// C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N //

"Do you want me to take you home?" George asked as I went to the couch to grab my jacket.

I turned around, smiling politely, "no thank you, Matty said he'd take me." I put my jacket on and looked away quickly. I couldn't show him any sign of interest in that way. I had never felt so nervous around him until I'd gotten the idea that maybe he liked me.

I mean, why would he like me? I'm me...but also, I haven't ever had someone who liked me before. I didn't know how to take it. Or how to feel...and above all else what I did feel was conceited to think he liked me anyway. I grabbed my purse and swung it around me, walking past him.

He grabbed me by my arm gently, swing me around slightly. I looked up at him in surprise, what the hell is he doing?

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" I asked, looking around to make sure we were alone.

"Like...you don't want to be around me." He took a deep breath in, I looked at his chest, because looking him in the face made me nervous.

"I don't mean to, look, Matty's waiting for me in the car okay--"

"Talk to me." He still held onto my arm.

"George there's nothing to talk about, I'm sorry. I have to go." I started towards the door, freeing myself from his grip.

"Fine." He watched me.

The tone of his voice made me feel as if I'd hurt his feelings. I never could stand to know if I had done that to a person...affect their feelings in any type of way.

"You know," I turned around, "its not fair." I couldn't believe my courage.

He turned his head, looking at me.

"What?" He asked, appearing seriously stunned...but I didn't believe him, no way...he knew exactly what I meant.

"You know what I mean," I shook my head.

Matty honked from the driveway. I turned to the door, then back to George.

"No I don't." He protested.

"You invited me to some shit party and I spent the entire night with Matty." I whispered in the form of a shout.

"You chose to." He said, his jaw dropping slightly.

"No, I thought I'd be spending time with you and instead you were with some chick while you sent Matty off to pick me up." I looked at him in disgust, I couldn't stand that he was making me confess how he really hurt my feelings. I wasn't supposed to even have feelings, no one ever gave a damn about them. I already regretted speaking in the first place.I should've continued out the door, he was going to let me go.

He looked at me, guilty.

"I'm sorry." He said.

I sighed, blowing off all the emotions, "yeah well...you should be. Don't expect me to want to talk to you if I wasn't even worth the night to spend with."

"As if you were worth the night to Matty," He stood up, "he was only with you because he had no other choice."

I felt it in my heart, the words stung.

"I'm never coming back here again." I walked out the door and slammed it behind me. Passing up the car and storming down the sidewalk. Matty looked out of the window, confused.

He honked the horn, surely to get my attention. I crossed my arms and continued to make my way home and away from them. He pulled out of the driveway and followed me. I didn't dare look at the car. He drove slowly, unrolling the windows. I tried my hardest to walk faster than the car, but it didn't work.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked.

I ignored him.

"Alright, what have I done?" He asked.

I held back tears, only weak bitches cry. Fuck that.

I always felt like a guy when I wanted to cry. My friend and I back home always made jokes that maybe in my past life I was a really tough male or something...since I always felt less of a person if I let anyone see me cry...and I felt like it was a sign of weakness...I still would never forgive myself for crying in front of George the first day I'd met him.

"Katie, seriously." He said, I could hear the frustration creeping into his tone.

"I'll take myself home." I said, finally looking at him.

"But why? Did someone say something to you in there? What happened? What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked.

"Nothing okay, just go. I can find my way home okay." I tried my hardest to control my mouth as it formed down a frown. I hated it, I always felt like a crybaby when that happened.

"Can we just talk about it? I know its something."

"I just don't want a ride. I don't want to come back here again, and you guys don't have to see me anymore." I shrugged. He stopped the car and got out. I continued walking. Why is he so hard to get rid of?

He stepped out in front of me, "what the fuck are you talking about?"

I looked opposite of him, "can you move please?"

"Can you explain please?"

"None of you want to be around me okay, I know that. So just...stop acting like it." I said.

"What? Of course we do--"

"You don't! You only hung out with me at the party because you had to, you only invite me to watch you guys rehearse because you want another audience. Just stop..." I longed for the words to say next, "stop fucking around."

"Right like any of this is because I want another audience. Sure, I hung out with you at that party because I had to but after a while I wouldn't have rather been with anyone fucking else. I invite you here because I want to see you."

"Why?! I'm not anyone important, I'm boring. I'm eighteen years old I don't drink, or smoke, I lied about me smoking. I don't play music or even go to shows. You know what, all I do is stay home and write in a fucking journal okay, and read. I read. So stop acting like I'm someone you want to see." I pushed past him and continued walking.

"Fine, you know what, fuck it. You think nothing of yourself, so why should I think anything of you? Continue to find your way home and be bitter throughout the rest of your fucking life." He walked back to the car, getting in and slamming the door.

I stopped where I stood, watching him go.

Of course he would go. Everybody leaves. He drove off, passing up the house and heading to who knew where.

Then they came, the tears. I wanted to scream, I wanted to die. Every single time I let myself get comfortable with people, they left. It was my fault, I'd drive them away. I drove them all away. Which is why I never wanted to know people, or talk to people...ever, in my life.

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I shut the door quietly as I finally made it home after two hours of walking and winding up in areas I'd never even seen before. I didn't want to wake my dad, I didn't want to talk to him, I didn't want him to ask me where I'd been or why my eyes were probably bloodshot red from crying the entire way home, and even more each time I got lost. I locked up the doors, then ran up the stairs and into my bedroom.

I shut the door carefully, I hated the squeak...if I wouldn't wake dad up, that goddamn squeak in the door would. I sighed in relief as I got it shut without waking him.

I threw my purse on the floor in the corner, sniffing all the disgusting clots of snot in my nose back further where it came from. I took my jacket off, tossing it into the closet, not even bothering to hang it up. I went to the desk and grabbed my journal, ripping the stupid pages about Matty and George out. Just the way they'd be ripped out of my life.

I was senseless to even think I really had made new friends. Friends... something I'd never been able to attain. All except Ashley Aniston from back home. I missed her. I wished I could call her, or talk to her...but she was way across the world to Africa for her studies...she came from a wealthy family. She was originally from Bel-Air, Los Angeles. She could afford the travel and the studies...my family was more lower middle class, well, my mom I mean. My dad was another story.

I grabbed the papers torn out and crumbled them up, throwing them in the miniature trash bucket beside the desk. Then crawled into bed, neglecting pajamas. I was too physically weak to find them, or to put them on. What would I tell Elaine? Oh, I was happy and over my social anxiety and someone fucked it up again so now I'm a wreck and I'll be giving you more money!

I closed my eyes, maybe I'll lie and pretend to be fine.