What He Left Behind

“What do you think of Rena?” I ask Charlie as we sit in my room later that night.

“I think she’s hot.”

“You think everyone’s hot.”

“Except you…you’re just annoying.”

I stretch my legs out and pull the blanket over them. Charlie, who is lying next to me on his stomach shifts so that his head is resting in my lap. I run my fingers through his silky hair and play with it softly, just as an excuse to touch him.

“Seriously Charlie, what do you think?”

“She seems nice,” he decides, “She’s pretty gutsy to come here on her own and tell you that. It must have been emotional for her, but she held it together really well.”

“Yeah definitely, I don’t know how the hell she’s raising a child all on her own.”

“God knows. She’s done well for herself hasn’t she? Building a whole new life for her and the kid.”

“I know. That’s incredible. I can imagine her to be a really good mum, like I bet she dotes on Jacob.”

“Of course. I guess if Jacob’s the only part of Austin she has left, she’s going to do everything she can to give him the best life possible.”

“I’ve never really thought of it like that.”

“Maybe you haven’t lost Austin completely after all.”

I smile a genuine smile because I suddenly see how great this is. My brother may be gone but now there’s Jacob. And there’s Rena – Rena who it’s clear to see loved Austin as much as I did, who talks about him openly, who isn’t pretending like he never existed. I was so scared that I’d forget Austin one day, but now it’s okay because I’m not the only person that cared about him. That thought alone is enough to take away half the longing, I swear.

“You’re sending me to sleep,” Charlie mumbles.

“Sorry,” I say, quickly untangling my fingers from his hair.

“No, don’t stop,” he whines, “It’s relaxing.” I grin and continue playing with his hair. “What are you going to do now? About Rena?” he asks.

“I want to see her again. I want to meet Jacob.”

“Ring her then.”

“I will in the morning.” Charlie’s phone buzzes and we both instinctively look down at it to see a message from someone named Cassie.

“Who’s Cassie?” I ask curiously.

“You’re so nosy,” Charlie retorts, “I work behind the bar sometimes at Mason’s uncle’s place and she comes in a lot.”

“And?”

“I finished my shift and we hung out afterwards.”

“Did you hook up?”

“Not yet,” Charlie muses, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And what makes you think she actually wants to sleep with you?” I challenge.

“Doesn’t everyone?” he asks nonchalantly before arrogantly adding, “Girls can’t help but jump into bed with me.”

“Yeah, what is it that makes all the girls jump into bed with you?” I ask, suddenly intrigued. There’s no arguing that Charlie’s good looking. Everything about him from the way he holds himself to the way he speaks is attractive. He’s mysterious and puzzling too, which I know is endearing to a lot of people, evidently me included, but I’ve never seen girls flock to anyone quite like they do to him.

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging, “Maybe it’s my dashing good looks or maybe I’m just really good in bed.”

I scoff. “I bet you’re just really rough and into all that BDSM stuff, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t we hook up and you can see for yourself?” he suggests with brazen assurance.

“As tempting as it is,” I say sarcastically, “I’d rather not.”

“You’re not gonna know then are you?”

“Charlie,” I whine, pouting like a child, “Tell me.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t know…I just imagine you to be really rough and…”

He cuts me off, sitting up suddenly, “Whoa, hold up a second. You imagine?”

“No, not like that,” I gasp, quickly becoming embarrassed as I lean my head back against the wall and cover my face with my hands.

“Oh my god!”

“Charlie shut up.”

“Oh my god! You fantasize about sleeping with me,” he cries triumphantly, “I can’t say I saw that coming. You act like a total prude but in actual fact you’ve wanted to sleep with me all along.” He grins arrogantly to himself and I just blush more. “Don’t be embarrassed sweetie. You’re not the only girl to fantasize about me. It’s okay.” He grabs my wrists and tugs my hands away from my face.

“I don’t fantasize about you,” I assure him, “You’re so annoying.”

“And you clearly love it. What exactly do you fantasize about?”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Answer my question.”

“You answer mine,” I demand, going back to the original subject.

“Noelle, I don’t understand you. You’re too embarrassed to admit you fantasize about sleeping with me but you’re quite happy to ask me what I’m like in bed.”

I shoot him a death glare. “Top or bottom?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and stares at me for a second before giving in. “Top,” he finally admits.

“Well that was obvious.”

“Obviously not or you wouldn’t have asked,” he hisses, shooting me a scowl.

“You don’t have any weird kinks do you? You’re not into that?”

He looks at me quizzically before raising an eyebrow, “Not unless you are.”

“No. How many girls have you slept with?”

“Jeez, I don’t know.”

I scoff, shaking my head.

“I could tell you,” he defends, “I’d just need to think about it.”

“Okay then,” I mutter dubiously, “What’s the deal with you and Tay?”

“Me and Tay?” he asks, his eyes widening slightly. I don’t mean to pry but I’ve been curious for so long now. Clearly they’re more to each other than a quick lay. But does he care about her like he cares about me? Does he maybe even have feelings for her?

“Yeah.”

“What do you want to know exactly?”

I think carefully, trying to figure out how to word it without sounding completely jealous and crazy. Charlie stares at me expectantly, watching my face as though he’s trying to figure out what I mean through my facial expression.

“It just seems like you guys are really close. She’s clearly a big part of your life and yet I’ve never even spoken to her.”

“I guess it’s just the timing of things; when you’re around she’s not and when she’s around you’re not. She’s in my biology class and my physics class so I talk to her then. We speak on the phone a lot. I go round hers in the evenings. She used to come to the bar when we were playing but she doesn’t really do that now.”

I feel a twinge of guilt. Is that because of me? When I arrived here, it seemed like she and Charlie were closer than close. Have I been unknowingly pushing her out?

“Does she hate me like Coral does?”

“No,” he laughs, “She’s fine. I’ve told her about you. She likes you.”

“What have you told her?” I ask, smiling.

“Just things,” he mumbles, shrugging, “I just mention things in passing, you know.”

“How long have you guys been hooking up?” I enquire.

“Two or three years. We were each other’s first.”

I breathe in sharply. I should have seen that coming but stupidly I didn’t. My stomach turns uncomfortably. That’s a tough act to follow; not only are they best friends who hook up a lot, hence combining both emotional and sexual intimacy – they lost their virginity to each other. Surely that creates an unbreakable bond. How can I compete with that?

I shake the silly thought from my head; I’m not in competition with Tay. I’m honestly not the kind of girl that feels threatened by other girls. I’m not like that at all so I don’t know why I’m suddenly thinking so immaturely.

“Wow, that’s kind of special.”

“I guess,” he says, not particularly confidently. I don’t take that as him disagreeing though; getting
Charlie to admit feelings of any kind for anyone is like getting Coral to stop being annoying – impossible.

“How’d it start?”

“We’d been friends for a while and we were completely comfortable with each other. Tay always said she was kinda nervous about what the first time would be like and we just figured that we’d get it out the way. It became a habit I guess. Sometimes Tay’ll start dating someone and we’ll obviously stop, but then they’ll hit a dead end and we’ll pick up where we left off. I guess it’s just convenient. Neither of us have feelings for each other; we’ve been clear about that from the start. It’s completely no strings attached.”

I can’t help but notice he says it like he’s reassuring me. He speaks with an apologetic tone, almost like he’s justifying to me that I don’t need to worry, almost like he knows how I feel about him.

-

The next couple of weeks are manic. On top of my ever-increasing amount of schoolwork, I have to find time to balance a social life and taking care of my mother and oftentimes, taking care of Charlie too. Rena goes back home to LA, but we speak on the phone a few times and arrange to meet for a drink when she’s next in town – Saturday 20th December.

I spend an endless amount of time debating whether or not to tell my parents about Rena and about Jacob. I can’t even imagine how they’d react. Will they be happy that a part of Austin still exists and that they have a grandchild? Or will it prolong their grief and make everything worse? Will they even care or will they just bury their head in the sand like they do during every other situation that arises?

Eventually, I come to the conclusion that I should hold off telling them for now. Knowing about Rena and Jacob has made me unexplainably relieved and happy, and I don’t think my parents deserve to know just yet. Maybe I am being selfish and unreasonable, but you could argue that they’re being selfish and unreasonable too, because they’re dealing with the loss of their son by refusing to love their daughter. So I find myself avoiding being in the house as much as possible, because while I’m feeling okay, I don’t want to risk their negativity jeopardising it.

Things begin to get more difficult with Charlie. When we’re together and he’s sober, everything is easy as always, but he periodically disappears off of the face of the earth, presumably on one of his self-destructive benders, and the worst thing is, they’re becoming more and more regular. I try to focus purely on Rena and Jacob and not worry myself sick over Charlie’s problem, but I know all too well that ignoring the problem won’t make it go away.

-

“Noelle, can I talk to you a minute?” a voice from behind calls as I sit with my friends in the cafeteria one day. I look up to see the voice belongs to Stan.

“Sure,” I smile, getting up from my seat. Stan grabs my arm and yanks me across the cafeteria, just like Charlie so often does, through the doors and along the corridor until we are alone.

“Is Charlie in today?” I ask.

“Nope. That’s what we need to talk about,” Stan announces. I gulp, my stomach churning uneasily.

“What’s happened?”

“We had band practice yesterday. Charlie was having withdrawals real bad,” Stan explains, “He was shaking and having hot flushes and feeling dizzy. He couldn’t remember the lyrics half the time. We hadn’t been practicing an hour before he made his excuses and fucked off to go and find his next hit.” I am quiet for a moment, taking in everything Stan is saying, but it’s difficult to accept the fact that my best friend is destroying himself.

“I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you,” Stan breathes, pulling me into his arms when he notices my worried expression. His embrace makes me feel supported. Charlie’s embrace makes me temporarily forget the problem altogether.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault,” I assure him.

“But I forgot how much this gets to you. I know this is hard.”

“It just sucks that he’s throwing away everything you guys have worked for.”

“Will you talk to him?”

“I’m not sure he’ll listen.”

“He’s more likely to listen to you than anyone else, Noelle. I don’t know what the fuck it is you do but you always seem to get through to him,” Stan marvels and that familiar feeling of butterflies returns for a brief second.

“Please Noelle, I’m begging you. I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate.”

I’m scared it will go wrong. I’m scared Charlie won’t listen. But I also know that I have to make him listen. He may be similar to Austin in a thousand ways, but he’s different to Austin in a thousand other ways. Charlie’s determined. Charlie has people that care about him. Charlie has insane talent and a future and people that believe in him. Charlie has hope. I refuse to give up on him.

“I’ll try,” I sigh, giving in.

“Thank you,” Stan sighs, leaning his head back against the wall in relief. “I owe you one.”

-

I stand alone on Charlie’s front porch, my head a complete mess as I knock at the door. I still don’t know how I’m going to play this. Giving him a lecture won’t help because I know he’s heard it before. It will be a challenge to stop myself from getting frustrated and arguing with him, but I try to rationalise that that’s useless too. I could get him to open up and maybe see if he’ll talk to me about how he’s feeling. I’m not really the patient sensitive type but logically thinking, it’s probably the best course of action. Maybe if he opens up then I can get a better understanding of the root of the problem, and then we can figure out how to tackle it.

After a few seconds, the door opens to reveal Charlie’s father. He grins widely when he sees me but I get the sense it’s for the sake of being polite rather than because he’s genuinely happy. He looks too stressed to be happy.

“Hi, sorry to bother you but is Charlie around?” I ask.

“You’re in luck,” he says dryly, “This is the first time in days he’s actually come home. Come on in, I’ll get him for you.”

It takes a couple of seconds for me to force my legs to move. Knowing just how badly this could end makes me want to run as far away from here as possible, but I know I mustn’t. Charlie needs help. I can’t pretend that he doesn’t or this will just get worse.

“Charlie!” Mr. Hemmingway yells up the stairs before turning his attention back to me, “How are you doing Noelle?”

“I’m alright thanks, how are you?”

“I’m okay. Look,” he says sincerely, his expression becoming stony, “I wanted to ask you, since you probably know more than I do, how is Charlie at the moment?”

“How do you mean?” I ask.

“You know how I mean,” he says, his tone commanding but not quite rude. Just like Charlie’s.
I shrug, wondering how I can explain to Charlie’s father that his youngest son, much like his eldest son, is driving himself into an early grave.

“Not so good,” I admit, “I don’t think he’s in a very good place right now.”

Charlie’s father sighs, running a hand through his greying hair. “He’s taking right after his brother, he is. I try my best with the pair of them but they’re a lot to handle.”

“I can imagine.”

“I tell you, things would be so different if their goddamn mother had stuck around. This is all down to her, you know.”

“It must be tough,” I empathise, treading carefully since I’m all too aware how sensitive a topic this is for them. I hear footsteps and look up to see Charlie sauntering down the stairs. He looks dizzy and flustered. He’s jacked up on something, that’s for sure.

“Noelle,” he smirks.

“I’m going to go. I’ll talk to you some other time,” I mumble, knowing there’s no point talking to him when he’s like this. Getting Charlie to listen is impossible at the best of times, let alone when he’s got drugs in his system.

“You can stay,” Charlie tells me, reaching for my hand. I pull away and his father tenses up. He doesn’t know how to react, and neither do I.

“I have to go,” I whisper.

“Why did you come here?” he asks, eyeing both me and his father suspiciously.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well then,” I say awkwardly, stepping from one foot to the other, “I’ll be on my way. Thank you Mr. Hemmingway. I’ll see you in school Charlie.” I step outside into the night, but before I can shut the door, Charlie pushes his way out.

“Wait up,” he demands.

“What?”

“Are you walking home?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll walk with you. I’m gonna go to Coral’s,” he slurs. I sigh. Only Coral would be desperate
enough as to sleep with him when he’s in this state. It doesn’t even make me jealous because right now, I’d rather it be her than me to be quite honest. How she can apparently be in love with him but then be more interested in having sex with him than helping him when he’s in such a mess baffles me. It’s like Austin all over again; all these assholes say they care but they don’t. If they cared then they would help.

We pretty much walk in silence, aside from Charlie grumbling the odd nonsensical words now and then. When we arrive at Coral’s house, Charlie mutters a quick goodbye before stumbling down her driveway. Intoxicated Charlie and my Charlie are two completely different people. Intoxicated Charlie can’t tell when I’m upset. Intoxicated Charlie doesn’t walk me home when it’s dark or give me his jumper to keep warm. They are nothing alike, but I care about intoxicated Charlie as much as I do my Charlie.

The moment Charlie disappears, all the tears I’ve been holding back gather in my eyes. I wipe them away before they can even fall. Crying won’t help the situation. Instead I stumble aimlessly through the maze of dark streets until I find myself on Stan’s front porch. He knows I was supposed to be talking to Charlie tonight, so he’s probably expecting me. He’s the only person who will understand right now.

“Hey kiddo,” Stan greets when he opens the door, “How’d it go?”

“It didn’t,” I state simply, because I don’t know what other way to put it.

“What happened?” he asks.

“He was upstairs when I got there, so I chatted to his dad until he came down,” I explain, “When he did, he was whacked out of his mind. I left because I’m not fucking wasting my time trying to get sense out of him when he’s like that. He followed me outside and I thought for one second that he might see sense, but instead he just buggered off to his fuckbuddy.”

“Tay?” Stan asks, shocked.

“Coral,” I correct.

“Oh right, I was gonna say, Tay wouldn’t let him get a foot in the door when he’s like that.”

“I don’t blame her. He’s a fucking asshole at the moment,” I complain, clenching my fists to stop myself from hitting something.

“Come inside,” Stan orders, pulling me inside the house and shutting the door. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Do you think I’d still fucking be here if I didn’t?” I shout, frustrated by the whole situation, “Why does he do this? He’s ruining everything.”

“I know,” Stan sighs.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know right now. I’m just gonna think about it in the morning. Do you want to stay here tonight?”

“Do you think Charlie will mind?” I ask, knowing how possessive and jealous he can get.

“Does it really matter what Charlie thinks?”