“He knows.” I stare at my screen

“How could he know? He doesn’t know. You. Are. Paranoid.” Billie answers from the other side of the screen 

“I’m telling you Billie, he knows.” I start to walk around in my room. 

“There’s no way he knows.” 

“It’s the way he said it.” My hands start to flail around like a conspiracy theorist. “You just had to be there.” 

“Look, get some sleep, maybe drink some water. It sounds like you might need water. And we can talk about this tomorrow when you’re more sane. Goodnight. Love you.” Billie hangs up. 

“…love you. Bye.” I whisper to an empty screen. 

She’s right. I do need to sleep. It had been almost a week, and that brief interaction with Noah managed to keep me up for a couple of nights.  

I let my whole weight fall onto my bed. 

I stare at my ceiling 

And stare

And stare

And stare…

I start to think back to all the times I hung out with Noah and thought he might suspect I had feelings for him. 

Every time I flashed a smile, and stupidly batted my eyes. 

How I always seem to linger just a little longer before I would ultimately walk away... 

A lump starts to form in my throat.

And I can’t seem to help it. 

It starts to feel inevitable. 

I can feel how my whole world starts to collapse around me.

My eyes swell up. 

I can feel how my ears are filling up with liquid. 

I bury my face into my bed, as if I’m hiding from the world. 

My comforter started to feel wet from my tears, but I didn’t seem to care.

I stayed in my bed for a couple of days. 

I look around and see my entire closet on my floor. 

I actually can’t tell the difference between the floor and the bed. 

Empty plastic water bottles fill my nightstand.

Dirty plates and mugs replace my desk. 

My room looks like a landfill. And I suppose it smells like one too.

My phone is what got the worst treatment. I’m surprised the battery hasn’t exploded. 

I’m doom scrolling for hours. When I get bored of that, I play some comfort video games. Unfortunately, my phone doesn’t get a rest. 

I can’t seem to trust myself to not think about him, so I don’t let my mind free for a second. I need constant stimulation. While I play videogames, I also have a tv show or a YouTube video playing in the background. If I’m doom scrolling, I’m also listening to music or a podcast. 

I switch between the same three apps every couple of hours. 

My mom comes in occasionally to make sure I’m fine. And also to let some fresh air into my room. 

Even in my depressive episode, I try to stay active. I occasionally get out of bed and slide onto the floor, where I attempt to stretch out my sore muscles. 

I’m on the floor trying to relieve my back when I hear my laptop ringing. I make my way to my nightstand to see who's calling me.

It’s Gen.

Damn 

I know she's going to know something is wrong. Gen may be young, but she has grown to be very perceptive. 

I try my best to clean up my background. I drape a blanket over the mess of clothes on my bed, kick things out of the way, and attempt to hide the dirty dishes on my desk.

I answer the call just in time.

“Dude, what took you so long? I was beginning to think that you weren't going to answer.”

I sit and try not to look out of breath.

“I was…” I motion towards my background, “music was too loud, I almost didn't hear the ringing.” 

“Liar.” Gen starts, “I heard you saw Noah the other day.”

“I did… how did you hear about that?”

“He told me. You know, since you’ve been avoiding everyone lately.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone. I've just been… busy.” I lie

“With what? Being depressed?” It looks like Gen wants to start laughing, which for her, it’s pretty normal

“No?” I look around my desk and pick up a figurine, “would a depressed person make this?” I point the figurine towards the camera. She starts to laugh. 

“I was just calling to thank you for my graduation presents. I liked them a lot.”

“You are welcome. I’m glad you liked them. I was starting to get stressed out thinking you hated them.”

“Oh. no. no, I liked them. I’ve just been busy and I haven’t had the time to actually give my thanks to everyone.” Gen confesses

“It’s fine. I’m guessing you still haven’t found a job yet?”

“No, it’s been rough. Everyone is ‘hiring’ yet no one will call me back.” 

“I’m sorry. Well at least you’ll be unemployed with me." I try to sound cheerful to see if she will laugh at my joke. She doesn’t

“Too soon?” I ask

“Yea Logan! A bit too soon.” She starts to laugh. “Well, I have to go. My mom is coming home soon, and I still need to clean the house. I was just calling to see if you were okay.”

“I'm fine, bye Gen.”

“Logan?”

“Mhm”

“Do a better job of cleaning your depression hole. And be nice to your mom and leave the house. Bye!” Gen hangs up.

I look at my computer screen and then at my mirror. Gen was right, sort of. 

I needed to leave my house, but in my current state, I would scare people away. Whether it be because my appearance wasn’t the best, or because it’s been a week since I’ve showered. I couldn’t actually leave the house. 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I look at my dirty hair that I have braided to keep away from my face.

I notice that my face is dry from the lack of moisture in my room.

My eyes are red, and puffy from all the crying. 

My shirt is stained from food. 

One of the legs from my sweatpants is rolled up because of how hot it is in my room.

And I'm missing a sock.

I look like a wreck and feel like one too. 

I decided I needed a change of scenery.

I grab my towel and clean clothes. Even if my head and heart are a mess, it doesn't mean I have to look like one too. 

I shower, dry and style my hair. I change into clean clothes and attempt to clean my room.

Once I somewhat feel like my old self, I lay on bed that is now visible, and attempt to sleep.

My racing thoughts keep me up for a few hours. I grab my phone and play a youtube video to try to drown out the noise. I fell asleep in a matter of minutes. 

The next morning I fill my bag with my notebook, and other essentials.

“Mama, I’ll be back later. Around lunch time, I think.” I grabbed my car keys.

“Ok, mija. Wait." My mom sticks her head out of the kitchen, "¿Quién te dio permiso para salir? Where are you going?” My mom starts to question.

“Coffee shop.” I think about my last encounter with Noah, “Bookstore. I got work.” I point at my bag

“Ok, which one is it? Coffee shop or bookstore?” 

“Bookstore?”

“Were you asking or telling me?”

“Telling. Asking? Both really.” I walk towards my mom and give her a kiss on her forehead, “I’ll call you when I leave, just in case you need anything before I come home.”

“You’re not going to bother Mar at the coffee shop?”

“No. Especially not after what happened last time.”  I start to put on my shoes 

“Bueno, at least the poor girl can finally pay attention at work instead of talking to you. Por fin se está deshaciendo de ti, even if it is because of a boy.” My mom starts to walk into the kitchen, “Drive safely.”

“Pfft. Mar loves it when I stop by.” I open the door, “Adios.”