12. Charlie
Charlie
Brody: Can we talk?
Charlie: Why? I have nothing to say.
Brody: I was drunk.
Charlie: Congratulations
Brody: Please come over.
Payton saw that last message flash across my screen and lost it.
She stormed into the bathroom and screamed at me.
I cut my shower short, and now I’m standing in my bedroom, with emo music as background noise, and wrapped in a towel dripping from head to toe.
Soapy bubbles remain on my shoulders, and I didn’t even get the chance to condition my hair.
Payton’s blood-red in the face. The blue veins on her peachy-white hands pulsate. Her feet stomp back and forth, wearing cozy pajama pants and a tank top she stole from me.
All I did was take a shower in an attempt to wash off our afternoon swim fest, but she poured the memories of graduation night on top of my head.
I should've flipped my phone over, or told her that looking at my personal messages is a huge violation of privacy. Then again, we are like family. She’s looking out for me.
“I just want to hear what he has to say,” I tell Payton with a mouth so dry it feels like a desert.
“You shouldn’t even give him the time of day to say one word!
He doesn’t deserve anymore of your time and energy.
” Payton throws her hands up into the air.
“You should tell him to piss off and block him for good. It shouldn’t be that hard.
” Her fierce eyes look straight into me like this whole ordeal should be easy, and I can wipe my hands clean of Brody.
I tighten my grip on the towel and look down at my feet tapping in the puddle of water forming around me. “It’s over between us.”
“You say that now like every other time you ‘break up with him’,” Payton air quotes and I roll my eyes, biting my tongue so I don’t tell her to get out of my room. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’re back together and you forgive him, and you love him.”
I rub my temples, feeling the oncoming headache.
I’m nauseated, and my stomach is empty. I’m positive I need to drink twenty gallons of water and take Tylenol to tackle the hangover I have.
I’ve been stealing Mom’s vodka, indulging when she isn’t looking.
I’ve had a bad habit of smoking cigarettes too, and the pain is already in my lungs.
My alarm clock on the nightstand says it’s past twelve.
Payton and I have been inseparable for the past four nights in a row, but by the way she’s acting, we need some space.
It’s about time she packed her duffel bag and gave me room to breathe.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I get you’re worried, but I can handle myself.” I can’t look her in the eyes, so I move my gaze to my dusty cheerleading trophies.
I don’t know why it’s been so hard to let Brody go. There are plenty of nights I question my sanity on that very thought and at this point I think there's something wrong with me.
“I’m tired of you being hurt by him,” Payton says.
“I’m not going to get back with him.” I melt onto the stool in front of my vanity, gazing at the chaos of different shades of lipstick, eyeshadow palettes, and all the makeup brushes in desperate need of cleaning.
“He’s done shit like this before. You’ve seen his true colors plenty of times. It’s like he has a five-second rebound rate, and he’s fucking the next chick messaging him.”
“You act like I don’t realize that.” I secure the towel better as chilly water from my hair glides down my neck to my collarbone.
“Because you don’t.” She blinks a million times.
“Look, I don’t even know if he’s slept with anyone else other than Brittni.
All I want is to hear what he has to say.
It doesn’t mean we are getting back together.
It doesn’t mean I'm going to forgive him, either. It hasn’t even been two weeks, and you're on my ass.” I clench my fists together hard enough to leave nail marks in the palms of my hands. “I need closure. That’s it.”
Payton’s cell phone buzzes on my rose-pink comforter. “Ugh!” She snatches the phone, tilting her head back. “It’s my mum,” she says with that little New England accent she has. Payton answers the call and uses one finger to cover up her other ear.
Her mother starts ranting on the other end, and I can only make out some words, but it’s about time she forces her to go back home. Payton lets out an exaggerated groan before throwing the phone back on the bed and plopping down onto the mattress.
“I have to go...” She ruffles the tangled bird’s nest of hair on the back of her head.
“We can plan something in a few days.” I flash her a friendly smile.
“Promise me you won’t get back together with him.”
“I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Right...” Payton starts gathering her belongings scattered around the room while I dig around my dresser to find something decent to wear.
By the time I get changed and brush out the knots in my hair, she’s packed up.
The weight in my chest is freed when she zips her duffle bag, throwing it over a shoulder.
She fiddles with an ugly antique Walkman, plugging in her cheap headphones.
I don’t know how many times I’ve told her to toss that thing into a dumpster, but she’s adamant about clinging to it.
“I love you...” I hug and kiss her on the cheek before she strolls out of my bedroom. When the front door opens and closes, I collapse onto my bed, the cold comforter stealing the heat from my body.
I’m at the zombie level of exhaustion. Brody cheating and Payton up my ass again is feeding the ugly emotions eating away at my insides like termites on rotten wood.
When we snuck back in that night, Payton had no problem zonking out while I stared up at my ceiling, watching the eerie green in my glow-in-the-dark-stars fade.
The blue hour of morning was when I finally found a good three hours of sleep, but when I woke up, reality crept in and my heart ached.
All I wanted to do was rip it out and put it on the nightstand until I was ready to deal with it.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I yank it off the charger.
Noah: You gonna come see me tomorrow?
Charlie: Convince me, and maybe I will.
Noah: I’ll buy you a drink.
Charlie: Classy. Is that how you land girls?
Noah: Not quite.
He sends me the address of a random bar nearly fifty minutes away. Not exactly a charming drive, but maybe I need something different to do than moping around in my bedroom.
Brody: Come on Baby I miss you.
Charlie: Stop texting me, I don’t want to see you.