How A Heart Breaks

Ryan is speaking a lot and loudly, using hand gestures to emphasize his voice even further. He is the classical exaggerator, trying to make his stories more interesting than they are. He is what you could call, a little dramatic. Though, I do admit, he does keep me entertained throughout the day with his erratic movements. Just as suspected, he had bounced back to normal, care-free Ryan once the bruise became not at all noticeable. In fact, it was almost as though it had never happened to him at all.

But I’ve got other things on my mind, have had other things on my mind since I spoke with Porter last. I know that when I first heard him, he sounded like normal Porter, the guy that I knew before everything happened. But then I really tuned into his voice, and maybe it was just because I care enough to notice, or maybe I pay too much attention to the sound, but it definitely sounded off, a hint of something not-so-Porter like. And whatever it was, it had me wondering, worrying and it was on my mind almost constantly. It had me thinking, had I still been there, would it be different? Could I have possibly made things better?

I’m not so sure, but I’d like to believe it wouldn’t have mattered. Because as long as it wouldn’t have mattered, it’s not my fault that there’s a dark-ish edge to his voice. It seems to be the only thing I can concentrate on, and I'm snapped out of it by Ryan waving his small hand in front of my face. I look up at him, and he's got my phone outstretched.

"It's some Nathan guy, says its important." I furrow my eyebrows, swallow the worried feeling that arises (or try to, at least), and I slowly take the phone away from Ryan.

"Hello?" My voice wavers a bit with uncertainty- uncertainty of whether or not I want to hear what Nathan has got to say.

"Hey, Pash..." He pauses, "what's up?" I roll my eyes, knowing small talk is Nathan's way of avoiding the subject. The anxiety is just about to swallow me whole, and so I need to know what's so important.

"Nathan, what's wrong?" I sense hesitation at the other end of the line, and then a sigh emits from his lips. In my head, I'm repeating I hope it's not about Porter, I hope its not about Porter. But, alas....

"It's Porter." I crumble, "I...I think he's in trouble." I squint my eyes, which have tears blurring up, and Ryan is looking at me like holy shit, because he's never seen me like this before. He continues to watch me intently as I look up to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

"Trouble." I copy, "What kind of trouble?"

"Well, you know..." Again, hesitation is in full force.

"What kind of fucking trouble, Nathan?" I growl, my hand curling into a fist. I fucking knew there was something wrong with Porter, I should have gotten on the first plane back to him, and shook him so hard he would come to his senses.

"I think..." he pauses, sighs, "I think he might be...doing drugs." My eyes nearly pop out of my skull, and I stand up.

"Drugs? what kind of fucking drugs?"

"I don't know!" He says in a nervous voice, "drugs!" My free hand comes up to my forehead and I close my eyes.

"Fuck." Is the only thing I can say.

"He's...It's bad. We're almost in Toronto- we’re going to play at Arrow Hall... Pash. He needs you."

"Yeah..." I say, "okay." My voice shakes with the threat of tears, and I hang up on Nathan without another word. Ryan is looking at me, wide-eyed, and I tell him that I'm not going back to work today, but I don't wait for a response. I dial my mothers' number and tell her to get me a plane ticket, tell her to get me a ticket to Toronto, Canada. Now. I speed down the road, getting stopped and a ticket, which is effectively tossed aside while I grumble obscenities on the way home.

It’s as If I’m moving in slow motion while the world is on fast-forward, which seems so damn dramatic. I quickly run into my house, ask my mom if she called while I pack a quick bag of clothing and grabbed my stack of money, then I quickly get back in my car, make the short (kind of) drive to Porters house. His parents are shocked I’m here, and he isn’t. They ask question that I blow off, and I run up to his room, grab this teddy bear I bought him a long time ago, and run out of his house, his mother shouting me a goodbye.

And then, I’m at the airport, my ticket it in hand while I bob my leg up and down repeatedly and bite on my lip. Why the hell is everything going so slow today? My plane was delayed by a half an hour, apparently, and when it finally did arrive, I was so anxious, my hands were shaking. When I settled in my seat, I realized that I probably won’t be there on time, whatever that time was. Bubbles pop in my stomach as I try to relax, though it seems almost impossible, and the flight to Toronto seems really long, though it isn’t really.

When the plane lands, I feel like I’m in one of those video games, the ones where you’re being timed. You have to get through the obstacles, and hope that you’ll finish before the clock runs out. So, all I feel is pressure as I locate my bag, and a taxi and tell him to take me to Arrow Hall, he doesn’t speak and the drive seems longer than the plane ride, which leaves me bobbing my leg up and down again. When the taxi pulls over, I give him the money, 125. 68 dollars, to be exact, and once I emerge from the strangers’ car, I realize that I have absolutely no idea where to go, how to find him. And there are sirens down the street, cars in the road and I’m looking at a gigantic parking lot. The sirens ring in my ear as I take a step forward, and my phone goes off. The display reads Nathan, I sigh and answer.

“Hello?”