Luke's POV

“Luke, are you alright?”

Why can't I just be alone?

Delilah comes and sits beside me on the cold tiled floor. She looks at me with wide eyes. She seems scared and worried.

I move over a little so she's not so close.

“What happened? Did someone do something to you?” she whispers. She's talking as if anyone could hear us, but there's no one around.

I shake my head no, not looking up at her.

She notices my abnormal breathing and my shaky hands as I reach up to fix my hair.

She leans her head against the wall and turns her body so she's facing me. “Why are your hands shaking? Luke, what- Oh my God, you're having a panic attack, aren't you?”

I slowly nod.

She speaks quietly, barely audible. “I'm really sorry. I honestly thought it was just a few people. Ashton said it was just some of his friends hanging out. He didn't say it was this. If I had known it was gonna be like this, I wouldn't have come either. It's sorta overwhelming. I hate stuff like this.”

Delilah seems like she's being truthful, and I believe her for some reason. There's just something about her words that makes me believe she's not lying.

“Do you need anything to stop it? Are you going to be alright?” she asks concerned. "I can go get you some water or something."

I give her a thumbs up to indicate I'll be alright.

We sit in silence for a minute or two. The only sound is the muffled noise from outside the bathroom. I can still hear the music and people screaming. It makes my head pound just thinking about it.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, looking over at me.

I look at her for the first time and see the sincerity in her eyes.

It's not pity like I thought it was earlier. It's empathy.

I nod slowly.

She stands up and reaches down to lend me a hand. She smiles a little and nods slightly, as if she's saying it's okay.

I hesitatingly accept it.

“Just follow me. If you get nervous, let me know. I just need to find Ashton,” she tells me as we leave the bathroom. She's still talking quietly, and I like it for some reason. It makes me feel like I can trust her, like she'll keep this all a secret. She's not treating me like a child or getting upset with me like everyone else. She's just acting natural about it. “Are you okay now?”

I nod.

She weaves in and out of the crowd of people as we move through the house. I focus on Delilah, careful not to lose her. I try to ignore the many people surrounding me. I don't need more anxiety.

We make it to the kitchen to see Ashton chugging a beer with a few other guys. There's already multiple drinks around him, I wonder if they're all his. When he's done, he slaps the beer down on the counter top and licks his lips.

He notices us and waves.

“Well, hey guys!” he screams. “We're just... I won... and the beer... so good...” he slurs. He is so drunk.

Delilah puts her hand to her temple and takes a deep breath. “Luke and I are leaving!” she shouts over to noise.

“Have a dandy time,” Ashton says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Delilah rolls her eyes. “You should come with us, you're so drunk,” she tells him.

He waves her off. “I'm not drunk, I'm Ashton!”

“Someone is going to be just a tad bit hungover in the morning,” Delilah says.

“I am not a tadpole! I told you, I'm Ashton!” he screams. “Wait, what's a tadpole?”

“Ashton, you need to leave,” she says, tugging at his wrist.

“Heyyyyy, let go of meeee!” he whines. He jumps up and down. “I'm having funnnn!”

“You're not gonna be having fun tomorrow,” she mumbles. She grabs Ashton's wrist and forcefully pulls him out of the kitchen. He whines and pouts, but quickly notices a beer in someone's hand. He grabs it and drinks it before giving it back to them.

“Delulah,” Ashton says, pronouncing her name wrong.

“What?” Delilah says, sounding annoyed but also trying not to laugh.

“Delooooooolahhhhhhhh!” Ashton sings. “Delulah is so coolah, and she likes to hula. Hula hula hulaaaa,” Ashton says, dancing like a Hawaiian dancer.

“Ashton, c'mon!” Delilah says.

Ashton laughs for no reason, and it is extremely high pitched. I put my finger up to my ear because of the noise he's causing. People turn and stare at us as Ashton continues to laugh.

“Can you shut up for just a second?” Delilah says, putting her hand over Ashton's mouth. Ashton mumbles something, but it's muffled.

We've finally made it outside to the car, and Delilah almost has to push Ashton into the car. He's so drunk he can barely get inside. He hits his head as he sits down in the back, and he collapses in the seat.

“Goodnight, Ashton,” Delilah says, shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

“Good morning,” Ashton mumbles. He says nothing else, I'm pretty sure he's passed out.

I stand outside the car and light a cigarette.

“You're kidding, right? You are not seriously a smoker,” Delilah says after she rolls down the window.

I shrug. I'm not really a smoker. I'm just so nervous right now, I need something to take my mind of the anxiety. It's just a little stress reliever. It's not like I'm addicted.

“I really hope it's just a metaphor,” she says, rolling up the window.

Does she think she's John Green? I almost choke on the smoke because of her remark.

I'm relieved to be out of the party, and my anxiety has finally decreased. I can breathe normally again, and my body has stopped shaking. I can relax now.

I get in the car once I'm done smoking, and Delilah starts the engine.

“I was thinking we could go get some food, then go home. Is that okay?” Delilah asks as she drives. “Only if you want to though. We don't have to.”

I think for a few seconds. I am hungry, but I don't really want to go. I'm exhausted too. But Delilah helped me out. But she's Delilah.

But I'm hungry.

I nod, and she smiles.

“Okay, there's a place around here that should be open,” she says. “I really am sorry about tonight.”

I'm not quite sure why I agreed to go out. If she had asked a few minutes ago, I would've said no. This is very unlike me.

We drive for a few more minutes before she pulls into a small diner. A red neon sign reads “Breakfast 24/7.” I text my dad to let him know I'll be home soon.

Wait, since when do I care about curfew? Or my dad?

We get out of the car, leaving Ashton inside. He's not even moving or making any noise. He won't be waking up for a long time.

Delilah and I sit at a table, and the waitress hands us a menu. I get pancakes, and Delilah gets waffles.

We both get chocolate milk.

We sit in silence the first few minutes. I feel like no one ever knows how to start a conversation with me, which is understandable. I'm me.

Delilah finally starts to speak. “So, uh, what grade are you in?”

I type something in my phone and press speak. “I dropped out.”

She scrunches her eyebrows and stirs the straw in her milk. “Oh. I'm a Junior.”

“What's a Junior?”

“Oh, right, Australia doesn't call it that. Um, what you call Year 11, I think.”

I nod. “I would've been in Year 11 this year.”

“Oh. When did you drop out?"

“This year. I was home schooled for a little, but it came to the point where I wasn't getting out of bed. Which I assume you know why.”

Her cheeks turn slightly red. “What?”

“I saw you looking at my folder.”

Her eyes widen, and she looks down. “I'm really sorry. I didn't, I was just... I'm sorry.”

“I shouldn't even be acknowledging your existence for being so snoopy.”

If I actually talked, she would be able to tell that I'm being sarcastic. I don't really care that she read my folder. The only thing in there is the information sheet that has the diagnosis. My diagnosis is pretty self explanatory anyways.

“I was just curious. I'm sorry,” she says quietly.

I start to type that I'm just kidding, but she talks again.

“It's just that... Well, when patients like you come in, I like to know why you're like that. My dad left when I was 5 years old, and he suffered from anger problems. No, that's the wrong way to put it. He didn't suffer, he was more, like, overtaken by it. It controlled what he could and couldn't do. Some things would make him so upset, and he'd have random outbursts. And I just want to know why he left, if that makes sense. And sometimes I think if I knew how other people with similar issues thought and acted, it'll bring me closer to solving why he left. Sometimes I feel like I caused his anger, and he left because of me. I feel like I was maybe a burden or something... Like, what if he hated me? And that's why he left... I don't know, it's stupid, I know... But...”

“It's not stupid.”

She looks up from the table, where her gaze was frozen. “It's not?”

I shake my head no.

“It makes perfect sense.”

“I shouldn't have even told you that. I'm sorry. You probably don't even care.”

“Please stop being sorry.”

“Sorry- oops.” She smiles a little and bites her bottom lip.

The food comes out, and we eat in silence. I think about what she told me about her dad. It was something deep and personal. And I feel like she deserves to know a little bit about me. Maybe it will give her hope about her dad.

Sometimes I forget that other people have problems too. I live in my own world and think that I'm the only one who suffers. But everyone has their own issues, no matter how big or small. We're all people that live different lives with different troubles. And sometimes I think I'm the only one. But I'm not. And it's comforting to think that Delilah will share one of her problems with me when she barely knows me. But maybe she only told me because I have no one to tell. Or maybe she's slightly drunk too.

Or maybe she just trusts me.

I didn't think anyone could ever trust me. I don't even trust me.

I put my fork down, and she looks up at me. I type quickly on my phone, and she looks confused.

“I don't know if this will help,” the robotic voice says, “but I've been like this for 6 months. My girlfriend died really unexpectedly. And it messed me up. It turned my life upside down. I stopped doing everything. My whole life spiraled downwards and just kept getting worse. And maybe your dad felt that way too, I don't really know. There's no way of knowing. It could've been anything, really. But I just thought I should tell you that.”

Delilah doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and she just looks at me.

“I'm sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Please do not be sorry.”

She rests her head on her hand. “You know, you're turning out to be different than what I thought,” she whispers.

“It's that stupid new pill. Making me all sentimental and shit.”

But it's not stupid. I like the way it's making me feel.

I'm starting not to feel so numb anymore.

I can actually feel a little again.

the laugh ashton did is like the one in that keek. i still laugh everytime omg

AND Y'ALL HATED DELILAH FOR BEING CURIOUS BUT SHE HAD A REASON

i picture delilah as maia mitchell by the way

and luke is so ghasjdhslf and changing in this chapter i debated whether or not i should make him like this but i felt it was necessary. is it ok? did you like it?

ily tweet me because i love what you have to say @fiannelash

sorry this is so long omg i just like to talk lol

-ashley