Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 27.

"Yeah, no shit.." Charlie mutters back. "You've been moody for like a week now, then. And I talked to Harry. He said he doesn't know what's up with you guys anymore."

My heart feels squeezed. Eyes blink rapidly as I furrow my eyebrows, whispering, "He said that?.."

"Yeah. He looked like he hasn't slept in days, so I'm sure he's a wreck. But I'm so lost. What the fuck is going on--"

"Charlie, just shut up for a sec!" I shout without meaning to. Maybe the words were true, but the choice of volume was purely impulsive. My mind is still rendering the fact that Harry had said that. I shut my eyes in regret and let my fingers brush against my mouth.

He's silent for a couple of seconds. But he retaliates. He always does. "Tara, I'm just trying to fucking help you. I'm your best friend. But you're acting fucking...weird and it just happened to concern me," he explains as smooth and calmly as he can, with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm fine," I remark firmly, taking my hand from my mouth and grasping my denim cladded thigh, squeezing my knee to try and calm my nerves. I shouldn't be alone. "I'm going to go see him.."

"Yeah...okay. But what happened? Why aren't you guys talking?"

"He's getting tired of me. The way I'm acting.." I partly confess, shutting my eyes at my own words. Sounds so pathetic and like I've been shredded of all my valuable assets.

"Why are you acting like that, though?"

I sigh heavily. "Because...I'm just moody. That's it. I've been acting like an ass lately. Just...stop asking me so many questions," I plead dryly.

He pauses, knowing I'm not saying everything. "Okay..well I'll call later. Like in a few hours. I'm having dinner with Martha's family. Just give me a call or send a text.."

"Okay."

Charlie hangs up and I toss my phone next to me on my bare mattress, sheets pulled off and by the edge now. I rub my fingers into my aching eyes, feeling on edge with the silence. I don't know why I keep finding myself alone in this apartment when I know something is wrong. The last thing anyone would want is to be alone in my position.

I grab my phone again and exit my bedroom. Within fifteen minutes I'm at Harry's, rushing up the stairs to his loft. I know I probably look like a mess. Puffy, tired eyes. Tortured, deep dark under eye circles. My hair tied up and yet sticking in all different directions. But I don't care how he sees me at this point.

Holding onto my jacket and hugging myself for warmth, I wait for the door to open. When it does, it's not Harry.

Deborah's bright eyes find mine instantly. Her blonde hair swept from her face into a pony tail, glasses at the bridge of her small nose. She sends me a stomach-churning, sweetened smile. I take note she's wearing jeans, knee-length boots and a thick white wool sweater. Her voice is low and unfazed when she says, "It must really suck waking up to you."

Without a single fuck, I shove her back so hard she nearly loses balance; my hand pressed against her shoulder and I put most of my weight into that shove. She gasps at the moment, and then contorts into fury. I walk right past her into the loft to see nobody. If Harry was here, the lights would not be on.

I turn around to see Deborah standing there, her perfectly plucked eyebrows lowered into a deep drown, annoyance the lubricant in her nearly twitching eyeballs from all the fury she mustered from that single shove.

"What. Are you. Doing here."

My voice is unsteady and harsh. I know that the lack of patience I have for her right now is intensely dangerous. Because I will not hesitate to become violent. My eyes narrow and I cross my arms over my chest, gazing her up and down until my eyes find her right hand. She clutches a pill bottle tightly.