Growing up (Get Scared- continued)

Where's Nick?

Lloyd's pov

It's been a week since I've seen Nicholas. Last time i saw him was at his door for two minutes before he closed it. Everytime I try to check up on him, either no one answers or his mom tells me he's either not there or not feeling well. Johnny says he hasn't seen him since that day either. 

I hope the guy is okay.

I go to Johnny's house and his mom opens the door. I have never seen this woman before. I've somehow never met either of Johnny's parents. She has light brown hair and has the face of someone who is kind.

"Is Johnny here?" I ask her. 

"Yes he is, i'll let him know you're here," she tells me, "what's your name, hun?"

"Lloyd."

"Well, come on in Lloyd," she says as she motions her hand to the inside of her home, "I'll go get Johnny for you."

I walk in to find Sheila sitting on the couch, still in her pj's and a head full of bed hair. She looks up at me and waves. "Yo!" she greets. 

"Hi."

After less than a minute, Johnny comes down the stairs dressed in black ripped jeans and a black Korn tank top and nods his head at me then tells me "Let's go!"

"It's Nick birthday today," I infrom Johnny, holding up a gift bag.

"Oh. Yeah. Have you heard from him yet?" Johnny asks, suddenly seeming worried about him. He quickly grabs things from the counter. We head out the door.

"No, i tried asking his mom last night after I left your house if he's okay and she just said he's with his dad," i answer.

"He seems to 'always be with his dad' all of a sudden," he rolls his eyes and puts air quotes around his words with one hand. His other hand is holding 3 packs of Ernie ball guitar strings, each of different gauges, and a bag picks with grip on them. I'm guessing that's what he's giving Nick.

I know Johnny cares about Nicholas, but he almost seems desperate to see him. Not in the way you want to see your crush, or at least I don't think. He's impatient all the and gets frustrated whenever we hear nothing from Nick.

"Did something happen between you and Nick?" I ask him, "you just seem really on edge about this."

"No. Well, yeah. I kinda fucked up because I was being ignorant, and now I feel like shit about it and I haven't been able to apologize to him. And it's making feel so fucking guilty!"

"What did you do?" 

"I made him eat. Like I shoved food in his face because I was terrified of him dying. But then Sheila told me that that was a terrible approach because people with anorexia can't just eat because you tell them to because it's a complex mental illness," he speaks fast, almost stumbling over his words, "but I'm pretty sure that after he ate, he went to purge it and I didn't stop him. I DIDN'T FUCKING STOP HIM, LLOYD!" He stops walking. I can't find words to say, so he keeps venting. "Fuck! Why am I so fucking stupid!"

"You're not stupid. I did similar shit to get him to eat. You had good intentions and I'm sure Nick knows that. He might've gotten a bit shaken, but he'll be okay."

The two of us keep walking and we start feeling the heat beat down of us. Wearing black was a poor choice we both made today. We walk down the drive way of Nick's house and ring the doorbell, hoping Nick will finally be home. Once again, his mother opens the door and gives us the same shit she's been giving us all week.

"Oh, well, tell him we say happy birthday," Johnny says, his voice soft and sad.

"He should be here by two if you want to stop by again," she says.

"We definitely will," i smile, finally getting good news about Nicholas.

Johnny's pov.

   Okay, so soon I can tell him I'm sorry. I can tell him I'm sorry for being ignorant  I can tell him I want to support him. I can tell him that Sheila is probably better with this than I am, so if he needs someone to understand, he can talk to her so he won't feel so alone. He just needs to actually come home today.

  Lloyd takes me back to his place since he knows how much I hate being at my own house. He sits on his bed and I sit on a chair. There's not much conversation between us, but it's not particularly tense or awkward. I just don't know what to do with my hands.

  My mind wanders to all sorts of places. For example:

  That one time, back at my old school when one of my friends waited for the teacher to leave the class to get coffee so he could he could stand up on my desk and pretend to be a stripper by sexually taking off his shoe and putting it on my lap. Everyone giggled and chuckled as they watched him. I put a dollar in his sock and clapped. When we heard the teacher get close to our classroom, he jumped off his desk and scurried back to his own desk. He left his shoe on my lap and had to wait for me to give it to him after class.

Or that one time I cleaned my room and found a dollar stuck to the floor. Like stuck stuck. I have no idea how it managed to become part of my floor, but it did. It's probably still there, waiting to be found by the new home owners.

I remember my older brother coming into my room every once in a while just to yell lyrics at me. Then I would yell back at him. Then from across the hall Sheila would yell at us to shut up.

"Whatcha thinking about over there?" Lloyd asks.

"Whatever the hell my mind wants me to think off," I laugh slightly.

I look at him and he's on his back staring at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world. 

"Do you ever think about how one day your life could just end and you'd never be able to do all the things you've always wanted to do?" he asks.

"If I'm being honest, sometimes I want my life to just end." The air becomes heavy. Maybe that was too much. Let me add more and make the situation even more tense, "I know there's a lot I want to do, but sometimes everything just feels so God awful that I start to wonder if it's even worth it."

He sits up and looks at me. "Would you ever take your own life?"

Why am I still talking? "Well, I tried to..." I pause then look down at my wrist. The faint stitches from two years ago that I use to draw over or use hide with sleeves. "Didn't work. I got caught in the act." That wasn't the first or last attempt. 

"I'm glad you did," he says, "got caught, I mean."

"I guess I am too. Even if on some days I wish it had worked."

"Stay strong, bud."

"You as well."

Loyd's pov.

Johnny and Nick are pretty similar, but unfortunately in one of the worst ways. 

Damn, I feel kinda bad, they've had it rough and I'm here being a lucky to not have gone through all that, yet I still complain about my mom buying the wrong Cheerios instead of Fruit Loops. I need to be more grateful for what I have and the life I've lived so far.