When I got home, I was alone. Well, apart from Aiden (my 18-year-old know-it-all brother), who practically lives in his room. I ran up the stairs to my room, slammed the door behind me, locked it, and flopped down on my bed; burying my head in my pillow sobbing. The reality of it all had hit me like a brick wall on the way home; I had just argued with my best friend for the first time ever. Over a girl he liked.
I locked myself in my room for days. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t talk to anyone: even though people tried to talk to me: Annie, Hayley, Justin, Charlie. Even Christian tried. Ryan never did, though. And I guess that was what made it worse.
I had been locked away from everyone else for 6 days when, all of a sudden, I hear a knock on my window. I turned to look at it after getting up for the first time in days. I did a double-take; I had to. I couldn’t believe what I saw; Christian was outside my window, right outside my window. On the windowsill! I opened the window to let him in before he fell off and broke his neck landing wrong. After he was in, I shut the window, turned to him and said impatiently, “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to see you, obviously” he replies simply. “Erica, we’re worried; all of us are.”
“Ryan isn’t. He hasn’t even called” If I hadn’t been crying for days, I would’ve been crying by now, I’m certain of it. “He does care, honest to God. He’s been looking worried and glassy-eyed for days now.” He contradicted me. “Erica, why are you doing this? What’s happened?” Christian looked generally scared and worried.
“Why am I doing what? Locking myself away from the world? I don’t know. Maybe because I’m always wrong. Maybe because I don’t know people as well as I thought I did. I don’t know!” I blurt. Instantly I hate myself for saying what I did. Fortunately, Christian doesn’t. Instead of yelling back at me, he walks towards me and wraps me in his arms which were shockingly warm considering he was just outside in the cold. For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, months, or even years, I felt safe and secure. It was just something about him: Christian Parker. Something that always made the world calm.
I pulled out of his arms, “Thanks, Christian. I needed that.”
I told him that me and Ryan had had an argument (but I didn’t tell him what the argument was about) and said that that was why I had shut myself away: because I had always had Ryan there for me, no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it, anytime you need me I’ll be there for you. No matter the reason, place or time. It doesn’t matter if it’s completely inconvenient for me, I’ll be there. Just ring me or text me. It’s really no problem at all.”
“Now, you ready to face the world again?” He asks. I hesitate. Am I ready to? Am I ready to talk to people again? I don’t know. Of course, my heart and mouth don’t work together well though, because I told him, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be”
He took my hand and we went downstairs and explained what had happened upstairs (apart from me telling him why I had done what I did) before dragging me out the front door and to his car. “Where are we going?” I asked him, once we were in his car.
“Don’t worry; I’m not taking you to Ryan’s. I know how bad that’d be. I’m taking you somewhere else … to someone else.” Oh, thank God. He’s not taking me to Ryan. I’m not too worried now. Unless he takes me to Annie’s, Hayley’s, Charlie’s, or … Justin! That’s it! Justin would understand: he and Ryan argued a few months back. He would tell me what I should do.
“Umm … Christian … could you … maybe … take-me-to-see-Justin-please?” I rushed the end so it kinda sounded like ‘cnourjswdjuiwsisjusdwldse’. He looked at me confused so I repeated slower so that he could understand what I had said. After I repeated it, he didn’t reply straight away. He seemed to be thinking it over before saying, “Okay. Just give me directions”.
So I did. I told him to take the second right and then follow the road to the next cross roads and turn left before following the road until we got to Justin’s house. I don’t know how I knew he’d be here; I just did. “Christian?” I say.
“Could you maybe let me stay here alone for a bit? I’ll get Justin to take me back later. I need to talk to him.”
“Umm … sure. No problem. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. See you at school” I say. As he turns to get back in the car, I say, “Oh, and Christian … thanks”
“Everything” I say smiling. He doesn’t reply: he just gets in his car and goes.
I turned, walked to the front door, and knocked on it.