Chapter 20 Charlie
Head throbbing, Charlie groans, trying to drown out the strange buzzing sound filling his ears. For a moment, his sleep-addled brain is sure he dreamed it, but then the buzzing sound gets louder and more noticeable until not even the pillow over his head is enough to drown it out.
Every inch of Charlie’s body protests when he moves, possibly because of the tequila he drank last night, or maybe because he’s all but lived in this bed for the last few days, only getting up to piss or feed his pets.
Squinting at the clock on his side table, Charlie curses. It’s barely eight in the morning, way too early to be awake. Against his own desires, he crawls out of bed, bleary eyed and cranky as he stumbles towards the bedroom window.
Pulling the curtain back, he’s surprised to find Jason standing outside his bedroom window with a goddamn lawn mower idling beside him.
Charlie unlocks the window, shoving it open and blinking against the onslaught of sunlight. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jason pauses, turning towards the house and smiling. “Good morning, Charlie.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me, asshole.” Charlie’s head pounds, his mouth like sandpaper. He’s not sure he’s ever been this hungover—or this unhappy. He wants to crawl back in bed and forget the whole world exists. “What are you doing?”
“Mowing your lawn,” Jason grins. “It was overgrown as shit.”
“I can see that,” Charlie sighs, rubbing his temples. “Why?”
“Because you don’t take care of your yard.”
“Not why is it overgrown,” Charlie lashes out. “Why the fuck are you here mowing it? It’s too goddamn early.”
“Oh, because Andrew told me to,” Jason says, entire body brightening when Theo appears holding two donuts. He passes one to Jason who hums happily, sprinkles tumbling down onto his hoodie when he takes a massive bite.
“Oh, hey, Charlie.” Theo smiles, as if there is anything to smile about. “Morning.”
“Why are you here too?”
“Charlie’s a little cranky,” Jason pipes up, “don’t take it personally.”
“Um, okay.” Theo takes a bite of his donut, eating it far more neatly than Jason. “Did you want a donut? There's more inside.”
“No, I don’t want a fucking donut. I want you two to go away.”
“Can’t,” Jason says around another mouthful. “We’re on yard duty.”
“Did Andrew tell you that?” Charlie asks, debating killing his twin for this treachery. He told Andrew last night he was going to drink himself stupid and stay in bed all weekend.
“Yes,” Jason answers.
“Alec is making me help,” Theo offers, inching closer to Jason.
“What the fuck does Alec have to do with this?”
“Alec is inside cooking while Andrew cleans.”
“What the fuck?” Charlie groans. “Go away.”
“Can’t. Between the two of you, I’m definitely listening to Andrew,” Jason shrugs, managing to shove the rest of his donut into his mouth before returning his attention to the lawn mower.
“You’re gonna listen to Andrew over me, too?” Charlie glares at Theo.
“No.” He takes a bite of his donut, chewing slowly. “But I’m definitely listening to Alec.”
“Fuck you both,” Charlie groans, slamming his window shut then yanking the curtain closed.
Before he can leave his bedroom to demand answers from his meddling brothers, the door opens and his light is flipped on, taking him from half-awake to fully awake against his own free will.
“Good, you're awake.”
“Only because of you,” Charlie gripes.
Ignoring his outburst, Andrew moves into the room collecting Charlie’s discarded clothes from the floor before shoving them into the hamper in the corner. Suddenly, Charlie doesn’t want answers, or to deal with his brothers, he wants to hide in bed and ignore everything and everyone.
Flashbacks of his conversation with Andrew after the Friendsgiving fiasco flood his mind.
How broken Andrew had looked, how hurt Charlie had been at not knowing that someone he considered a friend had hurt the person he loved most in the world, and the guilt of having been the one to keep him in their lives and invite him there.
Despite their lengthy conversation, it was hard to reconcile his own mess of feelings. It was hard to acknowledge that he’d been flippant and oblivious enough that Andrew had kept something so painful to himself for so long.
In typical Andrew fashion, he’d tried to brush it under the rug and move on, but Charlie hadn’t let him.
Except finding out that Andrew had spent a good chunk of their lives feeling inferior to Charlie, like the second choice twin, had not made Charlie feel better.
If anything, it made him feel ten times worse.
Andrew swears he doesn’t blame Charlie or hold grudges, but Charlie knows it’s going to be a long time before he can forget.
Last night, he’d promised himself to be better, to do better, but then he started thinking about Andrew’s lost expression when he’d shared his feelings after Zach left. He’d thought about Eden walking away. Then he didn’t want to do or be anything, thus drinking himself into oblivion.
Now in the light of day all the memories are still there along with a wicked hangover.
“I’m going back to sleep, Andrew. Go away and make everyone leave.”
“No.”
“Fine, then talk to me.”
“Are we going to talk about how you’re avoiding your feelings and need to deal with this shit with Eden?”
“I was thinking we could talk about how you repress your feelings and didn’t tell me how you really felt for fifteen years, Annie.”
“It’s not a big deal, I'm over it.”
“Well I’m not over it,” Charlie groans, unsure if he’s more hurt by Andrew’s omission or ashamed at his own behavior for making Andrew feel like he couldn’t share.
“Well get over it.”
“That is not how feelings work.”
“It’s how mine work. I decided I’m over it so I am.”
“No, you decided you don’t want to feel anything anymore, and you’re repressing it.”
“Says the man who has been using cheap tequila to ignore his own feelings.”
“You have no idea why I’ve been drinking,” Charlie says, even though he knows that out of everyone in his life Andrew is probably the only person who always understands him.
“Let me guess, you were angry and embarrassed and decided that not dealing with how you make other people feel would be easier than being sober.”
“Fuck you, Annie.”
Andrew’s expression softens, and he crosses the room, pulling Charlie into a hug. He resists at first then lets Andrew hold him up, sinking into the embrace the same way he did when they were kids.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie mumbles.
“Me too,” Andrew whispers.
“Ugh, my head hurts,” Charlie whines when the sound of the lawnmower outside kicks on. “I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me, your blood sugar levels are out of whack from poor nutrition and too much alcohol, and you’re cranky because you miss Eden.”
Hearing Eden’s name makes Charlie’s heart twist uncomfortably. He’s angry and hurt but most of all sad. So goddamn sad. Which is exactly why he’s isolated himself the last few days so he doesn’t have to think or feel.
“It’s okay to miss him, you know, and to be sad. That’s a normal human emotion.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Charlie snaps, cycling from guilty to sad to angry. Tequila is evil, and he should never drink it again. He is way too hungover to handle such a wide spectrum of emotions.
Andrew hums, nonreactive despite Charlie’s tantrum. “Go take a long shower, you smell horrible.”
Charlie flips him off with both hands, too mad to even speak. Who the fuck does Andrew think he is? He can’t make Charlie shower if he doesn’t want to.
“Also,” Andrew continues, moving towards Charlie’s bed where he sets about stripping the sheets and blankets off to wash, “you need to shave. You look like a grizzly bear.”
“Fuck. You.”
“Okay,” Andrew calmly replies, bustling around the room to open the curtains. He waves to Theo and Jason, which only serves to make Charlie more annoyed. He’s surrounded by meddling assholes.
“Just go away and leave me alone,” Charlie groans.
“I gave you a week, your time is up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I gave you a week,” Andrew calmly replies. “Eden left last Saturday. Today is Sunday. I made a note to myself to give you a week to wallow, and now it’s time to move on.”
“You can’t fucking schedule people’s emotional breakdowns,” Charlie argues, reaching for the closest thing he can find—a single Croc peeking out from under his bed—and chucking it at Andrew’s head.
Andrew ducks, so the Croc ends up slamming into the wall, hitting one of his favorite paintings and sending it crashing to the floor. Thankfully, it’s only canvas so nothing breaks, but it dislodges something in Charlie. Fuck. Everything is so fucked.
“Get off the floor and shower, Charlie.”
“You can’t fucking make me,” Charlie asserts, fully prepared to rot on the floor.
“I can’t, you’re right, but if I ask Jason and Theo to come in and—”
“Fine,” Charlie snaps, absolutely refusing to suffer the humiliation of having his younger brother put him in the fucking shower, because there’s no doubt Jason could both pick him up and that he’d do it if Andrew told him to.
“Good. There are towels in there and a new razor. I’m going to start another load of laundry. Come out when you’re done. Me and Alec need to talk to you.”
“What if I don’t want to talk to either one of you?”
“Then you can sit there like the sulky asshole you’ve been all week and listen to us because we’re talking to you.”
“You’re so fucking bossy, Annie.”
“Go.”
Some of the fight goes out of him as he drags his sad, sorry ass off the floor.
He doesn’t want to do this, but there’s literally no arguing with Andrew when he’s set his mind to something, and he’s apparently set his mind to Charlie getting over Eden.
Which isn’t going to happen. Just thinking about him makes Charlie’s chest ache like he’s been physically hit.
Is this how Alec felt for years about Theo?
How the fuck did he survive this kind of rejection and heartache when a week of it has Charlie ready to give up on everything, including himself?