Lightheaded
Chapter 8 - Where Are Your Friends Tonight?
December 2013
Things got easier after Christmas because they always did. Tyson went back to school before Jillian and Harry which relieved most of the tension in the house and in the days since her appointment, Jillian had been eating more. They were small, but improvements nonetheless.
They were set to fly back on the 28th to give Jillian time to rest before classes resumed after the new year. The night before, everyone got together for dinner at a small Italian restaurant they’d always frequented together. Jillian wore a pretty dress she’d forgotten she’d left behind and she almost felt okay. Besides the throbbing at the back of her head and her limited energy, she was laughing and listening to stories and eating.
She slept for a solid twelve hours before her family dropped them off at airport. Her mother and sister cried, just like they had when they’d left in the fall, and her father hugged her a little tighter before pressing a fifty dollar bill into the palm of her hand.
It felt different that time. It didn’t feel as terrifying or monumental. It almost felt normal. She felt like she was going back where she belonged, not home necessarily, but somewhere that she’d made herself fit in too.
The security line was short and their gate was easy to find and before Jillian was aware of it, they were in the air again. Taking off was always more nerve wracking than landing. Feeling her body lift off the ground and her stomach jolt felt unnatural. For some reason her brain always liked to remind her of the History channel show she’d watched that told her most fatal accidents occurred before cruising altitude.
Harry had happily given her the window seat to curl up against with her jacket and balled up hoodie to nap and preserve her energy, but she was much more content with his shoulder. He was wearing a vintage Calvin Klein sweatshirt she’d thrifted him ages ago. It was dotted with holes and tears but it was even softer than the day she’d found it and best of all, it smelled like him.
“You alright?” he mumbled when they’d hit a steady altitude, “Like this?”
“Mhm, good,” she let her eyes fall shut, “Just like this.”
The once roaring white noise around her faded to the background as her mind drifted away. That was when she felt her best, almost okay again, when she was curled up in a ball in some hyperreal, half asleep state. She didn’t have to worry about the darkness that seeped into the edges of her vision sometimes or about the way her balance seemed to leave her all at once with no warning. She didn’t have to think. Her brain did everything on its own, creating works of art in her head that twisted together fiction and the sounds of the real world that she was only half aware of.
She didn’t have the slightest concept of how much time had passed when she woke, but that tended to happen when she flew. Everything blurred together in her head until her feet were on solid ground again. She was, however, distinctly aware of the kink in her neck and the fact that she hadn’t moved an inch away from Harry since dozing off.
She blinked heavily, eyes adjusting to the light pouring in and the sight in front of her. Harry was journalling. One of his familiar, torn up journals was cracked open on the tray table in front of him. His right hand was working furiously across the pages, dark ink looping and smudging together.
Jillian told herself, again, that she didn’t mean to read it. She was just waking up and she had to blink a lot to get her eyes to adjust to the light and it was right in front of her. It wasn’t her fault it was the first thing in front of her that wasn’t blurry.
...and I’m scared, I’m so fucking scared. I feel it in the depths of my chest, in the marrow of my bones. It’s the kind of scared you can’t shake off, like when you have a night terror as a child and climb into your parents’ bed shaking, fear wrapped around your throat and your tongue and…
*
The few days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve came quickly and almost made Jillian think that she was okay, that the strange sickness that was taking over her body was passing. She didn’t want to say it out loud, she was afraid to jinx it, she just hoped, late at night in the still of her bedroom.
She decided at the last minute that they should have a party, to ring in the New Year along with her birthday. She knew the only reason Harry agreed was because she guilt tripped him, but it was her first birthday away from home and she was doing okay. She was eating somewhat regular meals and awake for most of the day. She deserved something fun, something to relieve the tension of their shitty trip back home.
She invited all of their friends and acquaintances that hadn’t gone home for the holidays to their tiny apartment and insisted they bring a drink or a snack and dress up.
She wore a vintage, flapper style champagne dress with gold lamé detailing (x) that her mother had gotten her for Christmas. It was the most beautiful and intricate dress she’d ever laid eyes on and the moment she slipped it on, felt like magic. She felt ethereal and beautiful and she was convinced only good things could come from wearing it.
Harry made appetizers and put on a playlist he’d made, Jillian decorated the apartment with white Christmas lights and silver tinsel. The entire place was glowing, their own little winter wonderland.
People filtered in with knit hats and sparkly dresses and the smell of crisp, winter air. It was the most grown up Jillian had ever felt, in her thrifted Chanel flats with a glass of white wine in her hand greeting guests with kisses on cheeks. Her head was the most clear it had been in days and her stomach wasn’t churning at all. She felt normal. She felt grown.
Harry, however, was checking on her more than usual. He tried to flit around playing host but found himself continually drawn back to her, making sure she was still standing on two feet. She was annoyed at first, rolling her eyes or shooing him away, but the more wine she consumed, the more tolerant she was. By eleven she was pulling him closer and pleading with him to dance with her.
“Absolutely not,” he snorted as a Prince song came on in the background.
“Yes!” she was tugging at his hands trying to pull him up from the sofa, “I love this song!”
“You always muck up the words,” his eyes narrowed.
“I still love it!” she cried, clearly offended as her eyes widened and pink lips parted, “If you dance with me, I’ll tell you my New Year’s resolution!”
A mischievous smirk spread on her lips in the dim, yellow glow of the living room. There was something about it that made it impossible to say no, the indents of her dimples or the smudgeness of her lipstick. Or maybe it was the wine.
He stood, letting her think she’d pulled him to his feet by her own devices. The living room was a little packed but they’d moved the coffee table to the side so there was room to dance and mingle. It was a bit squished but they made do, big goofy grins on their faces while they swayed drunkenly and shouted the lyrics they did remember.
After a few songs, the music began to slow and Jillian’s forearms found their way to resting on Harry’s shoulders. She had to dance on her tiptoes to reach and it pulled her a bit closer, but she didn’t mind.
“You alright?” his brows knit, hands landing on the crooks of her elbows as if to steady her as she swayed to the music, “Wanna get a drink?”
She shook her head as an LCD Soundsystem song began to play, his eyes widening as she moved his hands to her waist and let her eyes fall shut, “One more song. I like to cry to this one.”
Eventually they made their way to the kitchen, both of their heads spinning with something different, something new. They found Niall and Kelsie pouring drinks amicably, which was strange, to say the least.
“Jillian!” Kelsie’s face lit up, eyes wide as she stepped away from Niall with pink cheeks, “There you are!”
“Here I am,” her eyes narrowed as she pulled out two Solo cups for her and Harry while he went to the freezer for ice.
“Great party,” Niall interjected awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and sipping his drink.
Jillian’s lips parted to say something but Kelsie was already taking her by the arm. She didn’t even have time to protest that Harry had returned with ice and Dr Pepper but zero alcohol.
Kelsie dragged her by the bicep, past drunken partygoers and empty bottles, down the tiny hall, into the bathroom. She slammed and locked the door behind her before kicking off her heels and leaning back against it with a dramatic sigh.
“Help,” she gasped for air, pulling her big, bouncy curls into a ponytail, “Niall’s being nice to me.”
Jillian blinked at her from where she was leaning against the tiny sink with her arms crossed over her chest, “That’s what you dragged me in here for?”
She nodded frantically, “Help.”
“Be nice back,” she rolled her eyes, “He’s probably drunk.”
“Ugh,” Kelsie groaned and slunk to the floor in a heap, “I’m drunk. And my feet hurt. Boys suck.”
Jillian snorted and sank to the floor as well, “Agreed.”
“How was Florida?” Kelsie stretched out her legs beside Jillian in the tiny bathroom. Her toes nearly touched the opposite wall, “How’s Cassidy?”
Jillian swallowed harshly. Harry was the only one outside of her family who knew how sick she’d really been or that she’d even gone to the doctor. She was afraid to tell anyone else, terrified they wouldn’t believe her or understand. Even her closest friends.
“Boring,” she lied with a shrug, “Tell me what I missed.”
Kelsie caught her up on everything her tipsy mind could recall. They sat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor until there was an urgent knock, a flustered Niall needing a piss and reminding them that it was almost midnight.
Kelsie disappeared to the living room and Jillian found Harry waiting in the kitchen with two watered down Dr Peppers. Waiting for her.
Jillian giggled, taking a cup, “I thought you said your New Year’s resolution was to drink less soda.”
Harry shrugged, a drunken grin on his lips, “It’s not midnight yet. And you never told me your resolution, y’know.”
She sipped her drink, eyeing the throng of people in the living room, “Can’t jinx it.”
“That’s bullshit,” he rolled his eyes, “You’re just afraid of being held accountable for it.”
Her cheeks tinged pink and she shrugged, “Maybe.”
They hung back from their small crowd of friends as the minutes ticked down. The weight of the impending new year and her birthday didn’t weigh as heavily on Jillian’s chest as it had other years.
Usually in the days and hours leading up to the start of the new year, Jillian felt a sense of failure or disappointment, as if she hadn’t done enough. As if she hadn’t said the things she should’ve or stepped out of her comfort zone enough. But that year, was different. That year she’d changed her entire life. She’d up and moved across the country with her best friend and left everything behind to study the one thing she loved most. Even if she had no idea how she wanted to make a career out of it.
She was so proud of the two of them that she nearly forgot about her current fears, about her health and her mental state and her perpetual loneliness and those damn love letters. She felt drunk off of it. They’d done what they always said they would. They were making something of their lives, of themselves, even if they didn’t quite know what that was yet.
As the seconds ticked down on the tiny television in the living room, Jillian tried to be in the moment and take it all in. The chanting filled her ears and the warm presence next to her kept her grounded.
Ten
She glanced over at him. One of his arms was heavy around her shoulders but it felt familiar and safe. Like home, even in their strange new city and strange little apartment. Their strange world.
Seven
He was chewing on his bottom lip, almost nervously. She wished she could read his mind.
Five
“Harry.”
Four
He blinked down at her, eyes hazy, “Hm?”
Three
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”
Two
A soft, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips, “You’re mine, Jilly-”
One
She pressed herself on her tiptoes without any thought, the world spinning a bit faster before slowing down completely as her lips landed on his.
Things got easier after Christmas because they always did. Tyson went back to school before Jillian and Harry which relieved most of the tension in the house and in the days since her appointment, Jillian had been eating more. They were small, but improvements nonetheless.
They were set to fly back on the 28th to give Jillian time to rest before classes resumed after the new year. The night before, everyone got together for dinner at a small Italian restaurant they’d always frequented together. Jillian wore a pretty dress she’d forgotten she’d left behind and she almost felt okay. Besides the throbbing at the back of her head and her limited energy, she was laughing and listening to stories and eating.
She slept for a solid twelve hours before her family dropped them off at airport. Her mother and sister cried, just like they had when they’d left in the fall, and her father hugged her a little tighter before pressing a fifty dollar bill into the palm of her hand.
It felt different that time. It didn’t feel as terrifying or monumental. It almost felt normal. She felt like she was going back where she belonged, not home necessarily, but somewhere that she’d made herself fit in too.
The security line was short and their gate was easy to find and before Jillian was aware of it, they were in the air again. Taking off was always more nerve wracking than landing. Feeling her body lift off the ground and her stomach jolt felt unnatural. For some reason her brain always liked to remind her of the History channel show she’d watched that told her most fatal accidents occurred before cruising altitude.
Harry had happily given her the window seat to curl up against with her jacket and balled up hoodie to nap and preserve her energy, but she was much more content with his shoulder. He was wearing a vintage Calvin Klein sweatshirt she’d thrifted him ages ago. It was dotted with holes and tears but it was even softer than the day she’d found it and best of all, it smelled like him.
“You alright?” he mumbled when they’d hit a steady altitude, “Like this?”
“Mhm, good,” she let her eyes fall shut, “Just like this.”
The once roaring white noise around her faded to the background as her mind drifted away. That was when she felt her best, almost okay again, when she was curled up in a ball in some hyperreal, half asleep state. She didn’t have to worry about the darkness that seeped into the edges of her vision sometimes or about the way her balance seemed to leave her all at once with no warning. She didn’t have to think. Her brain did everything on its own, creating works of art in her head that twisted together fiction and the sounds of the real world that she was only half aware of.
She didn’t have the slightest concept of how much time had passed when she woke, but that tended to happen when she flew. Everything blurred together in her head until her feet were on solid ground again. She was, however, distinctly aware of the kink in her neck and the fact that she hadn’t moved an inch away from Harry since dozing off.
She blinked heavily, eyes adjusting to the light pouring in and the sight in front of her. Harry was journalling. One of his familiar, torn up journals was cracked open on the tray table in front of him. His right hand was working furiously across the pages, dark ink looping and smudging together.
Jillian told herself, again, that she didn’t mean to read it. She was just waking up and she had to blink a lot to get her eyes to adjust to the light and it was right in front of her. It wasn’t her fault it was the first thing in front of her that wasn’t blurry.
...and I’m scared, I’m so fucking scared. I feel it in the depths of my chest, in the marrow of my bones. It’s the kind of scared you can’t shake off, like when you have a night terror as a child and climb into your parents’ bed shaking, fear wrapped around your throat and your tongue and…
*
The few days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve came quickly and almost made Jillian think that she was okay, that the strange sickness that was taking over her body was passing. She didn’t want to say it out loud, she was afraid to jinx it, she just hoped, late at night in the still of her bedroom.
She decided at the last minute that they should have a party, to ring in the New Year along with her birthday. She knew the only reason Harry agreed was because she guilt tripped him, but it was her first birthday away from home and she was doing okay. She was eating somewhat regular meals and awake for most of the day. She deserved something fun, something to relieve the tension of their shitty trip back home.
She invited all of their friends and acquaintances that hadn’t gone home for the holidays to their tiny apartment and insisted they bring a drink or a snack and dress up.
She wore a vintage, flapper style champagne dress with gold lamé detailing (x) that her mother had gotten her for Christmas. It was the most beautiful and intricate dress she’d ever laid eyes on and the moment she slipped it on, felt like magic. She felt ethereal and beautiful and she was convinced only good things could come from wearing it.
Harry made appetizers and put on a playlist he’d made, Jillian decorated the apartment with white Christmas lights and silver tinsel. The entire place was glowing, their own little winter wonderland.
People filtered in with knit hats and sparkly dresses and the smell of crisp, winter air. It was the most grown up Jillian had ever felt, in her thrifted Chanel flats with a glass of white wine in her hand greeting guests with kisses on cheeks. Her head was the most clear it had been in days and her stomach wasn’t churning at all. She felt normal. She felt grown.
Harry, however, was checking on her more than usual. He tried to flit around playing host but found himself continually drawn back to her, making sure she was still standing on two feet. She was annoyed at first, rolling her eyes or shooing him away, but the more wine she consumed, the more tolerant she was. By eleven she was pulling him closer and pleading with him to dance with her.
“Absolutely not,” he snorted as a Prince song came on in the background.
“Yes!” she was tugging at his hands trying to pull him up from the sofa, “I love this song!”
“You always muck up the words,” his eyes narrowed.
“I still love it!” she cried, clearly offended as her eyes widened and pink lips parted, “If you dance with me, I’ll tell you my New Year’s resolution!”
A mischievous smirk spread on her lips in the dim, yellow glow of the living room. There was something about it that made it impossible to say no, the indents of her dimples or the smudgeness of her lipstick. Or maybe it was the wine.
He stood, letting her think she’d pulled him to his feet by her own devices. The living room was a little packed but they’d moved the coffee table to the side so there was room to dance and mingle. It was a bit squished but they made do, big goofy grins on their faces while they swayed drunkenly and shouted the lyrics they did remember.
After a few songs, the music began to slow and Jillian’s forearms found their way to resting on Harry’s shoulders. She had to dance on her tiptoes to reach and it pulled her a bit closer, but she didn’t mind.
“You alright?” his brows knit, hands landing on the crooks of her elbows as if to steady her as she swayed to the music, “Wanna get a drink?”
She shook her head as an LCD Soundsystem song began to play, his eyes widening as she moved his hands to her waist and let her eyes fall shut, “One more song. I like to cry to this one.”
Eventually they made their way to the kitchen, both of their heads spinning with something different, something new. They found Niall and Kelsie pouring drinks amicably, which was strange, to say the least.
“Jillian!” Kelsie’s face lit up, eyes wide as she stepped away from Niall with pink cheeks, “There you are!”
“Here I am,” her eyes narrowed as she pulled out two Solo cups for her and Harry while he went to the freezer for ice.
“Great party,” Niall interjected awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and sipping his drink.
Jillian’s lips parted to say something but Kelsie was already taking her by the arm. She didn’t even have time to protest that Harry had returned with ice and Dr Pepper but zero alcohol.
Kelsie dragged her by the bicep, past drunken partygoers and empty bottles, down the tiny hall, into the bathroom. She slammed and locked the door behind her before kicking off her heels and leaning back against it with a dramatic sigh.
“Help,” she gasped for air, pulling her big, bouncy curls into a ponytail, “Niall’s being nice to me.”
Jillian blinked at her from where she was leaning against the tiny sink with her arms crossed over her chest, “That’s what you dragged me in here for?”
She nodded frantically, “Help.”
“Be nice back,” she rolled her eyes, “He’s probably drunk.”
“Ugh,” Kelsie groaned and slunk to the floor in a heap, “I’m drunk. And my feet hurt. Boys suck.”
Jillian snorted and sank to the floor as well, “Agreed.”
“How was Florida?” Kelsie stretched out her legs beside Jillian in the tiny bathroom. Her toes nearly touched the opposite wall, “How’s Cassidy?”
Jillian swallowed harshly. Harry was the only one outside of her family who knew how sick she’d really been or that she’d even gone to the doctor. She was afraid to tell anyone else, terrified they wouldn’t believe her or understand. Even her closest friends.
“Boring,” she lied with a shrug, “Tell me what I missed.”
Kelsie caught her up on everything her tipsy mind could recall. They sat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor until there was an urgent knock, a flustered Niall needing a piss and reminding them that it was almost midnight.
Kelsie disappeared to the living room and Jillian found Harry waiting in the kitchen with two watered down Dr Peppers. Waiting for her.
Jillian giggled, taking a cup, “I thought you said your New Year’s resolution was to drink less soda.”
Harry shrugged, a drunken grin on his lips, “It’s not midnight yet. And you never told me your resolution, y’know.”
She sipped her drink, eyeing the throng of people in the living room, “Can’t jinx it.”
“That’s bullshit,” he rolled his eyes, “You’re just afraid of being held accountable for it.”
Her cheeks tinged pink and she shrugged, “Maybe.”
They hung back from their small crowd of friends as the minutes ticked down. The weight of the impending new year and her birthday didn’t weigh as heavily on Jillian’s chest as it had other years.
Usually in the days and hours leading up to the start of the new year, Jillian felt a sense of failure or disappointment, as if she hadn’t done enough. As if she hadn’t said the things she should’ve or stepped out of her comfort zone enough. But that year, was different. That year she’d changed her entire life. She’d up and moved across the country with her best friend and left everything behind to study the one thing she loved most. Even if she had no idea how she wanted to make a career out of it.
She was so proud of the two of them that she nearly forgot about her current fears, about her health and her mental state and her perpetual loneliness and those damn love letters. She felt drunk off of it. They’d done what they always said they would. They were making something of their lives, of themselves, even if they didn’t quite know what that was yet.
As the seconds ticked down on the tiny television in the living room, Jillian tried to be in the moment and take it all in. The chanting filled her ears and the warm presence next to her kept her grounded.
Ten
She glanced over at him. One of his arms was heavy around her shoulders but it felt familiar and safe. Like home, even in their strange new city and strange little apartment. Their strange world.
Seven
He was chewing on his bottom lip, almost nervously. She wished she could read his mind.
Five
“Harry.”
Four
He blinked down at her, eyes hazy, “Hm?”
Three
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”
Two
A soft, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips, “You’re mine, Jilly-”
One
She pressed herself on her tiptoes without any thought, the world spinning a bit faster before slowing down completely as her lips landed on his.