What He Left Behind

That lunchtime, I sit with Amber and her friends as usual. There are five of us altogether and from what I’ve seen so far, they’re really nice. Amber’s happy all the time and she’s so sweet and easy to talk to. Harlee-Indigo Parker is probably one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met. Her fiery red hair hangs in perfect waves and her style is unique but she pulls it off. She can sing and play guitar and she loves Fall Out Boy as much as I do. She’s confident and assertive, but I can tell if she and I ever disagree on something, all hell would break lose. I never lose a fight, and apparently she doesn’t either.

Then there’s Harlee’s boyfriend Keegan Tyler. I can’t deny he’s good looking, although I wouldn’t have paired him and Harlee together; they’re complete opposites. He’s cute and dorky and weird, but a total sweetheart. He’s a pushover though. It doesn’t take a genius to see who wears the trousers in that relationship.

Finally there’s Tristan Wild. He’s good looking too. He’s really sweet and funny; perfect best friend material. He hits on girls a lot, but I wouldn’t exactly call him a womanizer the way Charlie is. He’s more of a harmless flirt. He’s good at advice and he’s polite and he’s lovable, the ideal boyfriend for a lot of girls.

“Hey sugar,” Harlee greets me.

“Hi,” I smile, sitting down next to her.

“Don’t get too close,” she smirks, “I don’t want you passing Charlie’s diseases onto me.” I laugh and roll my eyes.

“You heard that?” I ask, referring to my run in with Coral and her friends earlier on in the day.

“Yeah,” she laughs, “I was gonna step in but it looked like you handled Coral pretty well yourself.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” she exclaims, “You’re a sassy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Looks like you’re no longer top dog then Harlee,” Tristan remarks.

“Oh please, I will always be the queen of sass,” she declares, flashing her signature smirk, “So did
you actually sleep with Charlie?”

“No!” I gasp.

“Good, I’d kill you if you got to him first.”

“Babe, I’m literally sitting right here,” Keegan interjects, an exasperated look on his face. Everyone
at the table laughs. Harlee winks at her boyfriend before turning her attention back to the rest of us.

“Come on, this is thee Charlie Hemmingway though. You can’t deny he’s the most attractive person to walk this planet…besides me of course.”

“Still here,” Keegan reminds her, shaking his head.

“Sorry. You know I love you baby,” she giggles, leaning in to kiss him.

“Get a room,” Tristan jokes, pretending to be sick. Harlee deepens the kiss, sticking her middle finger up at Tristan.

“Admit it; you ship ‘Keelee’ more than I do. You’re just jealous because you can’t get anyone,” Harlee retorts when she finally pulls away from Keegan.

“Shut up can I not get anyone,” he frowns, “I could get any girl I wanted.”

“Then why don’t you?” I counter.

“Because I don’t want to make this one over here jealous,” he teases, wrapping his arm around Amber’s shoulders.

“Tristan you wish,” Amber laughs, shoving him away from her. They continue to bicker throughout lunch. I don’t speak much, not for any reason other than that I enjoy watching how they interact with one another. Their constant squabbling and insults are funny and a couple of years ago I’d have had no problem forming a really close friendship with them. The whole concept of making friends is foreign to me now though.

“Noelle, can I talk to you a minute?” I glance over my shoulder to see Charlie sauntering over to our table in the cafeteria.

“Sure,” I agree, getting out of my seat. Harlee gives me a knowing smirk and I shake my head at her as Charlie leads me out of the cafeteria.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “You wanna hang out with us this weekend?”

“Not if you’re gonna be getting high.”

“It’s a bit of fun. Are you scared?”
I scoff, annoyed at how ridiculous he’s being.

“It’s not a case of being scared Charlie,” I snap, “Do you have any idea how much drugs fuck up your life? They don’t do any good for anyone.”

“They work for me,” he points out.

“They work because they make you feel good for ten minutes?”

“Sometimes fifteen,” he teases, successfully winding me up even more.

“Let’s talk about this again in a couple of years, shall we, when you’re hopelessly hooked or suffering
in hospital or banged up in prison.”

Charlie looks at my quizzically, clearly wondering whether there’s something more to my extreme hatred of substance abuse. For a minute, I think he’s going to ask me about it, but then he must decide otherwise.

“I heard you had a run in with Coral and the clones earlier,” Charlie declares, skilfully changing the
subject.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I assure dryly.

“I don’t doubt that. What did she say?”

“Something about how you have a load of diseases,” I say nonchalantly.

“Caught most of ‘em from her,” he smirks, “Dumb slag.” A blunt laugh escapes my lips. He seems
so unfazed by everything.

“For the record, I don’t have any diseases,” he adds.

“Are you sure about that? Judging by your reputation, I wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Never judge a person by their reputation sweetie,” he winks before stalking off, “I’ll pick you up
Saturday evening then.” I sigh in defeat, feeling flustered and confused. Never in my life have I
gotten so caught up over a guy, especially not a jerk like Charlie that I’ve barely known two weeks. He’s just so infuriating and intoxicating and he has me completely hypnotised by his charm and his good looks and it drives me insane because that’s exactly what he wants. I don’t even know him and he knows just how to get under my skin.

For a few moments I stand alone in the corridor, allowing my heart beat to return to normal and trying to get my breath back, and then I go back into the cafeteria, wondering why the hell this boy has such an effect on me.

-

The rumour about Charlie and me soon fizzles out. After all, news of Charlie sleeping with someone isn’t exactly ground-breaking. Thursday evening is when things start to go downhill. I feel that familiar feeling of despair coming on as soon as I get through the door, so I try to do some schoolwork in an attempt to distract myself.

Unfortunately, I find my mind drifting to Charlie and this weekend. And then I find myself wondering if it will be like last weekend when they all got high and Charlie started acting like a dick. And then suddenly I’m back to thinking about Austin. Just like always. Even after all this time, every train of thought leads back to him, one way or another.

Suddenly I can hear his voice in the back of my mind and I can see his face as though he were here in front of me and I can smell his scent as though he never left at all. And then my whole body starts to tremble but I can’t feel his arms closing around me in an embrace that makes me feel like everything will be okay. That’s what I want more than anything. I could cope without seeing his sullen and defeated face and I could cope without hearing his shaky and despairing voice and I sure as hell could cope without smelling his tobacco and alcohol ridden scent. But what I can’t cope without is him hugging me so tightly when I’m sad that I forget what was wrong in the first place.
That was my favourite thing about him. He was the only person that could cheer me up without even trying. Just his mere presence was enough to make my day wonderful, and that’s not me being biased; other people used to think that too. You could see it when he walked in a room and everyone’s eyes lit up. And when he laughed everyone would laugh with him. And when he was happy, everyone else was happy too.

But then he got ill and everyone forgot. Everyone forgot how brightly his eyes used to shine and everyone forgot how kind and generous he was and everyone forgot how he seemed to radiate happiness. Everyone but me.

He kept on making me happy right up until the very end. Even on the last day, he hugged me so tightly that I forgot for a second that we were in a mess too big to get out of.

I collapse onto the bed, curling up into a ball and masking my sobs with a pillow. I miss him. I miss Austin with every piece of me. I know it takes time to overcome grief, but I still miss him just as much as I did the day he died, if not more.

The guilt is relentless and debilitating. What ifs are useless, believe me, but it doesn’t stop me thinking them. What if I’d done this and what if I hadn’t have done that? I’ve lost track of how many 3ams I’ve spent asking myself those questions.

For a long time, I lay there sobbing, overthinking and catastrophizing everything, until it gets to the point I feel I might be physically sick. I don’t cry often, but when I start I don’t stop. I rush to the bathroom just in time to spew the contents of my stomach up into the toilet.
It must be getting late for I hear my father get home from work and come upstairs to bed. He doesn’t come to check if I’m okay. He doesn’t care to help me the same way he didn’t care to help Austin. It’s as though he thinks burying his head in the sand and ignoring the problem will eventually make it go away.

Sometimes I wonder if my parents would even care if they lost me too. Would they finally realise they fucked up or would they just move to a new place and pretend as though I never existed? That’s what they did with Austin. No one in this town knows of him, besides whichever teachers have read my transfer files, and no one ever will. The three of us don’t speak of him and aside from a single shoe box of belongings in the attic, there is no evidence of his very existence. Almost twenty years of life with nothing but a single shoe box to show for it. It’s so not what he deserved.

-

After laying awake most of the night dwelling on things, I get up feeling even worse than I did the night before. I know for sure my emotions are far too volatile for me to get through the day, and there’s no way I’m risking having a breakdown or losing it with someone. I hate people seeing me cry and I struggle to control my temper at the best of times.

My dad has left for work of course and my mum is too sad to even know what day it is, so neither of them will know if I’ve been to school or not. I guess that’s the plus side of having parents like mine; you can pull a sickie whenever you feel like it.

I text Amber to let her know I’m not coming in and around lunchtime, I get a text from Charlie asking where I am. I tell him I have a fever.

Common side effect of those diseases, sorry about that ;) You still coming on Saturday though?
I know he won’t take a straight no for an answer so I tell him it depends if I feel any better, even though I know for sure I won’t be. It takes me days to get my head together again when I get down in a rut like this. And Charlie is someone I most definitely need to have my head together around. I can’t for one second let his stupid good looks and charm cloud my judgement.

My phone buzzes, signalling Charlie’s reply.

'Okay doll, hope you feel better soon x'