Status: Finished.
Your Melody Sounds As Sweet As the First Time It Was Sung
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brendon.
The first thing I heard that morning was the incessant, irritating beeping of the goddamn watch on my wrist. My first instinct was to rip if off and slam in repeatedly against the wall of my bunk until it dropped limp and silent, but I prevented myself from doing so remembering that it was much more expensive than the tawdry waterproof ones that had met that fate during my adolescence. Instead, I groggily sat up and fiddled with the tiny silver knobs to stop the sound. My emotions were a mix of swift gratitude that I was short enough not to have whacked my head on the roof of my bunk, frustration at the complicated time-telling device, and vague amusement at the predictability of such a practical gift from Ryan a year before. And with that last thought, it hit me. Ryan had given me the watch exactly a year before.
It was my twenty-second birthday.
I pulled myself out of my bunk, wrapping myself tightly in a blanket and trudging to the lounge to get myself a glass of orange juice. No one else was up yet, and regardless of the fuss before I hadn’t actually checked my watch. I groaned as the minute hand just ticked onto the tiny VII symbol, and threw myself down onto the couch. I wasn’t sleepy, which meant my mind was left to wander.
It was my birthday. Thinking of that inevitably led to thinking of Charlie and the stupid, frustrating annual interrogation that I used to burden her with on my birthdays. What the hell was wrong with me? I could see that it was tearing her apart inside. Why would I still ask her, just to soothe my own curiosity? What a selfish, immature brat I had been. What on earth had she ever seen in me? She hadn’t been there for my last few birthdays. None of them had felt the same without her, but at least she’d been free of my mean question.
So what now? I hated myself for doing that to her before, but was I supposed to ask her this year? Did she expect me to? Would failing to ask it acknowledge that our friendship had changed? Would asking it break our friendship?
I fetched myself an aspirin and rubbed my eyes before dry swallowing it, wincing as it lodged itself in my throat.
“Happy birthday, Bren!” Jon grinned, emerging in his pajamas from the bunk area.
“Thanks man,” I smiled.
“You want some coffee?” he asked. “Wouldn’t have expected you to be up this early.”
“Neither would I,” I chuckled. “Couldn’t get back to sleep I guess.”
Jon nodded, busying himself with the coffee plunger and china mugs. He’s the only one I’d trust to make my coffee. Having a barista in the bus was one of the most ingenious decisions anyone had ever made. Ten minutes later, he joined me on the couch and handed me a steaming cup emanating a delicious aroma. I grinned lazily in appreciation and began to thank him before he surprised me by plopping a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream on my lap. My eyebrows shot up.
“It’s your birthday, and I’ll admit I forgot to get you a present,” he shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I’m just gonna be really nice to you today.”
I chuckled, tossing one of the ruby red fruits into my mouth.
“Thanks heaps, Jon.”
“Sorry for…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I interrupted. “Seriously. No problem.”
We smiled at each other in understanding, and settled into a comfortable silence. Jon was one of the only people I could be around like this; quiet and serene. He knew when I didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to be questioned, and he obeyed my silent wishes. He really was a great guy.
I glanced out the window of the bus and saw a smiling figure jam a black beanie over her messy red hair. My lips involuntarily curled upwards, but the sneaky smile vanished as another well-built figure hugged her waist and pulled her in to his chest. I refused to acknowledge the painstakingly obvious. I refused to acknowledge jealousy. That would be ridiculous. This was Charlie we were talking about. My Charlie. My best friend. Mine. Not his.
I gulped down my hit of caffeine and thanked Jon again before heading off to get ready for the day ahead.
***
“Brendon!”
I spun around and grinned like an idiot as Charlie launched herself into my arms, wrapping hers around me as tightly as she possibly could until I felt almost winded. She’d already hugged me several times today, but not when she was quite that intoxicated. She wasn’t drunk, but definitely a little tipsy.
“Hey babe,” I beamed, thankful for the fact that Sebastian wasn’t hanging around. “You wanna dance?”
We’d played our show for the night, receiving a great uproar from the crowd wishing me happy birthday. It was uplifting, really. After the show, which I truly tried to pour my soul into, the bands had retired to a cozy little club, more like a bar with dancing, really, and proceeded with enjoyable, alcohol-fueled birthday celebrations. It was all lovely, and I really was having a good time, but there was a part of me that really just wanted to be hanging out with Charlie, and Charlie only.
“I’m kind of tired, why don’t we go outside and get some fresh air?”
Sometimes, I really thought she could read my wishes.
“Sure.”
She grabbed my hand and we weaved our way through our friends and random well-wishers to the door. Breaking through, we gulped in the semi-fresh air that was untainted with the scent of liquor. We walked down the street a bit until we reached a vacant bench; a bus stop, judging by the yellow sign adorning the pole beside it. She took a seat first, and I accidentally stared at her for a second or so before sitting beside her.
“It’s a beautiful night,” she commented, looking up at the wide expanse of sparkle-dotted midnight blue that was the sky. It wasn’t like Vegas or Chicago or LA out here. You could actually see the stars, and smell the grass. Not that it was completely free of pollution, it was a city after all, but there was an unmistakable difference.
“It is,” I agreed, turning from the sky to her as my pulse fell into a lazy beat.
“Happy birthday Brendon,” she smiled.
“Thanks Char. I’ll admit, it feels really good to be celebrating it with you again.”
She gulped and looked down, and I immediately backtracked. It was some sort of unspoken rule that we didn’t discuss our years apart. We just moved forward.
“No… Don’t feel bad about it. In a way it makes this better than any other birthday I’ve ever had.”
She looked back to me with a watery smile, her unshed tears shining over her eyes. She wouldn’t admit it, but I could tell that my comment had made all the difference in the world to her.
“Even better than Hawaii?” she joked with a small hiccup.
“Even better than Hawaii,” I repeated with a grin.
I don’t know how long we sat there together, gazing at the stars. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Either way, my mind danced around with thoughts of the wonderful girl beside me. Memories, thoughts of now, and even glimpses of futures that I couldn’t completely comprehend, futures that I tried not to understand. Futures that I shouldn’t be thinking of or wishing for.
And then there it was. The question, building up inside me. It was racing towards my lips, regardless of all the warning signs, regardless of how I’d hated myself over it this morning, regardless of how much I didn’t want the conversation to turn this way. Not for me, but I was concerned for her. If I asked this, who knew what could happen. And perhaps it was the curiosity that eventually forced the words through my mouth.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“I hate to do this, I really do…”
“Go on…” she prompted, as if she knew.
“Are you still in love with me?”
I analyzed her reaction. The way her head dropped the tiniest bit, but she didn’t seem at all surprised or distraught by the question. That was a good sign, right? In fact, she almost seemed… relieved? Happy? A glimmer of a smile was flickering on her painted lips. She softly bit her bottom lip as her long eyelashes seemed to dust over her eyes as she gently closed them. Seconds, minutes, however long later, she looked me in the eye with a wide grin.
“I… I don’t think I am, Bren. I’ve finally gotten over it.”
She let out a gleeful sound and flung her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her there, and tried to smile. I tried to laugh, join in her revelation somehow. But I couldn’t. Instead there was a painful lurch within me, an aching sting, a terrifyingly dreadful feeling.
And that feeling was all it took for me to realize that I was completely in love with Charlotte Raine Miller.
***
Charlotte.
I guess I’d kind of been expecting him to ask me. Or at least, I wondered if he would. So I wasn’t surprised when he did. But I didn’t truly know what my answer was until that moment. And that realization felt so amazing to me. After all these years, we were finally just friends again. No complicated unrequited love stuck between us. I was over it.
It put me in a great mood for the next week. I was humming as I walked, grinning at air, and had to restrain myself from randomly dancing with a girl who asked for mine and Tyson’s autograph. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy. Seb noticed. Well, it was probably difficult not to, I suppose, but he certainly didn’t mind all the extra affectionate attention. Nothing could be better than this. I’d be quite content remaining like this forever, seeing if this feeling of elation would ever wear off, because it didn’t feel like it was dimming at all.
Of course, this was precisely the part where everything was about to change. Forever.
“Hey Char?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you recognize this place at all?”
Seb and I had escaped for the night, and he’d taken me to the lakeside. The sun sparkled against the water, glistening as it set, highlighting the dark red water stained from tea-tree. It must have been a picturesque scene, as we lay curled up together under a large evergreen tree, the setting sun accentuating our blissful smiles. I bit my lip and my brow furrowed in concentration as I looked around more closely, filtering through memories to try and find a match. There was certainly something familiar about the red lake, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I told him so, and he chuckled softly, the pleasant feelings rippling through my body.
“You don’t remember?”
I shook my head, faux miserably.
“You don’t remember where we met?”
Just like that it clicked. The memories of first meeting Sebastian by the lake, a friend of a friend of a friend. I remembered how we wore the same jeans. I remembered how he taught me how to skip smooth stones over the water. I was still terrible at it, but he could make it look artistic. I remembered hearing the hint of Irish in his voice for the first time, and how exciting it had felt. I remembered just clicking with someone so well after a single meeting, and how our friendship had slowly grown and developed before our more intimate relationship had begun to blossom.
I turned my head towards him and kissed him, reliving all the memories through our touching lips. When we finally broke apart, I didn’t remove my arms from where they were wrapped around his waist. He gently raised an arm and pointed to the other side of the lake, a little to the left, marked by a huge log that we had once sat upon. Through the thin scrub of trees, I could see the elevated platform of land where a bunch of other college kids had started a bonfire that night that I’d met Sebastian.
“That’s where we first met. On those rocks, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” I sighed happily. “That was probably the best night of my life.”
Seb started shifting behind me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the view as I imagined our younger selves getting acquainted. Who could ever have guessed that it would lead us to where we were now? I felt soft lips on the back of my neck, and I turned around with a perfect smile. But I could never have expected the sight that greeted me when I turned around. My eyes widened, gazing uncertainly into Seb’s loving hazel ones. I was utterly breathless as I muttered the only syllable I could.
“Oh.”
The first thing I heard that morning was the incessant, irritating beeping of the goddamn watch on my wrist. My first instinct was to rip if off and slam in repeatedly against the wall of my bunk until it dropped limp and silent, but I prevented myself from doing so remembering that it was much more expensive than the tawdry waterproof ones that had met that fate during my adolescence. Instead, I groggily sat up and fiddled with the tiny silver knobs to stop the sound. My emotions were a mix of swift gratitude that I was short enough not to have whacked my head on the roof of my bunk, frustration at the complicated time-telling device, and vague amusement at the predictability of such a practical gift from Ryan a year before. And with that last thought, it hit me. Ryan had given me the watch exactly a year before.
It was my twenty-second birthday.
I pulled myself out of my bunk, wrapping myself tightly in a blanket and trudging to the lounge to get myself a glass of orange juice. No one else was up yet, and regardless of the fuss before I hadn’t actually checked my watch. I groaned as the minute hand just ticked onto the tiny VII symbol, and threw myself down onto the couch. I wasn’t sleepy, which meant my mind was left to wander.
It was my birthday. Thinking of that inevitably led to thinking of Charlie and the stupid, frustrating annual interrogation that I used to burden her with on my birthdays. What the hell was wrong with me? I could see that it was tearing her apart inside. Why would I still ask her, just to soothe my own curiosity? What a selfish, immature brat I had been. What on earth had she ever seen in me? She hadn’t been there for my last few birthdays. None of them had felt the same without her, but at least she’d been free of my mean question.
So what now? I hated myself for doing that to her before, but was I supposed to ask her this year? Did she expect me to? Would failing to ask it acknowledge that our friendship had changed? Would asking it break our friendship?
I fetched myself an aspirin and rubbed my eyes before dry swallowing it, wincing as it lodged itself in my throat.
“Happy birthday, Bren!” Jon grinned, emerging in his pajamas from the bunk area.
“Thanks man,” I smiled.
“You want some coffee?” he asked. “Wouldn’t have expected you to be up this early.”
“Neither would I,” I chuckled. “Couldn’t get back to sleep I guess.”
Jon nodded, busying himself with the coffee plunger and china mugs. He’s the only one I’d trust to make my coffee. Having a barista in the bus was one of the most ingenious decisions anyone had ever made. Ten minutes later, he joined me on the couch and handed me a steaming cup emanating a delicious aroma. I grinned lazily in appreciation and began to thank him before he surprised me by plopping a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream on my lap. My eyebrows shot up.
“It’s your birthday, and I’ll admit I forgot to get you a present,” he shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So I’m just gonna be really nice to you today.”
I chuckled, tossing one of the ruby red fruits into my mouth.
“Thanks heaps, Jon.”
“Sorry for…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I interrupted. “Seriously. No problem.”
We smiled at each other in understanding, and settled into a comfortable silence. Jon was one of the only people I could be around like this; quiet and serene. He knew when I didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to be questioned, and he obeyed my silent wishes. He really was a great guy.
I glanced out the window of the bus and saw a smiling figure jam a black beanie over her messy red hair. My lips involuntarily curled upwards, but the sneaky smile vanished as another well-built figure hugged her waist and pulled her in to his chest. I refused to acknowledge the painstakingly obvious. I refused to acknowledge jealousy. That would be ridiculous. This was Charlie we were talking about. My Charlie. My best friend. Mine. Not his.
I gulped down my hit of caffeine and thanked Jon again before heading off to get ready for the day ahead.
***
“Brendon!”
I spun around and grinned like an idiot as Charlie launched herself into my arms, wrapping hers around me as tightly as she possibly could until I felt almost winded. She’d already hugged me several times today, but not when she was quite that intoxicated. She wasn’t drunk, but definitely a little tipsy.
“Hey babe,” I beamed, thankful for the fact that Sebastian wasn’t hanging around. “You wanna dance?”
We’d played our show for the night, receiving a great uproar from the crowd wishing me happy birthday. It was uplifting, really. After the show, which I truly tried to pour my soul into, the bands had retired to a cozy little club, more like a bar with dancing, really, and proceeded with enjoyable, alcohol-fueled birthday celebrations. It was all lovely, and I really was having a good time, but there was a part of me that really just wanted to be hanging out with Charlie, and Charlie only.
“I’m kind of tired, why don’t we go outside and get some fresh air?”
Sometimes, I really thought she could read my wishes.
“Sure.”
She grabbed my hand and we weaved our way through our friends and random well-wishers to the door. Breaking through, we gulped in the semi-fresh air that was untainted with the scent of liquor. We walked down the street a bit until we reached a vacant bench; a bus stop, judging by the yellow sign adorning the pole beside it. She took a seat first, and I accidentally stared at her for a second or so before sitting beside her.
“It’s a beautiful night,” she commented, looking up at the wide expanse of sparkle-dotted midnight blue that was the sky. It wasn’t like Vegas or Chicago or LA out here. You could actually see the stars, and smell the grass. Not that it was completely free of pollution, it was a city after all, but there was an unmistakable difference.
“It is,” I agreed, turning from the sky to her as my pulse fell into a lazy beat.
“Happy birthday Brendon,” she smiled.
“Thanks Char. I’ll admit, it feels really good to be celebrating it with you again.”
She gulped and looked down, and I immediately backtracked. It was some sort of unspoken rule that we didn’t discuss our years apart. We just moved forward.
“No… Don’t feel bad about it. In a way it makes this better than any other birthday I’ve ever had.”
She looked back to me with a watery smile, her unshed tears shining over her eyes. She wouldn’t admit it, but I could tell that my comment had made all the difference in the world to her.
“Even better than Hawaii?” she joked with a small hiccup.
“Even better than Hawaii,” I repeated with a grin.
I don’t know how long we sat there together, gazing at the stars. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Either way, my mind danced around with thoughts of the wonderful girl beside me. Memories, thoughts of now, and even glimpses of futures that I couldn’t completely comprehend, futures that I tried not to understand. Futures that I shouldn’t be thinking of or wishing for.
And then there it was. The question, building up inside me. It was racing towards my lips, regardless of all the warning signs, regardless of how I’d hated myself over it this morning, regardless of how much I didn’t want the conversation to turn this way. Not for me, but I was concerned for her. If I asked this, who knew what could happen. And perhaps it was the curiosity that eventually forced the words through my mouth.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“I hate to do this, I really do…”
“Go on…” she prompted, as if she knew.
“Are you still in love with me?”
I analyzed her reaction. The way her head dropped the tiniest bit, but she didn’t seem at all surprised or distraught by the question. That was a good sign, right? In fact, she almost seemed… relieved? Happy? A glimmer of a smile was flickering on her painted lips. She softly bit her bottom lip as her long eyelashes seemed to dust over her eyes as she gently closed them. Seconds, minutes, however long later, she looked me in the eye with a wide grin.
“I… I don’t think I am, Bren. I’ve finally gotten over it.”
She let out a gleeful sound and flung her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her there, and tried to smile. I tried to laugh, join in her revelation somehow. But I couldn’t. Instead there was a painful lurch within me, an aching sting, a terrifyingly dreadful feeling.
And that feeling was all it took for me to realize that I was completely in love with Charlotte Raine Miller.
***
Charlotte.
I guess I’d kind of been expecting him to ask me. Or at least, I wondered if he would. So I wasn’t surprised when he did. But I didn’t truly know what my answer was until that moment. And that realization felt so amazing to me. After all these years, we were finally just friends again. No complicated unrequited love stuck between us. I was over it.
It put me in a great mood for the next week. I was humming as I walked, grinning at air, and had to restrain myself from randomly dancing with a girl who asked for mine and Tyson’s autograph. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy. Seb noticed. Well, it was probably difficult not to, I suppose, but he certainly didn’t mind all the extra affectionate attention. Nothing could be better than this. I’d be quite content remaining like this forever, seeing if this feeling of elation would ever wear off, because it didn’t feel like it was dimming at all.
Of course, this was precisely the part where everything was about to change. Forever.
“Hey Char?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you recognize this place at all?”
Seb and I had escaped for the night, and he’d taken me to the lakeside. The sun sparkled against the water, glistening as it set, highlighting the dark red water stained from tea-tree. It must have been a picturesque scene, as we lay curled up together under a large evergreen tree, the setting sun accentuating our blissful smiles. I bit my lip and my brow furrowed in concentration as I looked around more closely, filtering through memories to try and find a match. There was certainly something familiar about the red lake, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I told him so, and he chuckled softly, the pleasant feelings rippling through my body.
“You don’t remember?”
I shook my head, faux miserably.
“You don’t remember where we met?”
Just like that it clicked. The memories of first meeting Sebastian by the lake, a friend of a friend of a friend. I remembered how we wore the same jeans. I remembered how he taught me how to skip smooth stones over the water. I was still terrible at it, but he could make it look artistic. I remembered hearing the hint of Irish in his voice for the first time, and how exciting it had felt. I remembered just clicking with someone so well after a single meeting, and how our friendship had slowly grown and developed before our more intimate relationship had begun to blossom.
I turned my head towards him and kissed him, reliving all the memories through our touching lips. When we finally broke apart, I didn’t remove my arms from where they were wrapped around his waist. He gently raised an arm and pointed to the other side of the lake, a little to the left, marked by a huge log that we had once sat upon. Through the thin scrub of trees, I could see the elevated platform of land where a bunch of other college kids had started a bonfire that night that I’d met Sebastian.
“That’s where we first met. On those rocks, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” I sighed happily. “That was probably the best night of my life.”
Seb started shifting behind me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the view as I imagined our younger selves getting acquainted. Who could ever have guessed that it would lead us to where we were now? I felt soft lips on the back of my neck, and I turned around with a perfect smile. But I could never have expected the sight that greeted me when I turned around. My eyes widened, gazing uncertainly into Seb’s loving hazel ones. I was utterly breathless as I muttered the only syllable I could.
“Oh.”