Better Days

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Monday was the first day back at class, and two awful days after the unfortunate event I wittnessed in the driver's seat of my car.

I had spent the rest of Saturday sleeping. When I finally woke up later that night, around 11:30, I was surprised to hear voices in the living room. I was creeping out to the kitchen to heat up pizza, because I was seriously freaking hungry, and I had an odd super craving for the stuff. I slipped into the hall, my back pressed to the wall as I peaked around the corner of the wall. There were Abby and Charlie, whispering. About me. And Liam.

"Do you think it was Liam?" Charlie murmured.

"I don't know. Sometimes she just likes to be alone, but she usually plays music when that happens. I think it might have been him..." Abby replied.

I rolled my eyes. Why couldn't they just leave well-enough alone?

"I'm torn between wanting to know what happened with him to just wanting to pummel the guy," he said, wrinkling his nose.

That was my Charlie. He was literally the kindest person ever. He didn't have to care. He didn't have to even tolerate me. But he did. It was nice to know I had such fabolous friends.

"That's probably not the best idea, dear," Abby giggled.

"True. I was thinking maybe I could have her hang out with one of my fellow YouTuber friends. Then they'd have something in common to talk about, and maybe she'd pick up a little bit. Maybe not Alex...He's not terribly sympathetic. I'd say Carrie, but that may be too much sympathy for her. Maybe Pj..." I heard Charlie muse.

Pj?! Like Kickthepj?! But. He was like, my YouTube model...

"I don't know who Pj is, but it might be worth a shot..."

"So what else do we do?"

"I think we should wait and see. I think she'll rebound. I mean. How can she not? She's Avery. She always does," Abby decided, getting up and stretching. They walked to her bedroom as I snuck into the kitchen.

Oh, if only they knew. I wasn't always invincible, just when the world had to see me.

On Sunday I started the day with toast and tea, moving on with comics. Then, after writing a script for a new video, I threw everything to the wind. I put popcorn in the microwave and fished out the television remote. Abby and Charlie had slipped away to Charlie's flat earlier, when I was still a morning zombie, so I had no one to hide from. Very excited, I pushed in my DVD set of Jane By Design. Yes. I mean the ABC Family show. The one about the highschool girl who takes a job in fashion and has to hide her double life. It's my closet obsession. No one knows, but it's one of my favorite television shows ever.

I watched the entire season, enjoying every minute. I grinned like a fool, yelled at the television when something went wrong, and stuffed my face with food. For those few hours, I was able to forget Liam and his mystery woman. And it was great.

But on Monday, I pulled myself together. When my phone rang my alarm, I dragged myself out my warm bed and showered quickly. I pulled on my favorite sweater (with elbow pads), a pair of jeans, those maroon sneakers I had worn the day I met Liam, my coat, and a beanie. I grabbed my messenger bag and bolted off to school, and, to be honest, I was happy. Excited, even. I was going to be back in my normal life, doing what I loved. Sure, that thing was hard, but it kept my brain working, and it was fascinating. I do love science.

The day went unusually and unexpectedly well. I made small talk with university friends and acquaintances. My classes went well, and I was happy to be able to talk science with people again, as it was the sort of conversation topic Abby wasn't always keen on. My lab partner and I took this oppertunity to discuss new discoveries and make some stupid science jokes. It was great.

However, I was not prepared in any way to come back to the flat in the afternoon to a person. And not just any person.

You see, after my drive home singing along with various crappy music artists, I unlocked the flat door, belting out One Direction-the worst offender. I kicked off my high tops and chucked my coat on the chair, not bothering to hang it up. I switched to singing Andy Grammer as I waltzed into the kitchen, pouring (and spilling) myself a coup of juice.

"Oooh oooh oooh oooooooh! I begin to see I'm right where I belong and there's nowhere else where I'd rather beeeeee!!!" I sang as I pulled out a box of mac and cheese. "A belly dancer passes the tip jar around, the men are confused-slightly aroused...Muslims, Christians, preachin', wishin' I would shut up so the people would listen!" I continued, skipping a bit of the song. After jamming the pot on the stove and pouring water in it, I finally opened Spotify on my laptop, playing the song I was singing. Of course, this was accompanied by dancing. This was followed by the brilliant Alex Goot {Google him} cover of Trouble by Taylor Swift. "I KNEW YOU TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN! SO SHAME ON ME NOOOW!"

"Wow. When Charlie was telling me about you he made it sound like you were really depressed-"

I flew around, slipping on the tile in my socks and landing on my butt with a thump.

"HOLY SHIT DUDE! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! GET OUT." I screamed from the ground, waving about my fork. Subconsciously, I knew this man was Pj. As in KickthePj from YouTube. But that didn't mean he was allowed to waltz into my flat unannounced.

"Oh. Yeah. My name is Pj and I am making a rare appearance into the real world as a favor to my friend Charlie McDonnell," he said slowly.

"I already knew that!" I sighed, jumping up and throwing the fork in the sink. It landed with a satisfying clink.

"So then why did you freak out and threaten me with a fork?'

"Because. Because I did. Okay? Great."

"Mhhhmm," Pj murmured, staring at  me. I'm sure I seemed a wee bit odd. I had come in singing pop songs, only to freak out, fall on the ground, point a fork at him, and then tell him I already knew who he was. "You really are something."

"You're one to talk," I snorted, pouring the macaroni into the boiling water. "I've seen your videos. They're brilliant. And strange," I continued.

"Well. Let's move on, shall we? I'm supposed to be here to cheer you up because you're sad, but you're not sad, are you?" he asked, looking over my shoulder into the pot.

"Not really. I'm getting over it," I said curtly, fiddling around on my laptop.

"Really? Would you like to explain why you were sad?" he asked, moving to stare at my laptop.

"No." I spat. Then I realized it would probably be beneficial for me to do so. Get it off my chest and all. "Maybe." He could help. Maybe he even would know why Liam did it... "Yes..." I sighed quietly, mixing up the cheese into the macaroni, pouring it into a bowl, and bringing it to the island. Pj sat next to me, watching me eat. "You're starting to creep me out a bit," I mumbled through a mouthful of macaroni.

"Eh. Too bad. Not gonna stop until you tell the story."

"You make me abadon my mac and cheese and you die," I replied, raising my eyebrows.

"The sass. Cheeze.'

"Hey. I'm gonna be sick 'cause of this. Damn lactose intolerance. I might as well enjoy it now," I finished, putting the bowl in the sink. "Anyway. I caught him kissing another girl," I said bluntly, sliding my phone across the island to him.

"Ohhhh..." Pj said, looking at the picture, eyes wide.

"Yup. But I can get over it. I already am. I was dumb to think he'd be different," I said, taking the phone back.

"Maybe not....Maybe we can figure this out..." he mumbled, looking me right in the eye.

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