September 9th, 2012

The hallway smelt of excessive bug spray and cleaning products. With 70s flowery wallpaper peeling from the ceiling down and eroding carpets, Louis wasn't sure he had followed his mother's directions correctly. He looked side to side, attempting to follow the door numbers in the dim, flickering lights. He heard from his new neighbours that she had moved -- but he didn't know what the circumstances were nor why her family would live here of all places. The cracks and scratches on the door frames seemed to be from rodents, dogs, or perhaps something more sinister and he didn't want to think about it.

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He stood in front of the dark wood door staring at the peculiar scratches on the frame and by the handle; debating or not if he should knock. Louis knew she would be up - she had classes in an hour, but the thought of pending humiliation was stopping him.
With a tea in one hand and a breakfast bag in the other, he talked himself into visiting her after the ordeal. He didn't know if she was going to give him another chance or if she was going to slam the door in his face -- regardless of which, he still wanted to try. Every time he tried to talk himself out of rekindling their friendship, he reminded himself of the measures she took for him by going to Simon and talking to his management. At the time, however, he was so caught up in himself that he did what he knew would work.

Louis knew what he did was a bit extreme; he knew it was wrong. He didn't know how to approach the problem first hand. With slippery fingers and a heavy heart, he reacted poorly and childishly - throwing a tantrum when he didn't get his way. He intially didn't feel guilty until he got home that night. He struggled to sleep - the defeated face of Rosie imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

He balanced the food bag on his arm and knocked on the door quietly. He paused, ultimately coming to the realization that he actually knocked and was struck with immediate regret as he slowly grabbed the bag in a sleepy daze. He swallowed his saliva and stared down at his shoes, breathing slowly. Louis listened to the rustles of the apartment as his mind went into turbo mode before the silence overtook the noise. Multiple locks began clicking before a beckon of light eloped the corridor.

"Lou Lou?" A woman with a heavy Scottish accent smiled as Louis' eyes adjusted to the light. "Is that you?"

"Kat?" He smiled, finally looking at her with a breath of relief. The light behind her made her look heavenly -- out of place. Her smile was as bright as her flaming red hair. Rosie's mother was vibrant in both her appearance and her personality. She was bubbly and joyful - with freckled cheeks that Rosie inherited and big blue eyes; she was a sight for sore eyes.

"Give us a cuddle!" She laughed, pulling him into her arms, skillfully avoiding the drinks. He smiled, genuinely glad to see her. "Oh come in, come in. Ah, is that for me?" She grinned, moving away from the door, eyeing the things in his hands.

He took in the apartment, crammed with unpacked boxes and a small couch. Louis slowly walked in, wiping his feet on the doormat before looking closely at the living space. The first thing he noticed was the wall of pictures they had that sat adjacent to the balcony door. It was apparent to him that it was there to cover up something. He continued looking around, soaking in the crooked picture frames and plastic colourful flowers that sat planted in the cracks on the wall. As shabby as it was, he felt safe for the first time in an hour. It was nothing like their old place that stood proud with a grand staircase and matching furniture, but it represented who he knew them to be so well that it was fitting.

"I'm only joking, love. I suppose you're here for Rosie?" She asked watching him. "How stupid of me," she said palming her forehead, "of course you are! I sure do hope you drove here, it's not safe out there. Plus, I really don't trust that thing Rosie drives. It's American you know, a Ford. The steering wheel is on the left side! Super weird. You can never trust an American car, those things break down like it's no tomorrow. God forbid something ever happens to that girl. She always gets herself in trouble. You know first hand that Rosie has this weird fascination with all things American. I don't know why. They're quite the bunch, aren't they -- Americans. You know, a family from -- Bonnie!" Katerina's rambling was stopped in its tracks by Rosie's younger sister, Bonnie, entering the room. Her features matched her mother's, down to the freckle but her stature was different. Her frame was smaller and more timid: her shoulders were slightly hunched in and her head was bowed. "My favourite, come sit." She patiently waited for the young girl to enter the room before she spoke again. "Bon Bon, Louis is here!" Katerina said excitedly. She lifted her head and gave him a look of acknowlegdement before preceeding to the kitchen table. Katerina looked at her then to Louis, shooting him an apologic look. "Sorry about that. It was a rough morning for all of us."

Louis nodded, understanding what she meant. He remembered when he was younger, sitting next to Rosie parallel to Kat and Rosie's father, being told that Bonnie was different. They explained that the wires in her brain were circuited differently than his; that although she may look and speak normally, she was going to need extra support. They took turns explaining what it meant to be autistic, before disclosing that they didn't know much about it themselves. They made sure to make it a point that she may have bad days, but she is family so she should be treated as such. They asked them to be patient, to be cautious but most of all, to love her like they would Louis' sisters.

Bonnie was one of the luckier ones who can function without constant assistance. Although she was classed as high functioning, her 'bad days' as the Smiths called it included severe meltdowns and headaches. Louis didn't consider that when he came over. He didn't want to upset her but he knew that she needed normalcy.

He walked over to her and kissed the crown of her head like he did growing up. She looked up at him confused but he retorted with a smile. "Heya Bon. Haven't seen you in a while. I've missed you, love."

He sat across from her on the wooden chair, laying down the food and the tea on the table. She looked at him like he shouldn't be there then her gaze met with the bag. "Is that for me?" Bonnie said eyeing it.

He grinned automatically; he recalled Kat saying the same thing when he walked in. "It's actually for Rosie. I'm going to drive her to school."

"Aren't you too famous for that now?" Bonnie asked bluntly. She tilted her head slightly upwards, looking at him with her big brown eyes.

Louis looked down at the table, faltering momentarily. He stuttered out a no, seemingly unprepared. He attempted to make a joke out of it, saying that school was school and that he was always a popular one despite his fame.

"You're quite big now, though," Bonnie interrupted, leaning slightly back in her chair challengingly, "astronomically."

Louis paused, not understanding where this is coming from. He immediately went to the conclusion that Rosie had spoken to her and then suddenly, he was uncomfortable. He hesitantly agreed.

"It's gone to your head."

He tried to intersect, attempting to find a response but he cut himself off. He stared at her, unaware of her mother staring at the interaction. He felt so catastrophically stuck that he couldn't physically move.

"Funny," Bonnie said, raising an eyebrow. Her thin lips were set in a straight line as her arms crossed, "you look so small."

Louis felt his back tense up more than it already was. He felt vulnerable and hot despite the coldness of her words. He looked down in shame. He wanted to get up and walk away like every other time someone has pointed out his insecurities. He wanted to yell and stir up a fight and walk out. But she was family. He stayed seated, wondering where Rosie was. Louis pulled out his phone, checking the time. 7:12. He looked at Kat, debating if he should ask her to get Rosie for him.

"Where's Rosie's room?" He asked instead, feeling like it's a better idea than making her mother do it.

"Straight down the hall," she directed. "Watch for Meredith."

He stood up and dismissed himself, wishing Bonnie a good day at school more passive aggressively than he wanted to. After picking up his things for her, he walked down the crooked corridor. He saw the dark vibrant paint contrast with the black and white photos on the wall and smiled. He took a moment to stare and reminisced on the memories that hung on poorly kept picture frames; smiles and candids of Rosie and her family stayed frozen. It was a short hall of photos but it was quaint and distracted him from Bonnie's words and the state of the flat.

Louis was struck with the anxiety of knocking on her door came back despite him already being in her house. It seemed like an invasion of privacy to step foot in her room when he barely knows her anymore. He breathed in slowly through his nose, preparing himself for her to inevitably decline his offer. He knocked quietly and said her name. He waited a few moments before repeating his steps louder. Louis' eyes stayed to the bottom of the door for no real reason. He faced her mother and sister: he was capable of facing her, he just felt more vulnerable then ever.

The door creaked open slightly forcing his gaze to look up. "Louis?" Rosie questioned. Their eyes made contact despite the door being opened so slight. Her blue eyes were rimmed in black messily. He didn't understand why. "What are you doing here? It's a bad time. I'm busy," she looked down at the food, "is that for me?"

He lifted up her breakfast and tea with a smile forgetting about his anxiety. "Just thought you would want some food and a drive. That's all."

His nervous smile persuaded her even though her face was defensive. She opened the door enough to grab the tea from his hand, then closed it on him. "Are you gonna let me in?"

"I'm not ready." Rosie said through the door. "It's early. You should go home and sleep."

"I want to drive you to school. Please, just let me in."

The door creaked open once more but this time there was no face peering in the crack. Louis opened the door more testing Rosie's limit. He was met with a dull yellow light from the ceiling and a pile of clothes in front of the door. "Mind the mess, I can't find the shirt I want."

He couldn't see her as she hid behind the door. As he examined her room, she sped off towards the bed, crouching under the duvet to look under bed. He didn't know how they managed to fit three beds in a small room but they did: with a bunk bed to one side and a single bed on the other, he was surprised to learn that all three of them shared a room.

He admired the pre-signed poster of his band that hung crooked on the wall. Perhaps she did support him on X Factor despite the way he treated their friendship. His eyes then landed on her cat that laid in the centre of a bed, sleeping soundly in a ball.

Rosie shot up, with a big huff. She turned her back to him as she talked to herself. His eyes caught a glints of her small frame at the sudden noise but was met with her topless. He couldn't help noticing the lilac purple bands of her bra on her bare back. He noticed some freckles that had overlapped and the smooth curve of her spine. He noticed the bit of fat that hung slightly over her black high waisted jeans. He noticed the forgotten piece of hair that curled down her neck and onto her spine. He noticed the way her shoulder blades moved and the red indents that her straps left on her shoulders. He noticed it all.

Despite his uncomfortable glances, Louis walked in. His eyes moved to the floor, not wanting to look at her half nude anymore than he already has. He had seen breasts before, many boobs. All shapes and sizes. But he never thought he'd come close to Rosie's. He forgot she even had any. He obviously knew she had breasts, but this was... different. Louis attempted to get his mind off of what he just saw by looking around. He smoke with a dry throat. "When will you be ready?"

Rosie laughed, "Calm down, I think I know where it is." He looked up at her, then to the ceiling avoiding her gaze, not understanding why she was laughing. He was terrified. "You haven't seen anything, Louis. Stop being dramatic."

"I'm not--" he paused, "I didn't mean--"

"I've never seen someone recoil that fast." She turned her back on him but he could hear her smirk. "What was this about driving me to school?"

Louis cleared his throat and looked back at the floor, coming back to reality. He took a moment before speaking, tripping over his own tongue. "I just um," he stuttered, "I just thought you'd like a lift."

"It's safe now." Rosie chuckled. He continued staring at the floor, shaking his head. "Jesus Louis." She walked over to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. "Look, I'm wearing a shirt," she fake gasped looking at her lavender short sleeve blouse. He looked down instinctively, following the necklace that hung just before the valley of her breasts to the first two buttons of her shirt. He looked up as fast as he could. "Are you still up for driving me or are you still thinking about my bra colour?"

oOo
The drive to Rosie's college was quiet despite the radio being on. He wanted to lighten the mood but he was nervous he'd say the wrong thing. She had effortlessly explained to him that she took a semester off to work. She was always smarter than him in almost every sense of the word, and to think that she stayed back because of money problems upset him. He thought of their history and how he was always told to be there for her -- to her father, her mother, his parents and himself. But he let her down without the slightest regret.

A nauseating sense of guilt wash over him remembering how much she loved school. He pictured her alone, staring blankly into space in the headmaster's office, needing someone there for her as she gave in her form. He pictured her working tirelessly to support her and her family on a low wage income as she watched him with hatred in her heart live out their dream with wild recklessness. He didn't regret leaving -- just how naive he was. So naturally, he did his best to joke about it.

"You know," he started with a nervous laugh not looking at her, "I've been doing pretty well, don't you think?"

He glanced over at Rosie who scrunched her nose before smirking. "From last week to now? You kinda seem like a fake ass bitch to me," she contemplated in a slightly playful tone, "if I'm being honest."

He smiled genuinely. "A fake ass bitch?"

"A fake ass bitch," she repeated.

Louis laughed, appreciating her lighthearted tease. She talked to him nonchalantly, bringing up what happened the previous Friday, how she expected him to pay Marty back for the damages and that she was wrong for expecting too much too fast. She explained that it was too busy that day to do the job she wanted him to do so she stuck him in the kitchen in hopes that he would still learn the type of work ethic she was aiming for. She then apologized for her slip up but Louis thought it to be more of a non-apology. Rosie proposed a new start: another task that could easily be done if he wasn't busy -- spending a day at school.

He reluctantly agreed, swallowing harshly. A vivid image of students with their phones flashed before him. He thought of how they would look at him -- of how they would look at Rosie. Louis tried to backpedal his agreement but made the mistake at glancing over at Rosie who was smiling to herself out the window. He did his best to change the subject, neglecting the nerves that tingled under his skin.

They arrived at her school with kids pouring into the double doors of the foyer. Rosie hopped out of the car, grabbing her bag from the back seat. Louis however sat in his car, like he didn't know how to move into the light. His hands stayed stoic on the steering wheel, staring dead ahead doing his best to talk himself into getting out of the car. He jumped with a knock on his window, seeing Rosie nod for him to get out.

He took a breath and turned off the engine, grabbing his wallet and a half smoked fag from the centre compartment and his keys. As he opened the door and took a step out, his focus went to Rosie, already walking towards the front doors on her phone. Because of this, Louis missed the step from the car to the ground, resulting in him falling face first onto the pavement. Luckily, he taught himself. Unluckily, everyone saw.

He heard the snickers and whispers of students in the car park passing by. He stood up like nothing happened, ignoring the sting of the scraps on the palms of his hands. Rosie walked back to him laughing, to ask if he was okay.

"I'm fine," he spat angrily. He wanted to get back in his car and drive off. His anger slightly subsided when Rosie light put her hand on his forearm.

"Are you hurt or anything?" She said hiding her smile, looking for any indication of physical harm.

He shrugged her off aggressively, not wanting to be touched. "I'm fine." He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and wiped his dirty hands on his pants, examining them for any scratches. Louis took a deep breath, trying his best not seem agitated, but he couldn't help it.

His mood flipped the second he stepped foot into the building; his demeanour changed to how he was trained -- professional and distant. He ignored the obvious glances and whispers and kept his chin up. Louis didn't look at Rosie but he was too beside himself to realize that she mirrored him. Little did he know that after years of being held back, she had forgotten how to stop distancing herself. She had a look in her eyes that made the rest of them want to run so they all stayed clear of her. The pair walked without talking, without looking at each other, without a single thought about each other. They walked together, in their own anxieties and in their own egos.

Louis calmed himself down about an hour into the day, noticing that students were solely focused on the teacher and not him. He would calmly glance over at Rosie, leaning back in her chair with her pencil in between her index and middle fingers. He always found it strange how she wrote like that. For the rest of that class he would have moments when stared at her, noticing the new and the recognizable. She didn't seem as approachable as she once did -- nor did she smile as often. He remembered her being lively that it took him leaving to realize she changed just as much as he did.

He also took time to relish in the fact that he no longer had to endure school anymore. Listening to her lectures reminded him of all the times he didn't understand course content and got called out publicly for it. He remembered all of the trips to the headmaster's office for talking back and fooling off. He remembered how stupid school made him feel and how relieved he was when it was all over.

Rosie didn't talk to him until her lunch period. She sat down at a lunch table with an apple and her notebook and waited for him to be seated. He was apprehensive at first but sat parallel to her, placing his phone from his back pocket face down on the table. "I have all boring classes in the morning," she spoke, "not that my afternoon classes are any better."

He nodded, observing the way she acted. He found it odd that she didn't sit with anyone or talk to anyone during the day. Louis was hoping it was for his benefit but his gut instinct was telling him otherwise. He had been observing her all day, pointing out silently her differing behaviour and mannerisms. It had been helping him keep his mind off of the impending thought of his ignorance, exposure to social media that he's going to have to endure and the media coverage that is going to be picked up from that. He knew she knew he had been watching her but she stayed silent, accepting the attention.

Rosie opened her notebook and began to review her notes, taking a bite out of her apple. He tried to think of something to say but he came up short: he felt out of place to ask her why she had changed. He wanted to switch the attention off of her to him, but he had the nagging feeling of coming off as narcissistic to do so. He was stuck in an endless loop of silence.
It wasn't until a girl approached the pair did Rosie look up. The girl smiled, introducing herself to Louis and asking him for a picture. He glanced over at Rosie who quickly looked back at her notebook with an annoyed look on her face. Louis accepted regardless, happy to do something that wasn't in complete silence. He did it quickly and quietly, making small talk with the girl. She had asked him what he was doing at their college and the only response he had was the head nod to Rosie. He didn't really know why she would drag him to her school, especially if she hadn't talked to him all day.

Louis asked Rosie plainly after the girl had left on why attending school was on the list. She didn't make eye contact as she explained that it was more about him understanding than what seemed obvious. She explicitly said that she thought he was under the impression that he knew everything so what better place to learn that he wasn't than school.

Louis became frustrated at her answer. He never thought of himself to know everything. He felt as though she was accusing him of characteristics that she herself didn't understand. He thought of her as foolish, knowing that he had a rough time at school and to drag him back with even more pressure than he once had. He thought of her as ignorant thinking that spending a day not doing anything but being bored and stared at was the equivalent of learning a lesson that he didn't need. He thought of her as naive to think that this would solve any problem he has with self control.

"Louis," she started finally looking at him, "I have my reasons for everything. You just have to trust me."

"Is your reason to embarrass me for the fuck of it?" He spat. "Cause it looks to me that you didn't quite think this through."

She furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding his accusation. She looked passed him for a moment before she made eye contact. "Lou," she said softly. She hadn't called him by his nickname since he returned. "You're not here as a reminder of what can go wrong, you're here to remember what could go right. You finished school. You have a career. You have people who support you. Coming back here wasn't be attempting to be a dick -- I'm sorry if it came off that way. I wanted you to come back to get a feel of a type of learning that was recognizable to you."

She told him that learning doesn't necessarily equate to school work but it was to show him a side that is easy to understand. She wanted him to remember the obstacles he had to go through, from getting in trouble to graduating, in order to show a parallel between then and now.

Louis looked down at the table, too stubborn to apologize for his outburst. He didn't fully understand the parallel, and he was still upset that she was using his past against him, but the way she spoke to him eased his nerves. She spoke so fluidly and kindly that he accepted her answer. He changed the subject, grabbing her notebook to test her on her class notes. Internally he wanted to ask her an assortment of questions on the tasks and who she had become but he reframed.

They spoke until her next class came. They didn't talk about the list nor themselves but memories they once shared in the hallways of their secondary school. When the time came, he decided to pay attention to the lecture rather than Rosie. He didn't understand much nor learn anything new but he attempted to look at learning in a different mindset than his years in school. It was easy for him to change, knowing that it's only temporary. Nonetheless, he did his best to continue his previous behaviour.

As the day came to a close, Louis was relieved that it was over. He wanted to go home and nap, alluding to the times that he nearly fell asleep in class. Rosie disappeared to change into her work uniform as he started his car up. He didn't know how she managed to do a full day of school and a shift at work when he was already this tired.

When they set off to the diner, he noticed her grin for the first time all day. "Lou?" He hummed in response. She waited for him to look over at her before speaking: "you just finished your first task."

He smiled to himself as he drove her to work. The hum of Rosie's voice echoing the radio as she played on her phone reminded him of being young again. He felt accomplished despite the fact he barely did anything. He asked Rosie if he could finish his previous task that he had failed. She told him that he was going to be too tired for her shift and that he should go home. But he insisted, saying that he wanted to, joking that he was on a roll.

When they arrived at the diner, Louis profusely apologized to Marty, offering to write a cheque to compensate for the plates he broke. Marty looked over his shoulder to Rosie. He was annoyed seeing the pop star again but accepted the money. When Rosie mentioned that Louis was going to work with her he recoiled his acceptance. He gave her a stern look and asked her to talk to her in the back. Louis watched as she smiled, charismatic and devious, telling the closest staff worker to give Louis an extra uniform.

She was back in a matter of minutes with her boss following behind her. It was a theatrical experience watching them bicker but Louis didn't mind. He was too caught up in himself to take notice. He sat at an empty table, looking at himself in his sleeping iPhone. He smelt like old rum and grease but he thought he looked good in a waiters uniform.

Marty slumped in a chair opposite to him with Rosie standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders. He was agitated but Rosie kept him calm with a light and brief shoulder massage.

"Listen, kid." Marty shook off Rosie who stood off to the side with her hands neatly in front of her and a small smile playing on her lips. "Work isn't about just showing up, it's about so much more than that. I'm not your daddy -- you're gonna make your own decisions here. You have to decide that you want to get better and you want to learn." Louis nodded like he was listening intently. He didn't really care. He just wanted to know what he was doing. Marty continued talking to him like a disgruntled father before sending him off to follow Rosie.

He struggled but Rosie knew he was trying his best. He put in the extra work and was friendly. He complained about the tiredness but showed Rosie with an obnoxious smile that he was capable and willing. She didn't know if he was learning anything but she admired the effort.

She had never seen him work this hard a day in her life but she was still apprehensive of intention. Was he getting on her good side or doing this to get better? She sent him home after her first shift, handing him his jacket and watch that he left in the back room. She was nosey and didn't trust his good behaviour so she snooped through his pockets without him knowing. Taking a few grams of weed from a secret pocket and a half smoked cigarette from another, she gave him a wave goodbye with a fake smile, knowing full well she got her answer.

Notes