A little while later my phone begins to ring and I check it to find Nat's name glowing from the screen. I throw it near the end of my bed and curl up into a ball as I stare at the wall across from me. However, my brain now begins to race, making it impossible for me to fall asleep once more.
                          
My phone begins to ring again.
                          
Then it rings again.
                          
And once more.
                          
I groan as I sit up and grab it, wanting nothing more than to chuck it against my closet door. But I don't. Instead, I find myself pressing the answer button, finally ending the silence between me and the outside world.
                          
"Hello?" I say, the word coming out a little harsh.
                          
"Oh, wow. You're actually alive," Nat says.
                          
I sigh. "Did you need something?"
                          
"Well, I was actually just wondering where the hell my best friend has been. She has managed to miss multiple rehearsals and now a day of class. Both of those things are very unlike her, so I want to make sure she didn't get kidnapped or possessed by the devil."
                          
I grow silent for a moment, closing my eyes as I take a deep breath.
                          
"Your best friend is fine. She's just sick and bedridden," I claim.
                          
Nat scoffs. "Bedridden...right. So would this be physically or mentally sick? Because I've never known a flu to last nearly a week."
                          
"Nat, I really don't want to talk about this right now," I say, ready to hang up on her.
                          
"Then when are you going to want to talk about it, Olivia? When are you going to want to talk about any of this?" Nat says, her patience obviously wearing thin.
                          
However, I can tell by her tone that when she says "any of this" that she's talking about a much bigger picture.
                          
"I'm not sure," my voice grows quiet now.
                          
Nat lets out a slow sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I just can't keep sitting back and watching all of this, knowing fully well that you're completely miserable. I know that what Liam did to you hurts, but you locking yourself up in your room and completely disappearing isn't going to solve anything."
                          
"At least I don't have to see him," I try.
                          
"Which "him" are you referring to? Styles or Liam?"
                          
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as Nat's words hang in the air between us.
                          
"I'm not blind, Olivia. I can read the signs here and know that there is something going on between you and Styles, whether you want to admit it or not," she says.
                          
"I've been around long enough that I know what it looks like when someone fancies Harry Styles, especially because I've been there myself."
                          
"What?" I breathe out the word. "You and Styles?"
                          
"Nothing happened," she answers me quickly. "He never even thought about it, but he knows that my feelings for him surpass the limits of friendship...while I know that his do not."
                          
Suddenly I feel like apologizing to her. To console her through her own boy troubles. However, I can tell that I'm already a little late for that as this seems like something that has been occurring for awhile now.
                          
Plus, there's the selfish part of me that feels relieved. Relieved that Nat and Styles never worked out because I don't know where we would all be if they had.
                          
"I always thought I would be the girl he would run back to, you know?" she continues. "The one who, at the end of the day, Styles would settle down for and be ready to start something real with. Maybe I just made it all up in my mind, but I thought there was a possibility that it could happen."
                          
"I'm sorry, Nat," I finally say, noting the slight sadness in her voice.
                          
"I'm not telling you this so you can feel sorry for me," she says.
                          
"Then why are you telling me this?" I ask slowly, confusion resting on my brow.
                          
"I'm telling you this because I wasn't the girl who finally managed to tame Harry Styles...but you are."
                          
I swallow hard as her words feel as though they're stabbing into my chest.
                          
"Maybe you're scared, but so is he," she tells me. "Styles can be angry and sometimes even insufferable, but underneath all of that, he's a great person. He's someone who I know can love another person with everything he has, but he has been too scared to let someone in. Because he lost his mum...and everything that happened with his dad."
                          
I nod, even though she can't see me, replaying his words in my head that he shared about his parents. About the universe taking so much.
                          
"But I know that you've been through a lot too. Even if you haven't told me everything...I can still see it in your eyes. Or the way you never let Styles walk all over you. And that's when I knew you were both in trouble."
                          
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice sounding hoarse.
                          
"There was just something about the way you two were when you were...'together.' I don't know if I can even explain it, but something tells me that I don't really have to. I think that you already know. Know more than I do, obviously. And if you don't then you better stop being so blind and look inside that heart of yours."
                          
Her last words almost make me want to laugh, but I can't. My head feels too heavy and my throat feels too dry.
                          
"I'm sorry. I know I'm saying a lot and maybe you're mad at me, but I just wanted to try and help. I can tell that you're miserable and believe me when I say that Styles is too," she says.
                          
Images of Styles suddenly fill my head as I picture him going through life without me. I hadn't thought he would be sulking or completely lost without me, but it had crossed my mind that he might not be his usual charming and cocky self. It's a form of Styles that I had thought I hated initially, but now I know that's just part of his mask. A mask that he tried to wear in front of me for months until we both slowly pulled it off together.
                          
"I don't know what to do," I tell Nat.
                          
"I think you do," she says finally. "But you'll do the right thing when the time is also right."