Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Forty-One: What Friends Are For

The first call I made after landing in Portland was to Laurel. The second call was to Ralph at Rose City Cabs. I didn't even bother to try Harry.

The look on my mom's face when she answered the door to see me on the other side is something I don't think I'll ever forget. It felt strange to knock on the white painted door of my childhood home, because I hadn't done it since I was a kid and Pat and I used to play ding dong ditch to annoy my parents. But it also didn't feel right to barge my way through because I felt a bit like a stranger, like it was the first I'd been to this house.

She was yelling to Blair when she opened the door, her head turned in the opposite direction of me. She looked tired, but not nearly as tired as I felt. Her light brown hair was in a ponytail, she was wearing the cream colored shirt my dad has always liked and her feet were bare, with dirt stuck on top from working in her garden. When her eyes turned to me, I felt chills down my arms... and her familiar brown eyes made my heart feel like it was crumbling and getting pieced back together all at once.

I whispered, "Mom," holding onto my tears for a moment longer.

She whispered back, "Greta, sweetie," and then I fell to the ground.

I cried for at least a half hour on my front porch, my mom sitting on the ground with me and hugging me harder than she ever has before. Blair joined us at some point too but it was difficult to tell when. We were just one pile of cries and hugs and more crying... and it just felt good for my mom to hold me. I needed that.

Laurel showed up at my house the first possible second she could, driving from Eugene to Portland and barging through my front door, knowing I was here for the first time in months. She jumped onto me, and we fell to the ground... and again I was a sobbing mess on the floor, only now I was hugging onto my best friend.

Everybody knew the reason I was home wasn't because I felt my trip away had come to a satisfying close... they knew that something bad happened to drive me back. I didn't even have to mumble out a word for them to know this.

Yesterday consisted of sleeping, and that was pretty much it.

Before I made it home I had been awake for more than twenty-four hours, because even on the plane I couldn't shut my eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. Within those twenty-four hours I had gone through almost every emotion out there, the second half of it being much harder to deal with. There wasn't much surprise for my exhaustion and my family didn't have much of a problem with letting me sleep because just knowing I was there was enough.

When I woke up this morning the first thing I did was check my phone, hoping that Harry's name would be there with notifications of missed calls or at a least text... but there was nothing. Laurel stopped me before I tried calling him, waking up next to me just as I was about to press the button. She's right though, maybe I do just need to give it a little time.

She hasn't left my side since her run into my house, even when I slept most of the day.

It's easier with her here. I don't feel like I'm about to pack and leave to find Harry every other hour. My bed would feet empty because I had grown so used to Harry being on the other side, but Laurel took his place so I wouldn't have to think about it. It was like we had switched sides. Normally I'm the one who is picking up the pieces when Laurel finds herself down. Now, it is her turn to do that for me.

"Let's do something today, get out of the house," she pushes the blankets of my bed away from her, and I follow by raising my side up further and burying myself deeper. "I know you just got back but we can't sit around moping all day," she pauses for a moment to look at me, not meaning for the words to come out like they did. "I mean... if you want?"