What He Left Behind

When I wake up the next morning, I ache all over and feel completely unrefreshed. It was about 5.00am by the time most people had left the party. I didn’t see Charlie again for the rest of the night, but I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to. The image of him with Miranda wouldn’t get out of my head.

Stan and a bunch of other people decided to crash at Charlie’s anywhere they could find space. Stan said I could stay too, which wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was probably a safer bet than walking home on my own in the early hours of the morning. Oak Park doesn’t exactly have the lowest crime rate in California. I don’t know why, out of all of the places we could have moved, my parents chose to move here.

I am surrounded by sleeping bodies, most people still completely knocked out from the amount of alcohol they consumed the previous night. I go into the bathroom to wash my face and neaten up my hair, although I’m too tired to greatly care what I look like.

Much to my dismay, I have to go into Charlie’s room to get my bag. He is still asleep and so is Miranda so I silently grab my things before leaving, not wanting to risk waking them up. When I am this exhausted, I’m more quick-tempered and argumentative than usual so it probably isn’t wise talking to Charlie right now. I just want to go home and sleep and think things over.

Charlie doesn’t like me walking around town on my own, but I’d rather do that than spend any more time at this place. I feel frustrated and fed up, and the lack of sleep isn’t helping the situation. I’m angry with Charlie for talking me into coming to this dumb party when he knew he was going to be shooting up on drugs and how I felt about that. I’m angry with myself for letting him convince me. Since when did I become such a pushover?

Since I fell for Charlie. Trust me to fall for the idiot who’s addicted to the one thing I despise and who cares too much about sex to be able to give it up for a while to begin a relationship with me. That’s if he’s even interested in me like that.

-

It is gone four in the afternoon when I awaken from my rather long nap. I feel a lot better and am able to think rationally again, so I go over the events of last night. I don’t know why I got so worked up over it really. I knew Charlie would probably end up crawling into bed with someone, so I’m not sure why it came as a shock. I also knew he’d be drinking and taking stuff; it’s a party. What more of an excuse does he need? I reckon I was the only sober one at the party so I’m glad I was there to keep an eye on him in case something happened.

Maybe the reason I got so worked up was the lack of sleep. Everything seems worse when you’re tired. My thoughts get ahead of me and the slightest thing feels like the end of the world.
Once I’ve cleared my head a bit, I go into my mother’s room and wake her up as gently as I can, figuring it will take her forever simply to get out of bed.

“You need to get up,” I tell her. She groans and shakes her head and pulls the covers around her shoulders. “Mum, you have a doctor’s appointment in 40 minutes.”

I don’t know why my father keeps sending her to see the doctor. Besides giving her some antidepressants, which she doesn’t always take, they never do anything to help. I wonder what she says to the doctor when she goes. I wonder if she actually speaks to them at all, or if she just stares blankly at them, occasionally muttering the odd one-word response. That’s all she ever does at home.

I ask her what she wants to wear, which is pointless really; I know she won’t offer me any response.
Sighing, I take a nice dress from her wardrobe, one that she used to wear when she still went to work, and place it down on the bed.

“Is this okay?” I ask her.

“Yes,” she replies, smiling weakly. I pull her into a sitting position and pick up a brush from the dresser. Carefully, I run the brush through her hair and then tie it up into a bun.

“Come on mama, I’m going to take a shower now but I need you to get dressed for me. Can you do that?”

“Okay,” she agrees, nodding. I go back into my own room and pick up my towel and shampoo, ready to take a shower, but just before I go into the bathroom, my phone rings. It’s Charlie, of course. Who else could happen to pick such an inconvenient time?

“Hey,” I mutter, still feeling slightly awkward after what I walked in on last night.

“Noelle, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Can I come over?”

“I’m just getting in the shower.”

“I can join you,” he suggests, and I know him well enough to know he is only half joking.

“In your dreams Charlie. Look, now’s not a good time. I’ve got to make sure my mum gets to her doctor’s appointment.”

“It won’t take long. Can I just come round quickly?”

“Give me twenty minutes,” I tell him, rolling my eyes, annoyed at myself for giving in as per usual.

“Just be quick,” he persists.

“I will,” I say as I hang up the phone. I shower as quickly as I can and when I turn off the shower, wrap myself in a towel and return to my room, I’m startled to see that Charlie is already there, sprawled across the bed and scrolling through his phone. Judging by the fact that his hair is a mess and his eyeliner is smudged, I figure he hasn’t long been up.

He tosses his phone to one side and sits up.

“The front door was unlocked,” he informs me, flashing me a mischievous grin as he eyes me up and down.

“Eyes up here thank you,” I remind him, clicking my fingers next to my head. He smirks and gets up off of the bed, snaking his arms round my waist.

“You’re not mad at me, are you? About last night?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. I reckon that by now he must be aware of my weakness of never being able to be mad at him.

“How could I be mad at someone who practically broke in to my house?” I mutter dryly.

“You can’t,” he declares in the most innocent voice, planting a kiss on my neck and then another one on my jaw. I am aware of how dangerously close he is getting to my lips.

“Watch it Charlie, I don’t want you getting carried away,” I tell him, pushing him away from me. He’s acting needier than usual, more flirtatious and I don’t understand what’s brought this on.

“You’d love it,” he retorts, sure of himself as ever. I roll my eyes, grabbing some underwear, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt as I face away from Charlie so I can get myself dressed without letting him see anything.

“Don’t look,” I order and he smirks but obediently looks away. He may think more with his dick than
with his brain but I trust him not to completely go against what I say. I like to think he has enough respect for me not to do that.

“Anyway, what is it you need to talk to me about?” I enquire, sitting down cross-legged on the bed once I am fully clothed. Charlie sits next to me, tucking his arms around my waist again and pulling me into a childish hug.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay about last night,” he says after a short while.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You sleeping with someone isn’t exactly a shock.”

“Wait, how do you know about that?” he asks, suddenly letting go of me.

“What?”

“Who told you about Miranda?”

“Charlie I walked in on you. I thought that’s why you came round.”

“Oh shit,” he laughs, “Sorry, I don’t remember much. I thought you might be mad about me disappearing and pretty much leaving you on your own. I know you didn’t know a lot of people there.”

“I wasn’t on my own,” I say, using the opportunity to get my own back. He gets jealous just as easily as I do. “Stan looked after me,” I add.

“How gracious of him,” Charlie mutters bitterly and I can’t help but get a kick of satisfaction out of the fact I gave him a taste of his own medicine. We’re both as stubborn and possessive as each other.

“He’s your best mate Charlie, don’t be jealous,” I tease, unable to resist the chance to dig the knife in.

“Yeah, but it’s thanks to me that he’s even friends with you, for fuck’s sake,” he cries, jumping up from the bed, his eyes clouding over with that aggressive cold look that he has when he feels threatened.

“So you’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want but I’m not allowed to even talk to your friends when you completely ditch me,” I retort, with a lot more bitterness in my voice than I intended. Charlie lets out a blunt laugh and unclenches his jaw.

“Sweetie, by the sounds of things, you’re the one that’s jealous here, not me.” Once again, he’s somehow regained the upper hand. It frustrates me beyond belief how he can do that so easily.

“Oh please,” I scoff before being cut off by Charlie.

“If you want to sleep with me, all you have to do is ask,” he says casually, his voice oozing arrogance.

“Get over yourself, why would I wanna lose my virginity to an asshole like you?”

“You’re a virgin?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. I didn’t mean to tell him that, but Charlie is Charlie and I cannot help but feel completely comfortable and secure around him. I don’t think about what I say when I’m with Charlie the way that I do when I’m with anyone else.

“Yes,” I admit, “I thought that’d be obvious.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised but I am,” he tells me, laughing and clapping his hands together, looking pleased with himself for making such a discovery. I honestly did not think it would come as that much of a surprise. “Have you even kissed anyone?” he persists.

“Nope,” I reply leaning back on the bed so that I’m lying down.

“Fuck, that’s adorable. You’re even more innocent than I thought.”

“Well not all of us go around giving it to everyone we meet Charlie. Excuse me for being a little classier than you,” I snap defensively. Charlie looks at me and raises an eyebrow, a smug grin spread right across his face.

“Don’t be mean to me because you’re embarrassed you’re a prude,” he teases. Charlie crawls over to where I am lying, positioning himself on top of me, his knees either side of my waist. He sits on my stomach and my breath hitches in my throat as a result of the close contact.

“I’m not embarrassed Charlie,” I correct, “I’m entitled to do with my body what I please. Don’t judge me for being selective over whom I choose to let kiss me.”

“I’m not judging you sweetie. In fact, I agree with you. Someone as special as you shouldn’t be kissed by just anyone.”

“Turning on the charm I see.”

“I’m serious,” he clarifies and I know from the lack of teasing smirk that he means it genuinely.

“What are you doing?” I ask flatly, gesturing to our rather suggestive position. He places his hands either side of my head and leans down so that his lips are at my ear.

“Relax,” he breathes, sending a shiver down my spine. He sits back up, lacing his fingers with mine and then says, “You trust me right?”

“I think so,” I answer dangerously. I can feel my hands shaking in Charlie’s and I hope he hasn’t noticed. I can’t help it; Charlie and I have never acted like this before and it’s sending my head spinning.

“Good. I want to kiss you.” My heart skips a beat and I swear I feel my cheeks heat up. Confused, my eyes scan his face for any hint of a joke or sarcasm. There isn’t one. In fact, he looks more placid than I’ve ever seen him before. His facial features aren’t twisted into a scowl and his signature smirk is nowhere to be found. I’m usually quite good at figuring out how he’s feeling but right now, his face is completely stripped of emotion and I can’t work him out at all.

“Why?” I ask tentatively. He shrugs and touches his teeth to the corner of his lips, thinking.

“I don’t want some jerk that doesn’t care about you stealing your first kiss.”

“You’re a bit of a jerk though Charlie,” I tease, giggling a little.

“I care about you though,” he assures and again, it’s like all the air has been snatched from my lungs. I try to fight back the smile that is tugging at my lips but I can’t. Butterflies in my stomach aren’t a sensation I’m used to but right now, they won’t go away. Does Charlie have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss him?

Cautiously, I untangle my hands from Charlie’s, sliding them up his biceps and around his shoulders, causing him to have to lean closer to me. He smiles a contagious smile and places one hand to the bed beside my head, supporting his weight, and curls the other around the side of my neck.

I forget how to breathe when he presses his lips to mine. Suddenly, I feel as though my heart is going to beat out of my chest, and my head is a mess of both nerves and excitement. I pull him closer to me, deepening the kiss and savouring the feel of his lips moving against mine. My stomach is about to explode because I’ve never felt butterflies like this before. I feel as if I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. When he pulls away, I giggle pathetically, squeezing my eyes shut and covering my face with my hands.

“You just kissed me,” I say lamely and he exhales, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I did,” he confirms, “Now when I’m famous, you get to tell everyone you’ve had the pleasure of kissing me.”

I sigh, too busy trying to hide the smile that can’t leave my lips to roll my eyes at his cocky remark. Kissing him made my lips tingle and my whole body feel all jittery. There’s something about Charlie; everything is intensified with him.

A lot of people say that when they kiss someone, their mind is overwhelmed by happy thoughts and fluttery feelings and other shit like that. For me, when I kissed Charlie, it was the first time in months that my mind had been clear; clear of worry and clear of anger and clear of longing. Everything was simple and okay. And just like that, just from one simple kiss, Charlie has me hopelessly addicted.