat staring at my wall for hours, letting myself fall into a trance that I felt like I'd never escape from. I just kept thinking and thinking and thinking and I couldn't stop. I gave up trying after an hour or two and decided staring at the blank wall and not feeling anything at all was better than being conscious and feeling everything.

        I stayed like that for hours on end, until 2:00 in the morning, when my phone buzzed and snapped me awake.

To: Lij
I'm only doing this because you gave me a chance to explain before

To: Lij
Five minutes

        A wave of relief washed over me as I read and reread the texts over and over, the fear of something happening to Adam becoming nearly nonexistent, unlike the guilt still building in my system. I threw on a jumper and some random basketball shorts from my floor before jumping out my window and sprinting as fast as I could to the pool, not even caring that I'd left my phone on my bed and my window cracked open. I hadn't thought about what I was going to say, but for once I felt like I didn't need to plan it out. All I knew was that I needed to make this right, and I was sure the messy apology that probably would come out wasn't going to be perfect, but it would be good enough, because it would be coming from the heart, raw and filled with every emotion I felt.

        The normal ten minute jog turned into a three minute sprint as I arrived at the pool and slid down without stumbling, something I'd gotten quite good at. Something I really didn't want to stop doing. I landed perfectly on the pool tile, the sound of my trainers slapping the floor echoing around the circle and causing Adam to jump a bit.

        "Hi," I said, radiating nonchalance in hopes to calm the situation a bit.

        He already looked bored with his headphones glued in his ears and his almond eyes glaring daggers at me. I decided my confidence tactic wasn't working too well.

        "Look," I said, taking a step closer to where he was sitting criss cross on the ground, "I had no right to tell Grace."

        He nodded.

        "And I know that I should've just kept it to myself. But... you have to understand. I was scared."

        His eyes widened in fake shock. "You? Scared of something? No way."

        I gritted my teeth together and took a deep breath. "You don't have to go there," I told him.

        "No, actually, I think I do. I know everything you're afraid of, Eli, even the stupid shit. And have I ever been weirded out by you because of it?" He asked, rising to his feet and dropping his calm demeanor. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his as my breath quickened. His eyes were full of fire and he clenched his jaw so hard he could've broken it.

        "That's different."

        "No. It isn't."

        I tugged my sleeves down so they covered my hands, just in case. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for telling her. You didn't deserve it at all. You never tell your other friends about my problems, so why should I tell my girlfriend?"

        "It's not just that, Elijah. You left me," he told me, his voice bitter, but soft, like he was trying not to get angrier than he had to be.

        I drew my brows together and recounted the past week. "Sorry?"

        He sighed. "You left me at my house that day. You saw what happened and you knew what was going on, and you just ran? Who the fuck runs away when their friend needs them?"

        I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he cut me off with a cruel laugh. "Oh, right. You do, Elijah. You do, because it's easy to run away from your problems instead of facing them. Because it's easy to just deal with your own issues and not even think about other people. Right? You're the only one with problems," he snapped, his tone becoming more accusing by the second.

         I fought the urge to take a step back, and instead I tensed up and took deep breathes, counting quickly. I could feel his heated stare on me as he waited, his eyes narrow and full of pent up anger. I opened my eyes a second later, and he was waiting for me to say something.

        "I didn't know you needed me."

        "Are you fucking joking?" He shouted, his voice wavering, "I needed you more than ever! Didn't you hear the entire conversation? My mum was about to take away my favourite person in the whole world, ship him off to live with my shit father, and then leave me home with nobody until I leave for uni in two years. Did you hear any of that bullshit? She practically told me that she didn't care about me or my baby brother. Don't you think you should've been there for me as my best mate and all?"

        "I was scared!" I yelled back, forcing back tears. "I have no idea how to help you with that! You punched a hole in your desk, Adam. What was I supposed to do?"

        "Comfort me or something?" He cried, unable to hold back like he was before. "You could've talked to me, or stood by me, or at least gotten me a bandaid. But you just fucking ran!"

        He took a shaky breath and hastily rubbed at his eyes before starting up again. "I slept with you in this pool on the bloody floor just to make sure you wouldn't go home and do something stupid. I watched you fall apart right in front of me, crying about how everyone hates you and how you'd be better off alone and how you wanted to fucking die. Do you know how terrifying that shit was for me? I had no idea what I was doing, but I stayed with you because I knew you wouldn't do fine on your own. Why didn't you stay with me?"

        "I-I-I don't know," I admitted quietly, afraid that if I spoke up my voice would reveal how distraught I really was.

        "I needed you," he hissed.

        "I know."

        "I thought for once, I found someone who wouldn't leave when something goes wrong."

        "I'm here now, Adam."

        "But you left before! How am I supposed to know you won't do it again?"

        "Because you have to trust me!" I yelled back, my stress levels climbing by the second.

        He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it like it was the only thing he could grasp to keep him balanced. "How the fuck am I supposed to trust you? You told your girlfriend about me, you left me alone when I was at my worst, and you have this weird thought in your fucked up head that I'm gonna hurt you. Eli, if I ever lay a hand on you, run. Tell the Grace, tell your football team, tell the bloody police. But I know for a fact that I will never ever hurt you, because I know that I'm not that kind of person, no matter how pissed off I am."

        "My head is not fucked up," I snapped, barely even listening to the rest of his rant.

        He dramatically rolled his eyes and groaned. "That too! Christ, Eli, I hate to break it to you, but you're not normal."

        normalnormalnormal

        I winced when he said it, like he'd just slapped me in the face. Tears stung my eyes as I squeezed them shut, forcing myself to stay strong. "I am," I mumbled through clenched teeth.

        "No, you aren't. I'm not either. Nobody is! There is no normal because everybody's got their issues. You aren't the only one in the whole world with problems, you've just let it take over your life! It's like the real Elijah is lost inside your head. You're anxiety isn't the only thing you are and you refuse to understand that!"

        "Stop it!" I shouted, "this isn't about me. We're here because of you. It's not the time to analyse my thoughts or whatever. You punched a desk."

        He pinched the bridge of his nose and for the first time under the streetlights next to the pool, I saw how red and splotchy his face had become. He was crying, and even though it was barely noticeable and probably would only last a minute or so, I really saw how vulnerable he was. He stepped into the pool— without any music playing, for that matter— and got constantly reminded of the shitstorm that was going on at home, all because I didn't trust someone I knew would never hurt me. I knew Grace made up rumours about him, and I knew that he wasn't violent, but I didn't really understand that everything was fabricated to make him seem like a bad person until I talked to him.

        "Adam, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking-"

        "Why do you still try to be friends with me if you're so scared I'm going to hurt you?" He questioned, causing me to freeze in my place.

        "Because you're my best mate and I need you," I told him.

        He shook his head, his already wild hair flopping around and sticking up in every direction. "You don't mean that."

        "Yes I do," I said, because I did. I 100% completely did.

        "No you don't."

        "Yes. I swear I do."

        "You hate me, don't you?" He asked, his voice breaking, "you hate me because I made you have a panic attack and I called you not normal and you think I'm going to hurt you, yeah?"

        "No, Adam. Will you just-"

        His eyes were wide, and in the moonlight I could see tears pooled up in the corner. "I'm not a dangerous person, Eli. I would never hurt you."

        "I know you wouldn't."

        "No, but you're still afraid."

        "I'm not," I protested, taking a step closer to prove my point.

        He looked down at me and took a shaky breath, ready to speak again and probably start up another fight, but something inside my chest exploded, and I felt the overwhelming urge to do something extremely stupid.

        Before he could let another word out, I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him down to me so our lips collided. I kissed him quickly and passionately, pushing my face towards him and taking his lips in mine, and I immediately decided I didn't want to let go. The thought that I always pushed to the back of my mind suddenly rose to the front, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him. I wanted his cheesy smile, and his backwards hat, and his bruised hands, and his perfect face, and everything else that was all packed into the hilarious, caring, incredible boy I knew.

        And then a few seconds later, he pulled back, ripping himself off of me and rubbing his lips raw with his sleeve.

        As it hit me what had just happened, I started to fill up with panic, the adrenaline running through my system wearing down and leaving me with nothing.

        "No," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he walked backwards, slowly stumbling away from me. "You can't do that."

        "Holy shit. I-I don't know what I just did. I'm so sorry. I-"

        He shook his head and grinded his teeth together. "You can't do that to me. That's not fair."

        I covered my tingling lips with the sleeve of my jumper and watched as he ran out of the the pool without saying another word.

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: )

(I'm shit at writing kissing scenes I actually haven't got a clue why so sorry but also not sorry because they kissed buuuuut sorry again because they fought. This is a mess)

~Teddy

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