Hello everyone!
I would like to apologize again for taking so long on updates. My plan for the year was to finish at least two of my stories in order to post on others or new ones, but I have no clue if that goal is still feasible for me with the way my mental health has been.
I won't talk too much about it, but I have been struggling recently. I am trying to take time for myself, but it's difficult when my whole family depends on me.
Anyways, I still really love writing, but it's hard to do or stay focused for long periods of time when I am constantly sleepy or just wanting to relax for a moment, so please, please bare with me!
I hope you all really love this chapter, and I hope it can make you all smile a little. It explains a bit about Liam's scars, and I hope it makes sense.
Love you all, and I am always here to talk. ❤❤
Enjoy!
Chapter 46:
Climbing out of bed to go to school felt like a giant task, and I knew it was something so minor to other people, but Ruth treated it like a huge accomplishment for me, telling me that she was proud of me as she dropped me off outside of the school building. I only nodded, refusing to acknowledge it as anything but a false start, knowing that I would fail in trying to hold my head up at school. That would be my failure of the day, and I knew it.
I tried to remind myself to be positive-- using positive affirmations-- but I wasn't accustomed to that. It wasn't my normal, and it was really hard to fall into. I didn't understand how people could be so positive all of the time. I saw it in Ruth every day at home, in Louis all the time at school, and it was all my therapists tried to remind me to be. I had to think positively, but my mind was like a minefield, and I was tiptoeing to try and avoid an explosion. I didn't know if it was even an attainable goal for someone with so many problems in their head like me because Niall seemed happy-go-lucky on the outside, but sitting through therapy with him taught me that he had his own personal storm on the inside. Positivity couldn't just fix that like magic, could it?
I walked into the school building and immediately lowered my head. Even if I thought to try and hold my head up, all of those plans flew out of the door the moment I stepped foot inside of the building. I could feel the stares that were always there, judging me and pushing me away. They pushed in from all sides, and my chest felt tight as I tried to walk down the hall without paying anybody any mind. It proved futile as I soon froze up, my legs not moving as I wanted them to, only drawing more unwanted attention to myself.
I was beginning to panic. I was familiar with the feeling now, and I knew the signs. Ezra talked to me about tips to refocus my mind or distract myself, but I couldn't think clearly to even try anything. I started counting in my head, but I was counting too fast. Everything was happening far too quickly. And right when I felt like I couldn't breathe, I heard a familiar voice.
"Hey, Liam," Niall greeted. He pulled me out of my own mind as I looked up to see him wearing a tiara on his head. I guess it was enough of a shocking distraction.
The tiara read "Irish Princess," and he paired it with an awful shirt that had actual sparkles all over it and "Kiss Me I'm Irish," written in sequins.
"What are you wearing?" It was a genuine question, but Niall laughed and shrugged.
"A distraction," He said, stopping in front of me. "You said you were supposed to try and hold your head up, so I figured I could help out." We began to walk through the halls, and most people's eyes tended to shift to Niall's ridiculous get-up. I understood what he was doing.
"You... you didn't have to do this. I still might not be able to lift up my head," I whispered, staring down at our feet as we walked on, hearing a few people laugh at Niall. How did he deal with that attention? It didn't seem to bother him all that much, but he was also involved in theatre with Louis.
"That's okay, too. Just wanted to show my support. We all did."
"What do you mean?" I wondered, and Niall pointed up as we neared my locker. I was in near shock as I saw Louis, Harry, and Jasmine standing beside my locker, waiting for me. I was even more shocked by the way they were all dressed.
Harry was wearing a feathered boa and a white top paired with an actual skirt that he looked quite comfortable in. Louis was wearing several scarves draped around his neck. There were so many thin scarves that I wondered if it was against the dress code. Then there was Jasmine, who was wearing a... jumper?
"It was my nan's first time knitting," Jasmine explained with a laugh. "It was supposed to be a jumper, but she made a couple mistakes." There were too many arm holes, where I assumed her nan guessed where they should have gone to be wearable and got it wrong.
"You look like an octopus," Niall laughed out, making Jasmine nudge him with her shoulder in response.
"Louis?" I wondered, pointing at all of the scarves.
"I went through a phase a few years back. Still have these in me closet."
I glanced at Harry, and he shrugged.
"Clothes are just clothes. I highly recommend a skirt at least once."
"Why are you all doing this?"
"We're supporting you, Liam," Jasmine smiled kindly. "We figured, if there were more eyes on us rather than you, it'd be easier for you to hold your head up."
"Or it'll just draw more eyes to me," I worried, looking back down at the floor. I could already feel the stares starting.
"It's okay," Louis reassured, reaching out and taking my hand in his. "One day at a time, yeah? You don't have to hold your head up today if you don't feel you can. But we're here for support either way."
I looked up at all of them, seeing nothing but support from each of them. I haven't had a group of friends in years, and none of my friends had even been real. It was all about how you looked and what being friends would give the other person. I never knew what true friends were like, but now it was looking me in the eyes. It's what I managed to find in Louis, Harry, Niall, and Jasmine. I was beyond thankful.
"I'll t-try," I decided. It was enough to make them all smile.
They waited for me as I placed all of my unnecessary items in my locker, and then they walked by my side through the halls. I stared at the ground as we went, squeezing my fists and told myself to just look up. Just once. Five seconds. I had to.
I was reminded of Ezra's words that I overheard as he spoke to my dad. I knew about it all and allowed him to explain the things he wanted to my dad in hopes of making it a little easier on him. Open communication didn't mean transparency on everything in my life and mind, but I did want him to know this if it made him feel he could help me get better.
Ezra told my father that it seemed, to him, that my self-image was incredibly distorted after the accident happened and the bullying began. His exact words were, "Liam seems to see his scars as much worse than they actually are, and I think it's attributed to the way others have spoken about them in his presence. I also think that the guilt that he pins on himself hinders him from seeing that the scars have all but completely faded at this point. We did an activity together where I asked him to describe himself, and he described his injuries from the accident with great dismay and near hatred at their presence. That's what we're working against here. I'm hoping that if we find ways to cope and come to terms with what happened, it'll open gateways to Liam's self-image becoming more confident."
I didn't fully understand it. I didn't see how I could be over-exaggerating my scars when they littered my face. They were all I saw as I looked in the mirror, and I doubted that anyone saw anything otherwise.
I thought about Zayn's words of encouragement and the way he always called me beautiful. I thought of those paintings he made of me, scars prominent on both of the paintings, though not overbearing or horrendous. They were thin white lines on my face, noticeable but not hideous as they were in the mirror. The poem he wrote me, claiming that he loved my scars and even had favorites, ran through my mind a few times.
Could Ezra's assumptions be right?
I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly before letting out a deep breath and slowly lifting my head up. I kept my eyes closed as I did so, not wanting to see the looks of disgust on other people's faces just yet. I had to prepare myself for that... though I was unsure of a way I could ever fully prepare for the way people would look at me as if I was a monster.
I let out the breath I was holding through my lips, and I slowly lowered my shoulders to try and calm myself down. Then... I opened my eyes.
The very first thing I saw as I opened my eyes was a poster on the wall ahead of us that read "No Bullying" in all capital letters. Underneath the words, there were bullet points divided into two sections. One column was what to do if a person was being bullied and the other listed the consequences of bullying all the way to expulsion and possible legal action. In the bottom right of the poster were the words "Stop Bullying NOW."
It was my dad's plan. He called it NOW, meaning "not only words." I remembered what he told me when he first mentioned the idea to me. He said that most of the time there were only talks about stopping bullying, but action was rarely taken. He wanted to create a plan that would be effective in the school. He wanted to create something that surpassed the simple use of words and put those words into action. I had forgotten that he introduced his plan to the school, but I had no idea if it was being put to use.
"Multiple kids have come forward about being bullied since your dad's plan was enacted," Jasmine said, probably noticing that my eyes were fixed on the poster ahead of us. "There've been many suspensions since you've been gone. Now, if someone is being bullied, teachers are told to believe the child first and figure out what happened. The school's cameras are actually being used now. And extreme cases of bullying could become legal matters." She turned to me. "You could tell them about Jaden if you wanted to. Something would actually come from it now besides detention that his dad could get him out of."
"Nothing's happened yet," I reasoned. He hadn't bothered me in a while, though it might have to do with the fact that he hasn't seen me around.
"Okay, but we're here for you, Liam. And I will gladly punch Jaden in the face again if need be."
Niall burst out laughing, making me jump and quickly scan my eyes around the halls. Multiple people were staring, but they were staring at Niall, turning away after a quick glance at what he was laughing at before turning back with confused looks at his attire. Then, their eyes drifted. From Niall to Jasmine, floating over me, to Louis and then Harry. There were looks of utter bewilderment before they either chuckled or pointed it out to their friends before moving on.
I was frozen in my spot, impressed and surprised by Niall's plan actually being successful. Whenever people glanced our way, none of their eyes lingered on me. Most eyes seemed to catch and linger on Harry in his skirt, but he didn't seem to mind as he just smiled and waved as he usually did. His confidence was astounding.
We continued walking through the halls, and everyone walked with me to my first class. As soon as I was outside of the door, I realized that I had held my head up the entire time. I was so used to staring at the tiles on the floor of the school that it was a shock to actually see the door to the classroom wide open like an invitation.
I turned to the group of friends I managed to find, and I thanked them in a low voice before turning and walking into the classroom, seeing smiles on their faces before I lowered my own and left them at the door.
Maybe... maybe it was possible. Just a few minutes at a time.
___________________________________________________
"Liam, do you think you could hang out here for a second while I have a run to the toilet?" Zayn wondered, poking his head into the back room where I was barely finishing up cleaning the ovens after a long day. "I won't be long."
The school day had been rather successful in terms of holding my head up. After every class, my friends would be somewhere nearby, waiting to walk with me to the next one. They were stared at the whole day without feeling any less than they were, and I wanted to learn from that, but I didn't know how. How did you ignore other people's gazes and opinions so easily?
It was all I could think about as I worked, accidentally burning a few pieces of bread and begging for forgiveness. Laurence assured me that it happened far more often when he let Zayn bake for the first few times. Now, it was almost closing time. Laurence left early to make it to the post, and Zayn was cleaning the front while I cleaned up the kitchen.
"Yeah," I agreed, knowing that nobody ever came in the last five minutes of the day. Our bread was all sold by then or growing stale from the day, and I wouldn't be making another batch. It was Laurence's rule, and everyone knew it.
"Thanks," He smiled as I walked out from the kitchen and stood behind the front counter. "You don't have to clean anything, I'll get it. Thank you." He left a peck on my cheek that made that familiar coat of red creep to the surface, and then he was taking off toward the toilet.
I watched as he went, feeling something stir within my chest.
Zayn knew I had strong feelings for him, and I knew that those feelings were reciprocated, but I wouldn't call it love. I would call it falling. I was falling in love with Zayn, rather quickly. He knew that, thanks to my abrupt confession, but I didn't know if he truly understood how fast I was falling for him. He seemed perfect to me, but that wasn't why I began to fall. Zayn was the first person to look at me, really look at me, and tell me that my scars aren't hideous. He saw past it all, but he also saw it and cherished the scars as well. He was beautiful inside and out.
I was pulled out of my thoughts as I heard the small bell signal that the front door was opening. A rush of panic swept through me, and I glanced at the clock to see that there were only two minutes until close. Zayn was at the toilet, so I would have to deal with this customer.
"H-hello. How may I h-help you?" I wondered, keeping my head down and hearing nothing but my heart pounding away in my ears.
"Ah, um, Liam... right?"
I tensed at the voice, peeking up slowly to see brown hair and kind-looking eyes that were a similar, warm brown. Zayn's ex.
"Yes," I breathed out, my hands already beginning to tremble as I hoped and prayed for Zayn to return to the counter. "Z-Zayn's not here," I lied.
"Actually, I'm here to talk to you."
My whole body went rigid, and I squeezed my eyes shut, ready for the confrontation; his fist potentially reaching out to connect with my face. However, it never came.
"Are you alright?" He wondered, and I shook my head as my breaths began to come out faster. "Hey, woah! It's alright," He tried to reassure me. "I'm not trying to fight with you or anything, I just wanted to say thank you."
I held my breath, in shock, and my head lifted up to look at him. Our eyes met, and he gave an easy, lop-sided smile. It was kind of cute. I understood why Zayn could have fallen for him.
"What for?"
He let out a breath, sighing as he leaned against a table.
"I imagine Zayn told you about me since you two are together," He said, another blush rushing to my cheeks. "You are adorable, so it makes sense." My whole face felt hot to the touch as I looked down again to hide the scars. "Anyway, I just wanted to say that we talked. He let me know that I was a right arse, and I got it. I finally understood it, and I apologized to him."
Zayn told me as much, but he also mentioned something about his ex begging to get back with him.
"I came here to win him back," He actually confessed, catching me by surprise yet again. "I made a mistake. I cheated on him, and I don't really understand why I did it, but I guess that means I'm not as in love with him as I thought I was. It's just... Zayn's a great guy. It's hard not to love him, you know?"
I nodded my head briefly.
"Anyways, I think I owe you an apology as well for that and for the last time I came here. If I would have known you were together already, I would have never made a move. I would have just apologized and disappeared. I'm sorry. You're a much better person than I am, and it's easy to see how much you mean to Zayn. So, I won't interfere."
I remained silent. How was I supposed to respond? Was there a right or wrong way to respond?
"I don't think I've ever seen him so happy while talking about another person. The way he talked about you... there was something in his eyes that I couldn't understand. But he probably really loves you, you know? So... I guess what I really want to say is... please don't hurt him. Don't make the same mistake that I did."
Something within me gave me some sort of courage to look up at him and meet his eyes, unflinching. It was something strong within my chest as I all but glared at the guy.
"I wouldn't do that. He means everything to me," I admitted.
Slowly, a smile grew back on the guy's face, and he nodded in satisfaction.
"That's what I'd hoped you'd say," He let out a small laugh, but then we were both jumping in surprise as Zayn's voice invaded the area.
"Hey, get the fuck away from him!" Zayn shouted as he walked back over to the counter. He stood beside me, moving me behind him a bit as he glared daggers at his ex. "If you said anything to him, I won't hesitate to fucking punch you in the-"
"He didn't, Zayn," I said, grabbing onto his arm and feeling my eyes widen slightly as I felt the way his whole arm was tremoring, holding back his anger. He gradually settled under my touch, looking at me and frowning.
"You don't have to lie for him, Li. If he said anything to you-"
"He didn't," I reassured, meeting his eyes and asking him to trust me. "He apologized."
Zayn looked back at his ex in surprise.
"I was just leaving. Going back home. But I just wanted to say sorry to Liam. For trying to get you back and for the whole incident I caused last time I came here." His eyes met mine. "I'm truly sorry."
"It's fine," I faintly stated, holding onto Zayn's arm.
"I'll be on my way now." He turned with a small wave, walking toward the exit. As soon as he reached the door, he stopped and turned back. "I'm glad you two found each other. I really am." He smiled widely. "He's lovely, Zayn."
With that, he took his leave. We both stood in silence, both just as confused by what just happened. I was sure that Zayn still had a grudge against his ex, and he probably only saw him as someone who could do no good, and I never expected an apology. We were both surprised.
"Are you sure he didn't say shit?" Zayn asked, still testy about his ex.
"No, he didn't. He really just explained things and apologized." I looked down at where Zayn intertwined our fingers. His hand was slightly larger than my own, and it was warm like the fresh-baked bread. Meeting his eyes again, I allowed myself to smile and ignore the scars for a brief moment. "I really like you, Zayn."
"I really, really like you, Liam," he grinned as his hand moved to cup my cheek. "And I would really, really love to tell people that you're my boyfriend. Properly."
"I... I-" I stuttered out.
"No rush," He promised. "It's only when you want to. I'll wait. I can do that."
He meant it. Even with the small hint of sadness and disappointment in his tone, I knew he meant it. Whatever I needed and however long I needed, he would wait.
"I..." I bit down on my lip, trying to forget the bundling ball of anxiety and doubt in my mind. Not about Zayn. Never about Zayn, but about myself. "I would like that." I decided.
Despite my self-image issues, I was sure of one thing. Despite all of my uncertainty and hesitation, I was sure of one thing. Despite all of the negatives that I was so sure would remain in my life, I was sure of one thing.
Zayn made me feel happy and lovely and confident in the moments he was with me. Zayn was the only person I even thought about in a romantic way. Zayn made me feel as strong as he thought I was when we were together. I was sure about Zayn. I wanted him, not just needed him.
"Are you sure?" Zayn wondered, smiling widely but still allowing me a way out if I needed more time.
"Yeah," I promised, kissing his lips once. "I'm sure."