What He Left Behind

Charlie is silent for a second. I don’t expect anything less because that’s what usually happens; people need a moment to construct an appropriate response.

“I’ve known you a month and you only just thought to tell me?” he asks, more concerned than angry.

“It’s not exactly something you bring into the average conversation.”

“True,” he accepts, “What was his name?” A lot of people might find that a peculiar question, but I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. People hear the word ‘died’ and are sent into panic mode. They get all flustered and uncomfortable and say stupid things like ‘sorry’ as though sorry will make it all okay.

I don’t mind ‘How did he die?’ or ‘What happened?’ so much, because it’s only natural to be curious, but I just think it’s unfair how Austin is almost defined by his death. It’s as though his life has been completely forgotten and his death is all that people remember him by. To them he’s ‘Austin, that boy that died.’

To me, he’s Austin the person that never failed to make me laugh, the person that cared a lot, too much even, the person that I loved more than anyone else. He was fire that burned so profusely and furiously. He was sunshine, always brightening someone’s day, even though he couldn’t brighten his own. He was bitter like the December frost and unrelenting like the August sun and a mixture of everything else in between. He was a whole bunch of things. To me, he was golden.

“His name was Austin,” I tell Charlie as we continue to walk through the desolate streets, “It’s his birthday soon.”

“When?”

“October 10th.”

“Are you doing anything?”

“I want to,” I admit, “He may be dead but surely his birthday is still worth celebrating. My parents don’t think so. They like to pretend that he never existed.”

“Sometimes that’s how people cope. It’s easier to pretend he was never there at all than to accept he’s gone. What was he like?” Charlie continues. The truth is I could go on for hours about what he was like, but I don’t think now would be the right time to get into detail, hence why I go for the most accurate and to-the-point description I can think of.

“He was like you.” Charlie is silent for another moment, taking in my words and trying to make sense of them.

“Like me?” he questions, raising his eyebrows in curiosity as we come to a stop outside my house.

“Yes.”

“How was he like me?” I look from Charlie to my house back to Charlie, an image of Austin flashing through my mind, an image that vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

“That story,” I decide, “Will have to wait for another time.” Charlie turns to face me, sighing with irritation as he shakes his head at me. He doesn’t push me though, and I am grateful for that.

“Thank you Charlie,” I tell him sincerely, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You missed,” he mutters with the usual glint of mischief in his eyes.
I never can work out whether or not he’s joking. Knowing what he’s like when it comes to girls, he’s probably being serious. I know better than to follow the impulse to kiss him though. I’m not about to become another girl he can add to his list of conquests.

Instead I settle for a hug, snaking my arms around his neck and burying my head in his chest. He lets out a small laugh but wraps his arms tightly around my waist. We stay like that for a few seconds longer than we should, but I can’t tear myself away. His scent is soothing and his embrace is comforting.

Charlie is the first one to pull away and I feel my cheeks blush red, fearful that he might figure something out. I am glad it is dark enough so he cannot notice.

“Seriously though, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me doll.”

“Goodnight Charlie,” I smile.

“Goodnight Noelle,” he grins before walking away. I enter the house quietly, being cautious not to run into my parents as I’m not in the mood for another round of arguing. The light is on in their room but I doubt they’ll come and check on me. Once I’m in my room, I change and take off my makeup.

Then I sit down on the edge of the bed and carefully go over the events of the evening: my parents wanting to ignore Austin’s birthday, Charlie and how safe he makes me feel, the encounter with those guys which suggested I should actually feel the opposite, Charlie’s outburst, and finally telling somebody about Austin.

Then the familiar tidal wave of emotion rushes over me. But this time is different. It’s not anger or worry or despair. It’s relief.

Charlie knows about Austin. I no longer have to drive myself insane feeling like the only person that remembers him. I no longer have to worry that one day I’ll forget him like everyone else has. I no longer have to pretend that I’m okay even when it actually feels like the world is falling apart.
For the first time since my wonderful brother died, I’m not all alone.

-

On Monday, I sit in the cafeteria with Amber, Harlee, Tristan and Keegan. Harlee spends most of lunchtime talking about how amazing Saturday night was and Keegan spends most of lunchtime shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I am somewhat relieved when we are interrupted by a pretty petite girl with choppy light brown, almost ginger hair.

“Hi Maggie,” Amber grins.

“Hey chick,” the almost ginger-haired girl greets.

“What’s up?”

“We’ve got gaps left for sports day. Any takers?” she asks, holding up her clipboard.

“Well I’m already doing long jump and triple jump,” Amber explains, “And the boys are booked up
too.”

“Looks like it’s up to you two,” Maggie observes, turning her attention to Harlee and I.

“Fuck no, I don’t do sports,” Harlee frowns.

“Ehh…it was worth a try,” Maggie shrugs, “What about you newbie?”

“What’s left?” I ask, glancing at her clipboard, “I’m a runner, if that’s what you need.”

“Only the 1500m I’m afraid.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Look at you, we’ve got ourselves a long distance runner,” Maggie grins, “I like you.”

“What’s sports day like here?” I ask absent-mindedly.

“Absolutely mental,” Keegan mutters.

“You love it Keegan,” Harlee smirks, “You practically count down the days every year. You live for sports day.”

“I think it’s fun,” he cries defensively, “Especially the water fight at the end.”

“It is pretty fun,” Amber admits, “It’s one of the few school activities that people actually enjoy. The whole school gets into it. You’ll see.”

-

As promised, the atmosphere around school is electric when sports day arrives. I walk through the doors with Charlie and Stan, stunned by the amount of colour. The walls are plastered with banners and signs supporting the different houses. People are sporting t-shirts with the name and colour of their house on, and dotted along the corridors are tables littered with pots of face paint, t-shirts, banners and other propaganda. To say our school goes all out on sports day is an understatement.

“This is so gay,” Charlie mutters, shaking his head.

“You’re no fun,” I frown.

“I think you’ll find my definition of fun is just a bit different to yours sweetie,” he smirks.

“Stop calling me that,” I complain.

“Why?”

“You always call me that when you patronise me.”

“I don’t patronise you.”

“You do.”

“No. I don’t, sweetie.” I roll my eyes as we continue to walk through the corridors, the crowds all parting to allow Charlie and Stan to pass; no one dares to get in their way.

“Noelle!” I hear someone yell and I look around to see who it is. Over by the face paint table for our house I see Keegan. I should have known that goofball would be at the centre of the festivities.

“Come on guys,” I plead, tugging Charlie and Stan towards the table.

“Noelle, you must be fucking joking,” Charlie sneers.

“Please guys,” I beg.

“Sorry Noelle, I’m out,” decides Stan.

“Fine, I’ll meet you guys later. You’re coming to watch, right?”

“Only cos you’ll kill me if I don’t,” Charlie smirks, planting a kiss on my cheek before he and Stan disappear into the crowd.

“Hey Keegan,” I smile as I reach the table. He has a purple tie around his head and purple paint splodged across his face.

“You want some?” he asks, holding up the tub of face paint.

“Sure,” I agree, dabbing a splodge on each cheek.

“Looking good,” Maggie giggles, appearing behind the table. I have learned that Maggie is our
student head of house. She picks up another purple tie and ties it round my head.

“You look like a hippie,” she remarks.

“Smile!” a voice calls. Keegan, Maggie and I turn to see a boy dressed head to toe in purple, his
entire face painted and his hair dyed. We all laugh as he snaps a photo.

“What do you look like?!” I gasp.

“Gotta get in the spirit, you know. Purple pride,” he chuckles, flicking his purple hair out of his face.

“Noelle, where’s your boyfriend?” Tristan asks as he and Amber arrive at the table.

“Shut up, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Okay, well whatever you want to call him.”

“He doesn’t really like this kind of thing. He thinks it’s stupid,” I shout, raising my voice so that I can be heard over the noise of people chanting through megaphones and the school band who are marching up and down the corridors.

“What a surprise. He’s coming to watch you run though, right?”

“I told him to. Hopefully he can tolerate showing up for a few minutes.”

“Why’s he always so grumpy? Does he never have any fun?” the boy with purple hair whose name is
David asks.

“He isn’t as bad as he makes himself out to be,” I admit.

“Personally, I think he’s attractive,” Maggie declares, wrapping her arm supportively round my shoulder.

“Really Mags?” David sighs.

“Yes! He’s all dark and brooding and intimidating. That’s so hot.”

“He’s a douchebag. What’s attractive about someone who does drugs and gets into fights all the time?” David groans, rolling his eyes.

“Well no one will mess with you. If anyone ever hurts Noelle, can you imagine the shit that would go down? He’d kill them.” I laugh and decide I like Maggie.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be pretty,” Tristan frowns.

My mind flashes back to the other night when Charlie and I encountered that group of guys on the way home. I recall the way he gripped tightly to my hand, the way he kept me close to him, the way he pushed me behind him the second they brought me into it. I feel myself blushing.

-

Once all the events are over for the day, the scores are added up and the winners are announced. I came first in the 1500m and our house came second out of six overall. As promised, Charlie and Stan came to watch, although they didn’t exactly look thrilled to be there. They stood out like sore thumbs, dressed in all black among the huge mass of colour. Still, the fact they actually showed up is enough to make me happy.

“Am I allowed to leave now?” Charlie asks me as he and Stan stalk over to where Amber, Tristan and I are standing.

“If you must.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll hit someone if I spent any more time with these freaks,” he mutters, nodding his head in the direction of a group of people setting up for the water fight.

“Lighten up,” I tease.

“You did well,” he says, pulling me into a hug, “We’re going out with the guys and Tay and her friends. Do you want to come with us?”

“No, we’re going out for burgers after the water fight.” Charlie looks at Stan and they snigger before shaking their heads.

“Fun,” he says sarcastically.

“What?” I ask defensively.

“Nothing, you’re just a dork,” he laughs, “See you around kiddo.”