Strangers

Chapter 36: Countdown For What?

"So how much of last night do you remember, oh wise one?" Alice sat up in bed, reaching out her arms above her head as her mouth stretched into a wide yawn.

"Everything. I always remember everything. In my 23 years of existence, Alcohol has yet to plague me to the point where I remember nothing."

"Okay, no one who was as drunk as you last night should be using words like plagaue or existence." Her mouth strangles her words as she yawns again, collapsing back onto the bed.

"I don't really feel hung over."  I shrug, turning away from the bed to talk to her properly.

"Lucky you." She groans, covering her face with a pillow. "Have you spoken to Harry?"

"No! Someone wouldn't let me reply last night, so I had some annoyed texts waiting for me this morning and I'm just going to wait till it's an acceptable time to call him." I say, thinking back to the messages I'd read half an hour ago. The texts that had forced both anger and dread into my stomach.

Harry: Hellloooo?
Harry: Well I'm glad you're having fun without me Miss 'I'm never going to parties again because they end in fights every time'.

Harry: Maybe it's only parties I'm at, right?

Harry:so....

Harry: You know i'm like constantly busy but i always reply to you and if i dont you get shitty so this fucking double standard is bogus

Harry: Looook I just miss you is all, please reply

Harry: I guess I'll call you tomorrow your time or something because you can't make any effort to talk to me now...just like a text every once and a while so i know you're okay and not off making out with someone would be nice.

Harry: Alright, it's officially too late for me to be awake and we have a show tomorrow so im gonna go to sleep, i guess i'll talk to you tomorrow?

Yep, the boy knew how to get to me. The texts have been floating around inside my mind since I woke up, and I know I have to call him but at the same time it's just so infruriating that he can act all pissy when I don't reply one night when he knows I'm at a party. His arguments are so invalid, too. He's always at some fancy event and I never get replied to for hours and I don't say anything, I don't understand where he's getting this idea that I'm always annoyed at him for not replying from. If it's a valid reason than why would I give a fuck? Ugh.

"It's like 9pm in Japan now, how is that not an appropriate time to call?" Alice breaks my inner monologue. 

"Well I thought they had a show tonight? I think Japan is the worst time zone difference, like 9 hours ahead is just confusing as fuck. We're at completely different parts of our day." I whine.

"Oh true, they probably would be on stage. Maybe he'll call you when he gets off stage?"

"Yeah I'm thinking he will," I shrug, he bloody better. If he doesn't call me, I'll call him. I don't know who's mad at who anymore.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Alice gestures to the desk I've been busy working at since I woke up.

I hold up the piece of paper I've just finished working on, an A3 size peice of white cardboard that I've ruled 42 squares onto, each one has a number written inside, starting at 42 and consequtively working down to 1.

"What is that?" She yawns again, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head.

"This, my dear sweet child, is quite clearly a countdown." I tell her, mock-condescendingly. I sticky-tape it to the door of my cupboard.

"A countdown for what?"

"Till Harry gets back. I just have to make sure nothing goes wrong in the next 42 days, and everything will be fine. Well, 41 days now." I cross off the first square with permanent marker.