Heavy Heart

Daria and Litzy gathered their things to leave Modern Philosophy, having just taken a test that absolutely rocked Daria’s world. She studied hard, the way she always did, but there were other things on her mind as she filled in the bubbles on her sheet, her eyes scanning the pattern before turning it in with tentative hands. Litzy seemed equally bent out of shape as they left the lecture hall, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, and her face dejected.

“How do you think you did?” she asked once they were outside, the crisp October air nipping at them diligently. Daria shrugged, not wanting to say for fear that she would maybe jinx it.

“I got my Populations score back,” she replied instead, tucking her books into her bag. “That went surprisingly well, I guess.”

“Surprisingly?” Litzy asked, the wind blowing the cropped blonde strands of her hair around her face, tickling at her button nose. “What do you mean, surprisingly?”

Daria kept the news of her and Harry bottled up for days after he paid her the visit in the middle of her study attempt. She wasn’t sure of how to go about telling her friends – though they had been growing closer and closer by the day, she wasn’t always so surefooted when it came to boys. In fact, she was never surefooted when it came to boys. In Daria’s mind, there was never time for them, always focused on her mother and her job and her schoolwork and taking care of everything else in between. She didn’t want to complicate things by telling anyone what had happened between her and Harry because that would make it all that much more real, and she still wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

“I just didn’t study very much, that’s all,” she answered. “Harry came over and was very distracting.”

“Sounds like Harry,” Litzy confirmed nonchalantly. To everyone on the outside, Daria realized, she and Harry were just best mates. They called each other, he came to visit, she spent time with him at his parents’ on the weekends, but most importantly, they were both extremely busy. There could never be any time for anything more, or so they all thought. In reality, when Harry was over and Olivia was out at her club meetings, they spent most of the time being something more.

“Not distracting in just a normally Harry way…” Daria trailed off timidly, casting a gaze to Litzy from beneath her eyelashes. Keeping it a secret from her friends was starting to drive her crazy. Not that Harry had ever asked her to keep it a secret; in his eyes, it didn’t matter if everyone knew or not. Daria just knew that things often didn’t last, especially when it came to boys, and when he decided to leave due to her tentative craziness, it would be easier if people didn’t know. But the more and more her friends divulged about themselves, the more and more Daria wanted to just tell them. And on the way home to Shackleton with Litzy, it was coming out like vomit.

“What do you mean?” Litzy questioned, truly confused.

“He was distracting me,” Daria said in a near whisper, “well, with his lips.”

The book in Litzy’s hand fell to the ground as she came to a complete stop on the path. Daria looked up to see the most dazzling smile on her face, her eyes wide with startled excitement. There was a long silence between them as a long, muted squeal escaped Litzy’s lips.

“Daria!” she exclaimed. “That was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t exactly know what to say,” she muttered, picking up the book Litzy had careless dropped in her shock. “I didn’t want to say anything if it wasn’t going to be a continued thing, I would have just looked stupid. Come on, you’re causing a scene.”

She looped her arm through Litzy’s and started dragging her down the path as her friend rambled off questions in rapid fire, the succession so quick Daria had no chance to answer them. “Wait!” Litzy exclaimed, pressing her manicured hand to her cheeks, tinged with pinkness from the wind. “Poppy and Olivia are back in the room, you have to wait until we’re there so we can all know at once. I already know too much.”

Daria nodded, a sense of dread permeating her stomach. She had said too much, and was beginning to regret even bringing up the subject in the first place. There was no going back now. As much as she really did want her friends to know about what was going on, the thought of making her and Harry a real thing terrified her. It was as if as soon as the words hit the air, something would magically change and ruin it all.

When they reached Litzy’s room, it felt oddly empty – the only occupants being Poppy and Olivia, listening to Marina and the Diamonds and painting their nails. Immediately, Litzy dropped her belongings and informed them that Daria had a story she needed to tell.

“And she needs to tell it now,” Litzy cheered excitedly, clambering onto her bed and sitting at attention. Daria almost wanted to hand her a bag of popcorn for her to munch on like her life was a strange movie of some sort, from the way Litzy was acting.

“What’s going on?” Olivia asked, her face concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is better than okay!” Litzy cried.

“Would you shut up and let the girl talk?” Poppy chided, sending Litzy a pointed look. Immediately, Litzy’s hands went to cover her mouth to prevent more words from coming out. Her smile was so bright you could practically see it through her hands.

Daria took a deep breath and sat down next to Litzy on her bed, tucking her knees up under her chin. That familiar feeling of panic was overwhelming in her core as she glanced between her friends, the closest out of all of them. She told herself she shouldn’t feel so nervous about telling them, that they were her friends and that they would support her no matter what happened between her and Harry. With a decided determination, she opened her mouth to speak.

“But you all must promise you won’t tell anyone,” she murmured, causing Olivia and Poppy to roll closer in their desk chairs. “Promise.”

Daria stuck out her pinky for the rest of the girls to clasp onto, solidifying their promise in the most elementary way. But Daria was traditional in that sense, a pinky promise being one of the most holy binding promises of all. The girls nodded amongst themselves, promising to each other that this secret would be kept between them. When they pulled away, Daria began her confession.

“Harry kissed me,” she admitted, soliciting gasps from both Poppy and Olivia. They glanced between themselves and then to Litzy, who was looking rather smug with the fact that she knew first.

“And has been kissing me, well, a lot,” she continued slowly, watching the emotions develop on her friend’s faces. Poppy’s bright red lacquered lips formed into an elongated ‘O,’ while Olivia sat dumbfounded, a smile creeping onto her lips.

“Please don’t freak out or be mad,” Daria mumbled, picking nervously at her top-knot. “It’s not that I didn’t want ton tell you. I’m just really scared and confused and I’ve never felt this way about a guy before.”

Glancing at each other and exuding a subdued squeal between them, both Poppy and Olivia launched themselves onto Litzy’s bed, wrapping the pair in an excited hug. There was lots of giggling and poking and prodding, Daria’s friends finding themselves at a loss for words.

“I thought there was something going on!” Olivia cried, her bright emerald eyes dancing.

A small smile curled onto Daria’s lips, giving her away. “Mostly when you were at printmaking club,” she disclosed quietly. “And photography club. And poetry club.”

A stricken look crossed Olivia’s face while Litzy and Poppy burst into an explosion of laughter. After getting over the initial shock, Olivia began laughing too, curling up into Daria’s side and resting her head on her shoulder.

“I guess I’m going to have to quit some clubs to keep an eye on you two!”

Daria’s friends laughed and picked at her, raking over all the details and leaving not a stone unturned. They demanded to know how Harry had first kissed her, why she hadn’t told them for a week after, what that all even meant, what they were going to tell his parents, if she was going to become a celebrity girlfriend.

All the while, the uneasy feeling in Daria’s stomach grew and grew. Her mouth went unusually dry, her stomach churned, her heart pounded. There were so many implications that followed her being involved with Harry Styles that she was absolutely overwhelmed.

“Should I be feeling so panicky?” she managed to spit out with a trembling voice, interrupting the flow of conversation. The girls quieted and looked at her quizzically, concern pricking at the corners of their mouths.

“What kind of panic is it?” Olivia asked hurriedly, placing a hand on hers.

“The usual kind of panic I have, I guess,” Daria muttered, lacing her fingers through Olivia’s and squeezing tightly. “I just don’t know if it’s normal to be feeling it about all this.”

They were quiet between themselves, Litzy and Olivia’s gazes cast elsewhere, but Poppy’s locked directly onto Daria. Her grey eyes shimmered knowingly, though her grown out fringe fell across them, obscuring their view. She took Daria’s open hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.

“Is it like this often?” she asked. “The panic?”

Daria nodded. “Mostly in social situations, you know. Where I am with a lot of new people or when there’s a lot of attention placed on me. Sometimes it’s better than others. I guess it depends on how much pressure there is.”

“I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, so tell me if this is too much or completely out of the question,” Poppy started cautiously, her lips moving languidly with her words, entrancing Daria in a strange way. “But have you ever been to see someone? To talk to them? Like a therapist?”

Daria was silent, Poppy’s question not surprising to her. She had never been to see a therapist – her mother looked down on seeking help. In her opinion, the Holmes women were strong and could soldier through anything right on their own. Clearly that didn’t work, judging by the state of her mother’s sanity and even Daria’s own. She shook her head to Poppy, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

“Have you ever considered it?” she asked softly. “It could really help with your anxiety.”

Daria considered that possibility very seriously. She’d never really thought about seeking help after her father’s passing much more than her mother had said “absolutely not.” It had always been so taboo that it really hadn’t crossed her mind whenever the panic gripped her like two giant hands, strangling her to death. But it occurred to her – coming to Birmingham was supposed to be about moving forward. She was making friends, she was infatuated with a boy – albeit a boy that drove her crazy, she was making strides in her classes. Maybe therapy was the final step.

“Do you know a place I could go?” she asked quietly.

“I do,” Poppy offered. “I go to one in London. My second step-mom thought it would maybe be a good idea after my father brought home the papers for divorce. It’s gotten me through two more of his marriages and a hell of a lot of self-image issues. I could call and get you an appointment.”

Dr. Gupta was a busy man, with lots of appointments and many more flooding in each day. But with Poppy’s plea for help for her friend, Dr. Gupta worked her into his schedule. Her first appointment several weeks out, but Daria figured it was just as well she waited. She’d been waiting all these years; a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt.

The girls lay together in Litzy’s bed when Poppy hung up the phone, their heads resting on each other awkwardly, like a puzzle that wasn’t quite put together properly. But Daria was okay with that – though her friends were very different from her and what she was used to back in Connecticut, she was infinitely grateful for them. They took care of her, and for years, that was just was she needed.