Recovery / / h.s

Chapter Eight.

In the days that followed, my rage toward Lily had simmered down to nothing. However, she hadn't spoken one word to me since I went off on her. Work without talking to Lily was boring. Since we were usually the only two at the station during the day, there was only silence. Creepy, angry silence. I couldn't really complain, I hadn't made any effort to talk to her either.

"It's a two person job. If you were to do it alone it would take hours," White said. He wanted me to put letters into envelopes and stamp them. There was a stack of at least 400 letters and even more envelopes. "I'm sure Lily won't mind helping you." He flashed her a smile and she flashed a fake one back.

I stuffed each letter into an envelop after I folded it and she placed a stamp in the corner and wrote the return address, all in silence. After a half hour, it was driving me insane.

"The silent treatment, huh?" I asked. She didn't respond. "Don't be such a baby, Harry." I made my voice high pitched in an attempt to mimic her. She put down her pen and crossed her arms over chest.

"Don't think that means I'm your fucking friend," she said in a deepened voice. Her attempt at mimicking me, I assumed.

"You have to be friends with someone in order to have a conversation with them?" I asked her.

"Your mood swings are driving me insane, Harry." She wrote out the address at the top of the envelope and I realized just how hard she was pressing down on the paper.

"Guess I'm just being bipolar again," I joked. She smacked the pen down on the desk and glared at me.

"Bipolar Disorder is not something to joke about," she snapped, her voice edgy and full of rage. "If you're going to be inconsiderate, then don't even bother talking to me right now."

"Alright, I'm sorry," I couldn't understand why she was getting so worked up over a simple little joke. I wasn't inconsiderate, I was trying to be funny. She nodded and went back to sticking a stamp to the envelope she had been working on before she snapped.

"Who is that?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Who is who?" I wondered as I stuffed yet another paper into an envelope.

"On your shirt. Who is All Time Low?" She asked.

"They're a band. A great band, actually."

"Never heard of them," she informed me.

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "They're great. I've seen them live a bunch of times. You have to listen to them!"

"Maybe I'll check them out," she said. People promised to look up music all the time and never went through with it. It was nearly vital that she check them out though, no matter how much persuading it might take.

"I could play you a song now if you want." It wouldn't be that difficult, considering I owned every single fucking album they had ever produced.

She agreed and I played one of my favorites, Remembering Sunday. I hummed along as we worked, occasionally looking over to see her reactions to the song.

"It's good, right?" I asked her as the last note was being sung. She didn't look affected by the flawlessness of the lyrics.

"I'll check them out later," was all she said. I took that as her hating it, which was something I couldn't seem to comprehend.

-----

The next morning, I arrived at the police station first. It was odd being the only person there. The silence nearly killed me as I fulfilled my morning duties.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Lily apologized as she placed everything on her desk. Even though she had gotten here twenty minutes than usual, she wasn't late. None of the officers were here yet and it wasn't even seven.

I didn't care about her being late, though. The only thing I cared about was the music. "What did you think about them?"

"About who? All Time Low?" She wondered and I nodded. "Well, their songs definitely live up to their bands name. They were all sort of depressing."

"Which ones did you listen to?" I asked. Some were better than others and she needed to listen to the right ones to get the full affect.

"I just looked up All Time Low and clicked on the first couple that showed up."

"You didn't like any of them?" I knew she had to at least like one of them, there was no way you couldn't love them.

"There was one song. It was called Jasey Rae, I think. It was pretty good." I smiled as she named off another of my personal favorites. "It's not really my type of music, so I don't know how I feel about it."

"What do you listen to?" I asked as I followed her to the coffee machine.

"Whatever is on the radio," she answered. That music sucked, I couldn't believe anyone could enjoy that.

"After work, I'm going to show you what real music is," I promised her.