IF SHE DID NOT WANT to wait for me last night, she could have said something. I knew it was rude of me to answer my phone when I was supposed to spend every second with her but I did not have much of a choice. If I had not answered my phone, I would have done something I would regret later on down the road. Kissing her was too soon. Holding her hand was already too much and my heart wanted to explode. However, I doubted her heart felt the same way.

When I went back to the bench, Sydney was nowhere in sight. I walked around the block a few times thinking she decided to stretch her legs, but I was unable to find her. Assuming she went back to the club without me, I went back and looked for her. Still, I could not find her and it seemed odd. I spotted Olivia and she was very shocked to see me. After I told her Sydney disappeared, she told me she probably went back home. I questioned if that meant Olivia was without a ride but she informed me that she drove herself.

Did that mean Sydney walked back to the apartment by herself?

I laid on my bed, throwing a little blue ball into the air and catching it every time it came falling back down. This ball was a symbol of my life. Every time something outstanding happened, my life moved upward into a good place. My life was free but it was also exposed and vulnerable. Every time something displeasing happened, my life fell back down into the depths of Hell. It was caught in a cage very similar to my hand and it was unable to move...no longer free.

My phone sat on the nightstand and it would be a lie if I said I was not waiting for a call or text from Sydney. I wished she would have let me know she made it in all right. She took my blazer with her and sooner or later, I was going to need that back. The ball came falling back down and I caught it, not bothering to toss it back into the air.

The sound of the television downstairs echoed throughout the house and I knew Greysen was trying to distract himself with whatever the hell he was watching. I had no idea what time it was but I knew it was still morning. Sydney and I were supposed to meet up for coffee. Since we had not spoken to each other since I went to answer my phone, I assumed our little coffee gathering was out of the question.

A text message letting me know what happened last night would have been nice.

I threw the ball across the room, it bouncing off the wall almost immediately and rolling off to find its new hiding place. Rolling over onto my stomach, I buried my face in my pillow and groaned. Something told me not to go to the club last night with Greysen. We would have been fine if we stayed in the house.

I just had to give in to his most desperate needs.

I just had to be a good friend.

I just had to run into Sydney.

Another groan.

The volume on the television was turned up and I lifted my head up from the pillow, my face twisting with disgust and horror at what I was hearing. I immediately got out of bed, my foot getting caught on the rug, and nearly fell on my face. My hand shot out and grabbed the edge of the nightstand to prevent me from breaking my nose. I steadied myself and continued on my way. Greysen was laughing and I shook my head, tempted to cover my ears with my hands.

"What the hell?"

I trudged down the stairs to find him sitting on the sofa with a plate of Kellogg's Eggo waffles. There was not an ounce of syrup on the plate, meaning he was just picking them up and biting into them without the extra sticky mess. I looked at the television screen and groaned. Greysen was only amused by this and he tried looking around me to continue watching his porn.

"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"Okay," he grinned. "It isn't."

"Where's the remote?" I asked. "It's too loud."

"Oh, it's right—" he stopped and puckered his lips as he looked around him. "I could have sworn it was beside me. Hey, can you, like, move to the side? You're kind of blocking the screen."

"Find the remote," I said through gritted teeth. "And get it off of this mess."

"Mess?" he laughed. "I prefer to call it art."

I watched him with cautious eyes and he stared back, confusion clear on his features. He moved his hand underneath his bottom and pulled out the remote. It was obvious he was hiding it from me by sitting on it but now that he saw how troubled I truly was, he wanted to interrogate me until he found out what was wrong. Steadily, he held the remote in front of the television and paused his gruesome film. He sat his plate of waffles to the side and turned his attention back to me.

"What's wrong?"

"Who's to say anything is wrong with me?"

He scoffed, "Don't try that. We've been friends for years. I know how you are and something is clearly bothering you. I don't have any plans for the day so I can stand—well, sit here all day and wait for you to tell me."

"Nothing is wrong."

"Hmm," he shook his head and laughed. "Fine. Don't tell your best friend, the friend who let you shoot up your backyard to get your anger out. Go on, then. Leave this sad, sad human in the dark."

I rolled my eyes, "I saw her last night, Greysen."

"Who?"

"Her."

"Oh," he nodded, processing what I just told him. "Oh. Oh. Oh, shit. Are you okay?"

"No, Greysen, I'm not. I saw her and all of the feelings I thought were gone came rushing back into my heart. She was happy. She was the same Sydney I had fallen in love with. I thought she would have changed but she didn't She was still the same and that made me love her even more."

Greysen rubbed the stubble on his face and cleared his throat before speaking, "I know you love her. Hell, we all know. But, please, tell me what I'm not understanding. Why do you look like you want to drink an entire bottle of bleach? I mean, I won't judge but isn't that the complete opposite of how you're supposed to be feeling?"

"She left me last night."

"Oh, this just gets better and better," he sarcastically implied.

"She just ran off," I continued. "Olivia told me she went home but why would she do that? We were having a good time. We were enjoying each other's company. I...I don't understand. Did I do something wrong that made her want to leave me without any word of her whereabouts? Greysen, I love her and I don't want to lose her but she's slipping through my fingers quicker than quicksand itself."

He stared at me with a blank expression and, very slowly, picked up one of his waffles and bit into it as he studied me from the sofa, shirtless in boxer briefs. It was obvious he felt sorry for me. Everyone seemed to feel sorry for me. I even felt sorry for myself. In all honesty, I was pretty pathetic to let someone affect me like she was. Sydney knew how to dig underneath my flesh and make me feel things I did not want to feel. A part of me did not want me to love her but a much bigger part wanted to love every single piece of her.

"Did you try calling her?" Greysen asked.

"And come off as desperate?" I looked down at my bare feet.

"Chicken."

"Sex freak."

"Ouch," he placed a hand on his chest and laughed. "But you're right."

I made myself comfortable on the sofa beside him and tried my best not to look at the paused porno on the television screen. Greysen, of course, did not seem bothered by what was on the screen and I reminded myself to shut this down later. After today, he was no longer going to be allowed to watch things such as this on my television. If he wanted to watch such things, he could go buy his own television or just go home.

"If I call her, she'll know I'm desperate and she'll know I want her."

"And...you don't want her to know that?"

I looked at him and frowned, my voice softening, "Jillian just died, Greysen. I can't move on the day after her funeral. What will that make me look like?"

"A man whore." I shoved him and he laughed. "Okay, so you refuse to call her. Are you just going to sit around hoping she'll contact you first?"

"We're supposed to meet up for coffee. Now that she's run off, I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon. She didn't even tell me where she went. I thought something happened to her, you know?"

"You should really be telling her this," he said, taking a bite out of his waffle. "Because, no offense, I don't have a love life and I'm pretty sure I'm not even loved by your fish. So, hearing about your excuse of a love life is kind of depressing."

"If I go over there, Olivia will get rid of me before Sydney even notices I'm there."

"Have you ever heard of screaming and shouting? I mean, come on. She'll know you're there if she hears your voice."

I looked at my friend, "You really think I should go over there?"

"I really think you should hurry up and make a decision so I can go back to watching my film."

"I'm banning you from ever watching porn in my house, you hear me?"

He only shrugged, "I have other friends with televisions."

"And you also have a home."

We sat in silence for what seemed like decades and every now and then, we took turns sighing. Greysen turned the television off after sitting for about fifteen minutes, muttering something about me ruining the mood. I ignored him and ran a tired hand down my face. Sydney was still fresh in my mind and there was no way I could get her out of it. I was still hurt she left me out there like she did without telling me why. Was I really that bad of company last night? After everything I had been through, I thought I was doing a damn good job.

"What if I go over there and neither one of them are home? Then it would have all been for nothing."

"It's called becoming the desperate man you've always wanted to be."

"I don't—"

"Either wait for one of them to come back or just try again later. It's that simple. Look man, my waffles are cold now so I'm going to stick them in the microwave for a couple of seconds."

"You're amazing at giving advice." I muttered.

"Right?" he stood up from the sofa and paused. "Oh, and you need to put tissue in the bathroom upstairs. I used the rest of it earlier."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You know where everything is in my house. Why don't you get the tissue yourself?"

"I don't know," he grabbed his plate of cold waffles. "That kind of stuff just magically appears in the bathroom."

He disappeared from view and I heaved a heavy sigh before pushing myself off of the sofa. Wrapping my arms around myself, I made my way back upstairs, hoping and praying Greysen would turn the volume down if he decided to continue his explicit film. With each step I took, my feet sunk into the comfortable carpet beneath me and I just wanted to lay there for days. Instead, I went into my room and plopped down on the bed. My hair bounced in front of my eyes and I moved it back, groaning before picking my phone up from the nightstand.

I turned it on and my breath hitched in my throat.

There was one missed call.

And it was a number I did not recognize.

I laid back on the bed, holding the phone high enough for me to see the screen, and studied it for a moment. It did not take a genius to know it was Sydney who had called me. What made her want to call me after all this time, though? She could have called me last night when I was worried sick about her. I was glad she called me back, though. Dialing her number, I placed the phone next to my ear and waited impatiently for her to pick up.

She answered on the second ring.

"Harry," she breathed into the phone.

"Hi," was the only thing I could say.

Her voice was small, fragile, as if it would shatter even if the tiniest thing touched it, "I...I am so sorry about last night."

"It's fine," I tried to joke around and lighten the mood. "I'm used to being abandoned."

There was a pause and then there was a slight noise very close to a sob. Slowly, I sat up and listened as Sydney cried on the other line. It was clear she was trying her best not to cry but it was getting the best of her. I imagined her sitting alone in her room with no one to comfort her like I had done the night she woke up from her nightmare. Knowing Olivia, she was probably still asleep, the drinks from last night adding up and giving her the worst headache ever.

"Don't cry," I tried to soothe her. "There's no need for that."

But she did not listen to me.

She continued to cry.

"Sydney?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I can't help you until you tell me what's wrong. Come on, now. Tell me what's on your mind."

She sniffed and when she spoke, her voice was shaky, "Harry, how did I get home last night?"

I raised my eyebrows at her question. How did she not remember getting home? She walked herself there. I stared ahead at the wall and tried to figure this out. The only explanation I could think of was intoxication from alcohol but she was acting perfectly fine last night. She did not act the slightest bit drunk and when I got close enough to her face, I did not smell an ounce of alcohol on her breath. In fact, her breath smelled minty like fresh toothpaste or mouthwash.

"You don't remember how you got there?"

There was another pause.

"No, no, of course I remember. I just...I wanted to make sure you knew. I'm sure you were worried about me after I left."

"Olivia told me you went home but didn't take her car. Did you walk home all by yourself, Sydney?"

Another pause.

"I wasn't going to take her car and leave her stranded."

She sounded as if she was in a lot of pain and I was not buying her story at all. Why ask me if I knew where she went? When I went back to the bench, she was already gone. Something was off in the tone of her voice, like she wanted to tell me what was really wrong but she was stopping herself. I scratched the back of my head and closed my eyes. I was not going to confront her about lying to me right now. She was a mess and I did not want to make matters worse.

"Why didn't you wait for me? I could have taken you home."

"Oh, you know, Greysen was still having a good time when I went to tell Olivia I was leaving. I knew you weren't going to abandon your friend just to take me home. It wasn't a long walk. I...I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm fine."

"Why are you still crying, then?" It was quiet on the other line and I started to get nervous; cue the rambling, "Look, you don't have to tell me what's wrong because it's none of my business. I was worried about you, Syd. Just know that, okay? When you weren't where I left you, I thought something terrible had happened. I called your phone over and over again but you wouldn't answer. Do you know how many times I checked my phone this morning thinking you would call or text? You did neither until about ten minutes ago. And to think I thought you cared—"

"I...I got a new phone."

"Yeah, I figured," I sighed. "But why?"

Her tone was steady now, careful not to give anything away, "On my way home last night, I had my old phone tucked in my back pocket. My pockets were not very deep but I was so eager to get home that it did not occur to me it could fall out. I was walking fast because it was dark out and my phone slipped. It shattered as soon as it hit the sidewalk and there was nothing I could do with it."

"So, what? You just woke up this morning and went out to get your new phone?"

"Yes," she sounded like a robot and I hated it.

"Did it ever occur to you that you should have called me as soon as you got this new phone? We were supposed to meet for coffee this morning. Please don't tell me you forgot because your new phone was more important. You could contacted me. I know for a fact Olivia has a house phone."

She snapped, "What's it to you, anyway? No one told you to go looking for me. Maybe I needed some time to myself. Did you ever stop to think about that? Maybe I didn't want to be found last night. Perhaps I didn't want to contact you once I got my new phone. Do you ever stop and think about feelings other than your own? The world isn't always about you!"

I was shocked at her response but I said nothing. What was I supposed to say to that? Every time I opened my mouth, a lump formed in my throat and my brain was nothing but a bunch of mush. I could not think of a response and it upset me.

My silence must have upset Sydney, too, because she hung up without even saying goodbye.

Tossing my phone to the side, I felt my heart tighten, like someone plunged their hands into my chest and was slowly squeezing. I could not have her hate me. I knew I should not have allowed my feelings to get in my way and I knew she probably hated me more than ever now. I did the complete opposite of what I wanted to do—I made things worse.

My stubbornness and impulsiveness drove my actions, causing me to throw on some shoes at random, and rush outside to my car.

She was going to talk to me whether she liked it or not.