What He Left Behind

Charlie doesn’t turn up to homeroom the day and neither does Stan, so I assume they’re both bunking. Throughout the class, I am constantly distracted by the three girls behind me whispering, one of whom is the girl Coral that the guys were talking about the other night at the gig. That much is obvious by the fact they’re wearing more make-up than they are clothes and that they’re glaring at me as though I’ve done something wrong.

Girls like that are so petty I can’t help but find it funny. At my old school, it seemed like whatever I did got me talked about and therefore I quickly found myself winding people up intentionally just to stir the pot. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy I guess. Perhaps that makes me just as petty as them but it seems a better option than getting upset over gossip and bitchiness.

When the bell rings, I pick up my things and leave the room, but I only get a few metres down the hall before I’m stopped.

“Noelle!” a voice behind me calls. I turn around to see Coral and the two other girls from homeroom catching up with me.

“Hey,” I enthuse with a false grin.

“That didn’t take long,” Coral smirks.

“What’s that?” I ask, playing dumb to wind her up.

“You and Charlie,” she laughs, as though it should be obvious. There’s a spiteful tone to her voice which I guarantee is her feeble attempt at trying to intimidate me. If only she knew I’ve dealt with things a lot scarier than jealous teenage girls.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re thinking,” I tell her, “I have standards.”

“That’s weird because everyone’s saying you did.”

“That’s weird because if it did happen, which it didn’t, everyone wouldn’t have been there,” I state matter-of-factly.

“I just hope for your sake that he wrapped up; the amount of people he’s slept with, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got some sort of disease.” She really is scraping the barrel of fights to pick, isn’t she?

“Catch them from you, did he?”

Coral opens her mouth to respond but either she second guesses herself or can’t think of anything to say. I don’t know how exactly she was expecting me to respond but I can’t work out why no one stands up to people around this place. I, for one, will not be pushed around or walked all over by anyone, particularly not a bunch of Barbies. Well aware of the fact I’m a couple of inches taller than her, I step closer to where she is standing, so that there is only a small amount of space between us.

“Don’t try and intimidate me honey. We all know Charlie doesn’t care half as much for you as you do for him.”

“You don’t know a thing about me and Charlie,” she attempts to argue, the look on her face telling me that even she knows it’s a lame response.

“I know what Charlie’s told me,” I retaliate, deciding not to give away anything more than that. Leaving her to sweat it out is a much more enticing idea. Coral takes a step away from me and her friends look awkwardly between the two of us.

“I’ll see you around hun,” I smirk, knocking into her shoulder as I walk away.

People make it too goddamn easy.

---

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 the happy-go-lucky type, always being thoughtful and friendly and considerate. Harlee-Indigo Parker is 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 placid, 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 and seems to hit on girls a lot, but I wouldn’t call him a womanizer the way Charlie is. Instead he’s more of a harmless flirt, like the gay best friend that isn’t actually gay. He’s sweet and funny and good at advice and always respectful; that type of guy friend that every girl needs.

“Hey sugar,” Harlee greets me.

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

“Don’t get too close,” she teases, “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 admits, “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 babe,” 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.

“Not true,” he argues, “I could get any girl I wanted.”

“Then why don’t you?” I counter, genuinely intrigued as to why he doesn’t date when he’s at no shortage of options.

“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. Now though, the whole concept of making friends is foreign to me. I’m a little cold and closed off which often means I isolate myself. It’s a habit I hope I can learn to break.

“Noelle, can I talk to you a minute?” I glance over my shoulder to see Charlie sauntering over to our table in the cafeteria. So he did turn up to school eventually then, it would seem.

“Sure,” I agree unenthusiastically, 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?”

“I’ll have to let you know.” Despite the fact I do genuinely enjoy hanging out with Charlie and his friends, I’m still cautious to the fact I’m supposed to be focusing on school, staying out of trouble, and saving for college. Hanging out with Charlie doesn’t seem to help me with any of those objectives.

“I heard you had a run in with Coral and the clones earlier,” Charlie mentions, abruptly 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. Dumb slut.” 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 turning to walk away. “I’ll pick you up Saturday evening then.”

I sigh in defeat, flustered and confused. Never in my life have I met anyone with such brazen self-assurance. It feels like he has a thousand different personalities that he alternates between. One minute he’s aggressive and hostile, the next he’s chatty and care-free. At school, his attitude stinks and he couldn’t care less but when it comes to his music, he dedicates himself to it like his life depends on it. It’s no wonder he has so many girls hooked; he takes that mysterious fictional-character-style bad boy image to a whole new level.

Personally, I haven’t met someone that gets under my skin the way he does, and yet, I still find myself somewhat intrigued to get to know him more. I blame it on the whole band thing. I’m a sucker for musicians. Unfortunately for me, the first one I’ve met in this town is a total ass rather than the sweet free-spirited quirky type I was hoping for.

---

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

However, my brain has other ideas. My thoughts drift to Charlie and his plans for this weekend. And then I find myself wondering if it will be like last weekend when they all got high. 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 Austin’s 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 the constant smell of alcohol and tobacco that clung to him by the end. 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. Merely his presence was enough to make an awful day brilliant, 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 spoke, everyone was captivated. 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 and hardworking 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 it made me forget that we were in a mess too big to get out of. Perhaps that was what made it harder to take in once the reality hit.

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. It comes in waves and each time I think I’m getting somewhere, it hits twice as hard, usually at the most inconvenient of times. I hate that I can’t control it and I hate that I don’t know when it’s going to hit me.

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? What if I’d have helped him more and argued with him less? 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 once the waterworks start, they take an age to 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 or ask how my day was. 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. It’s the thing I really don’t like about myself, not having control over my emotions. It makes me feel vulnerable and I hate it.

My dad has left for work of course and my mom 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 into 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. I must be in control.

My phone buzzes, signalling Charlie’s reply.

'Okay doll, hope you feel better soon x'