A Daydream Away

A Daydream Away...[Part 8]

"Ace, please, just hear me out," Ethan begged.

"There's nothing to hear! I don't want to talk to you. Just go away," I said, gathering my books and standing. I faced him. "You haven't missed my birthday in 15 years suddenly this year, since you've gotten yourself a girlfriend, you forgot my 21st," I said.

"It wasn't because of her..." Ethan said.

"Whatever it was! You've never forgotten before and you did this year! Ethan, I'm not so much as angry with you for forgetting as I am with the way you've been acting. I haven't had a proper conversation with you in two months," I told him.

"I've been busy..." he tried to say meekly. I shook my head.

"You've been busy? So busy that you forgot your best friend's birthday? So busy that you can't take two seconds to write a text message asking how I'm doing?" I asked. He looked down at his feet.

"It's this medical school thing. I've been applying for schools and studying for the MCAT," he explained.

"It's always the medical school thing with you. Maybe whatever's happening between us is for the better. If you're alread disappearing from my life in undergrad, then I probably won't ever hear from you when you're in medical school," I said.

"I'm sorry, Ace," he apologized in a small voice.

"Don't call me that. Only best friend calls me that and seeing as you aren't anymore-" I started, but he came up to me so quickly that I stopped. His eyes flashed in anger.

"Don't say that," he said in a dangerously low voice. His face was centimeters from mine. I took a step back.

"Don't give me reason to, then," I said. Sadness fell over his face and I turned around and walked away, feeling my heart drop faster with every step I took.

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I got home late that night. I had a debate for my Speech and Debate class and it ran over time. I was all argued out when I got home. I took the stairs two at a time to get to my apartment. I stopped when I got to my door.

Ethan was sitting on the ground, his head in his hands.

Without looking at him, I jabbed the key into the door. Ethan stood up.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked. I didn't respond. The key was stuck. I cursed at the old lock under my breath. He pushed me aside lightly and jiggled the key a little, successfully and easily unlocking the door. I took the key from him and marched inside. He followed me in, but I ignored him. "Ace--?" he prodded. I went into my room, dropping my bag on the ground. I rummaged through my drawers for a pair of sweats and took them out. He came into my room. I avoided his gaze and stepped around him to go to the bathroom to change.

When I came back out, he was sitting on the floor beside my bed. His face looked older, more weary. He looked like he hadn't eaten in a few days. I hadn't noticed how weak he looked before. I felt concern flood my mind and then I pushed it away. No, I was mad at him.

He glanced up at me and I realized that I was staring at him. I blinked and looked away. When I walked by, he grabbed my hand. I stopped and he pulled me down next to him. I looked at his face and was caught off-guard when I saw that he was crying. Suddenly, all my anger at him vanished. I placed my hands on his face, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Ethan, what's wrong?" I asked, my own eyes welling up.

"My mom-" he began, his voice choking.

"What happened?" I asked.

"She overdosed," he finished, forcing his voice to remain strong.

"Is she--?" I asked, not able to finish the question. I knew from his expression that it was true. He nodded and I pulled him into a tight hug. He cried into my shoulder and I held him, trying to keep my own emotions stable.

Ethan's mother had a problem with depression. It happened when his dad went off to fight in the war and was killed. She couldn't bear it and began channeling her emotions by drinking. After a lot of convincing from Ethan, me, and my dad, she went to see a psychiatrist. The doctor prescriped an anti-depression medicine for her and saw her regularly. At first she seemed to be getting better. But there were times when she completely lost it. Even though he had moved out, Ethan had always been worried about her. He loved his mother, despite her condition; she was the only parent he had left. And now she was gone.

Ethan rested his head on my lap. I stroked his cheek gently and ran my hand through his hair. He had stopped crying now. He was just silent. I didn't want to push him with questions, so I waited.

"I knew it was your birthday and I knew about the party. I didn't forget," he said finally after a very prolonged silence.

"Then why did you act like it?" I asked.

"Because, I knew if you'd see me, you'd know something was wrong. The past few days have been hell for me. But I couldn't tell you the news right before your birthday. It was your 21st. You deserved to be happy," he explained.

"When did it happen?" I asked.

"She overdosed on Thursday near midnight. I took her to the ER, but they said there was nothing else they could do. She died Friday before the sun rose," he replied. 

"And before that?" I questioned.

"Before that, her psychiatrist called me and told me to live with her for a bit because her emotional state was going down fast. She said that everything they had worked on seemed lost all of a sudden. I've been living at my mother's house for the past few weeks. Melissa and I were never dating. It was just that day at the carnival. I made up the relationship so I could use it as an excuse if you ever asked where I was," he explained. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked him. "Before my birthday? All those weeks that you were dealing with this on your own. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were so happy with Austin. I didn't want to ruin it for you. Why should I dump my problems onto you? What kind of best friend would ruin that happiness?" he responded.

"Ethan, that's why I'm here. I'm here to help you. I've always helped you when it came to your mom. It was me who told my dad to talk her into seeing a doctor. I could have been there for you. You didn't have to go through all of this alone," I told him. He closed his eyes and a stray tear escaped his eye. I wiped it away with my thumb. He sat up and faced me. "When was the funeral?" I asked.

"Yesterday afternoon," he answered. I furrowed my brows. So while I was getting ready for my birthday dinner with Austin, Ethan was at his mother's funeral. I pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek.

"Promise me you'll never hide anything from me again; you'll tell me everything no matter what," I said. He kissed my shoulder.

"I promise," he whispered. I pulled away and looked at him. I took his hand.

"Come on. I'll make us some tea," I said, standing.

I made him tea and we drank it in silence. After that, he told me he had a headache. He rested his head on my lap again and fell asleep as I stroked his hair. The night grew darker and quieter. The light from the lampost outside cast a little sliver of light onto Ethan's now-calm face. I lifted his head gently and placed a pillow underneath it. I pulled the big afghan over him and leaned over and kissed his cheek, smiling sadly. Then I went to my own room to go to bed. As I fell asleep, I thought of how simple our lives used to be when we were kids. Life had been so easy. We didn't know about how harsh the world was, so there weren't any complications. But it seemed now that we were older, that's all there was. Ignorance was bliss. Knowing hurt too much.

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A/N: Sorry it's short. It was a good place to leave off for this chapter. A longer chapter 9 will be up soon.

Yay! Best friends again!

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XOXO