FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

37 ║ The Unexpected

"I tried." she said, silently.

He frowned. He couldn't ask anything because he had lost his voice somewhere. Her long hair was now gone, although he knew how bad she loved it. She used to take care of her hair for hours, just because she enjoyed it. She used to enjoy running her fingers through it, enjoyed braiding it, straightening it, curling it. She used to love to spend huge amount of money in product to try and make it more shiny, even though none worked. When Tamara looked up to him, some strand of her brown curls falling over her face, he was not sure he wanted to hear whatever she was about to tell him. Her eyes were too glassy, too red.

"I tried to be him." she suddenly said. "Your new man. I tried to be him."

He wondered if it was a joke. Was it a joke, a prank pulled up by her and her friends to humiliate him in a public space? Was it a wig she was wearing, hiding her real long hair. Was she trying to hurt him, to trap him? Louis couldn't breath, nor talk and he was simply waiting for her to talk, to add something.

"When she told me you broke up with me because you were gay, I was mad." she added, looking away. "When she told me you fell for this curly haired boy, I was just... sad. I wanted to be him. I wanted you back, I couldn't tell you because I didn't want to look desperate. But, when I understood you couldn't love me anymore because... because you liked boys, I turned crazy." she paused, tears filling her eyes.

Louis thought he was about to pass out. His heart was beating so hard, so fast he could feel it vibrate in each bone of his body. Droplets of sweat was rolling onto his cold skin. He gulped, frozen. It could not be real. All of this, all around him, Tamara, the café, the people and her words hurting his eardrums. It could not be real. It was not possible. He couldn't even try to understand and comprehend any of her words, they were just falling into his brain and burning his scalp. He could have just rip his hair off if he didn't remind himself he was in a public place. She took a quick glance at him before staring at her cup.

"It started simply, I looked for his social media, I searched for hours. Days. I only had his name. When I found his Facebook page, it just exploded in my face. I stared at his pictures for ages. I looked nothing like him, or maybe I did, that's what I tried to convince myself. I spent so much time comparing my face to his. Every single detail, I could probably draw him out of memory now. I wore your clothes, hoping you didn't lend him yours. When I fell asleep in your sweatshirt I hoped you weren't falling asleep in his. At first, I only wanted to try and dress like him. I bought lot of shirts and tried them. I wanted to be him. I thought that maybe, if I looked more like him, more like a man, you'd take me back and forget him. But I was getting out of hand. I stalked him and almost harassed your sister for a month, so she could tell me things I didn't know about him yet. Some weeks ago, I did this." she said, tears rolling down her cheeks, pulling on a piece of her hair. "I tried to cut it just like his, as you can see, it failed badly. It looks terrible, I know..."

She stayed silent. Or maybe she was talking, all he knew was that he could not hear anything anymore. His heart was beating too fast in his chest and echoed in his ears. It was almost painful. He felt lost, he could not understand anything. What was happening? What was she truly trying to say? That she wanted him back? Or that she hated him for liking a boy? He didn't know if he could ever get that confused. None of what she was trying to tell him really made sense to him. He was frowning deeply and when he looked back at her, she was looking at him with glassy eyes. She looked so sad, seemed almost broken.

"I am sorry I did that to you..." she started, her voice heavy.
"Did what?"

She pointed at him.

"All of that. You look pale and I can almost see your bones through your skin."

He frowned, even more confused. What was all of this supposed to be about? Had she planned on coming here and rambling about whatever she had in mind, no matter how confusing it would sound to Louis? It was painful. He didn't know if he was supposed to say anything. He was trying his hardest to think of something. Thousand of words were crossing his mind, but none was making sense.