Not Like You

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The pizza was good. I don't know here Harlow got it from, but it was good. 

My room was a mess of tissues and bandages and dirty clothes. I just couldn't bring myself to put them all away. My phone was out of battery, as was my laptop. My hair was a mess, and I've been inside Max's sweatshirt with underwear and shorts for four days.

I couldn've called my Dad. I should have. Or even Max. I should have called him back and embraced him and apologized so many times it hurt.

But that never happened. 

My sleep was filled with nightmares of my Mom, Jax, and Max alike. My sleep was never peaceful, or long. The nightmares seemed o last for days, while some never went past an hour.

My hands were bandaged. I did change them once a day when I went to the bathroom and refilled my water bottle. It was the only time I left my dor. I varied the time as well, so no one could follow me.

Couldn't they see I just want ed to be alone in my sorrow? Couldn't they see how broken I was? Why didn't they stay away?

Maybe they cared about me. Maybe Max put them up to it. Whatever it was, they were too kind, and I pushed them away too, even though the voice inside my head told me to let them help. To let them pull me out of whatever I was in.

My second book stopped almost as soon as it started. Well, if I was being honest, it was my sixth book. I started four others from my first, but when I started this one, it just felt right. Now it felt wrong. Everything did.

I could only eat two slices of the huge pizza Belle ordered. My stomach must have shrunk to the size of a walnut. I guess that's good in a way. The pizza will last in my minifridge for a little while.

as I dragged myself to the bathroom, I ignored the stares around me. Lots of my classmates had also stopped by, wondering where I was. My professors hadn't yet, but I suspected they'd be coming soon. 

The hot water ran off my body in beads. I shampooed my hair and cleaned my small cuts and bruises. When I was done, I didn't look as much like a zombie anymore. Despite my tiredness, I still had huge dark circles under my eyes.

When I went back to my dorm, I threw everything on the floor into a huge pile so I could walk around it. 

The knock on my door pulled me out of my zone.

"Go away," I called, my voice still hoarse from crying and yelling at myself.

"Rose?" I stopped and got up, rushing to the door. When I opened it, there stood my Dad, alone.

"Daddy," I fell in his arms and he walked me into the dorm, closing the door.

"Oh, Rose," he kissed my head and hugged me. I thought I had no tears left, but they started pouring out of my eyes.

"Oh, Dad," he hugged me tighter and shushed me, swaling me back in forth. 

When I finally stopped, we sat down on my bed and Dad surveyed the room.

"How are you here?" I asked. I remembered the last encounter I had with my Dad and grimaced slightly. 

"You have people who care about you, a lot. Rose, why didn't you turn to me?" he asked. I sighed and looked at him. He raised his eyes in understanding.

"I guess part of that was my fault. Rose, you should know, about that day in the cabin I... I don't know what I was thinking," he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "I do apologize. Do you understand why I said that, though?" I nodded.

"Yeah. Some of what you said was true, after all. But none of it matters anymore,"

"Yes it does, Rose," he took my hand.