Going Down In History

I haven't moved for two days. As soon as we got back from having a good time at the fair, I went back to my position that I had held right before we left. I was laying on the couch, T.V. on and staring at my cell phone. All I could think was 'call, call', and for once. It worked.

"Hello?" I almost shouted this into the phone, I was excited. It was the most I'd heard from anybody for a long time. I heard a sigh at the end that made my stomach churn over.

"Hey, uh, Charlie?" He answered. I almost squealed at his voice. I was too excited that I could barely contain it. I sprang to my feet and started pacing around the room.

"Chris! Hi!" Okay, a little over the top, but I haven't talked to this man in almost a month. Give me a break. I was doing everything but jumping up and down, which right now, wasn't a bad idea. Instead, though, I took a deep breath to try to calm myself.

"Um, how have you been?" He sounded kind of sad but I was somehow reassured by it. Like because I wasn't around he was broken, upset and depressed. This made me feel horrible about myself.

"I've been fine," lie, " how have you been?" I bit my lip, awaiting his answer. I heard him sigh again and I could just picture him running a hand through his hair and down his face. Oh, how I missed his hair and his face.

"I've, uh, been, well, not so good actually." This broke my heart. I imagined him crushed, sitting on the foot of his our bed. Our bed. Our soft, soft, comfy, desirable bed.

"Are you okay?" That was a stupid question to ask, but I was too distracted by the feeling of the two of us, tangled and constricted in the sheets of our soft, soft bed.

"No, I'm really not. I miss you Charlie." I have been waiting for this to happen since I left. I was doing back flips in my mind. He missed me. "Come home please." His voice was a whisper and my mind fogged up. He sounded really upset about something.

"Chris, what's wrong?" I asked, my heart breaking with every word that came out of my mouth. I knew it wasn't something wrong with us, but something else. Something more troubling and disturbing.

"I-" he choked, "I- they, they fired me." I could imagine him with his face in his hands, sobbing. It was all my fault. I collapsed to the floor in a heap, thinking of what to say to comfort him, but nothing was coming to my mind.

"I'm sorry. Did they say why?" This was a stupid question. I knew why, he knew why, everybody in the entire western side of the United States knew why. Usually he was really modest about bringing the subject up.

"They said something about student complaints. But you and I both know why it really is." So much for being modest. I sighed into the phone and gripped the carpet that I was sitting on.

"What are you going to do?" I said quietly into the phone. I didn't realize that my voice was becoming soft. I found a spot on the carpet and picked at it, pulling out the strands and entwining my fingers through them.

"Can we talk about it when you come home?" I nodded and then figured he couldn't see me nodding, but I'm pretty sure he knew anyway.

"Yeah, I'll be home later tonight." I smiled softly. I wanted him to feel better, I wanted his job back and I wanted everything to be alright. I guess this was the cost of dating and falling in love with your teacher.

"I love you. See you tonight." My smile grew bigger at his words.

"I love you too." I hung up the phone, stood up and turned to go pack, only to face Joey, leaning against the doorway in a tight T-shirt and jeans. The expression on his face looked hurt and misunderstanding. I saw him bite his lip before he spoke.

"You're leaving?" All I could do was nod my head. I couldn't look him in the eyes, I just knew they were full of the look of betrayal and hurt. I was chickenshit.

"Yeah, I, um, I-we-" I just nodded again and pushed passed him to get my things ready to leave. He followed me and leaned on my door frame.

"Charlie, you can't leave." I didn't listen as I pulled my duffel bag onto my bed and started shoving clothing into it. "Charlie, please, just listen to me." I felt his hand on my forearm turning me around slowly to face him.

"Why? Why can't I leave?" I spat and wretched my arm away from him. He had an indecisive look on his face, like he was battling against saying something.

"Because." He spoke softly, looking down towards his feet and biting his lip. He looked back up at me with a much different look in his eye. "Because, I'm in love with you."