38. Charlie
Charlie
Isit on the edge of Payton’s bed, staring at the worn, pink princess sheets. If I still had mine, I would be mortified. They needed to be set on fire, and knowing her, they were coming with us to the dorms.
Her room looks like it lost a fight with itself. Half-packed totes were scattered across the floor, spilling out with hoodies, tangled chargers, and a million CDs she’s collected. Another tote sits in front of her dresser. It has clothes tossed in it like they had been shot from a cannon.
Payton paces around, back and forth, holding a crumbled trash bag in one hand and yanking open her dresser drawers with the other.
Somewhere in the corner, the vacuum cleaner has been running for over ten minutes straight.
I scoot myself off the mattress and press the power button on the vacuum so my ears can finally breathe.
Payton flinches slightly. “Shoot, I forgot I left that on.” Payton placed the trash bag on the floor and bent on a knee to yank the plug from the wall, winding the black cord with jerky movements.
“God, I need to take this out.” She doesn’t even finish winding up the cord and her pacing resumes, grabbing the trash bag again.
“Ugh... I’m almost done with my closet.”
I sit back down on the bed, tucking my legs under me. My stomach felt tight, like I’d swallowed something sharp.. “So... about the other night.” I say, biting my bottom lip the second the words leave my mouth.
Payton freezes mid-step. “Yeah... what about it?” Her tone is casual, but with a hint of tension behind it.
She scurries to the closet and yanks a sweatshirt off the hanger with too much force and starts to fold it like it had done something to offend her.
Then she shoves it into the tote, still refusing to look at me.
“I’m sorry, truly I am. I wasn’t thinking… I just…” I say.
“It’s fine…”
“No it’s not. I love you so much. I shouldn’t have put you through that.
” I watch her, my pulse flickering under my skin.
“What happened when I left the room? Did you... land on someone during Roulette?” I ask.
She pauses for a heartbeat. Her eyes flicker across the room, scanning everything and nothing, before she shakes her head and grabs another handful of clothes.
It’s like my question bounced off the walls instead of hitting her.
“Are you mad at me or something?” I ask.
“No... and no,” she snaps, throwing her palms up. “I just need to finish packing.”
“I’m serious.”
Payton drops the clothes. Just letting them fall to her feet like dead weight. “I’m fine!” she snaps. The words break through the quiet like a slamming door. Her chest rises and falls fast. Her hands curl into fist at her sides, but she loosens them just as quickly.
My heart sinks somewhere behind my ribs.“Well... I’m gonna go then.” I point my head toward the door, and she doesn’t say anything to keep me planted in her room. She stands there with arms stiff, and a tight jaw.
“Okay...” she says, and it hurts worse than if she’d screamed.
I stroll out and shut her bedroom door behind me.
The soft click of it landed heavier than it should have.
I’m halfway down the hall before Ryder’s voice hits me like a brick.
You’re a shitty-ass friend. It feels like I'm swallowing broken glass. My hands are numb as my sides as I stroll out of the trailer she lives in and I rush to the Honda, getting in. I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and text Noah. He might be the only thing to take my mind off what I’ve potentially put Payton through.
Charlie: Can I come see you?
Noah: Sure. Bring a swimsuit.
Charlie: Be there soon.
I head home and immediately paw through one dresser, debating which swimsuit to use. I could go for hot pink, the leopard pattern, maybe the ones with polka dots, but I end up picking the black one. Noah likes black, so maybe he’ll like me in black.
As I drive over to Omen’s house, my head spins with different scenarios on how I can make up for my obsessive-compulsive calling the other day.
I did need to earn brownie points, not be so mentally unhinged.
There’s no doubt he thinks of me as some nut job.
Clearly putting my breasts in his face, and messing around with him isn't going to win him over.
When I park on the opposite side of the road, I immediately step into a mini concert – the guitar strums, the drums pound, clashing onto the cymbals.
The garage door is only partially open, but the gap is large enough for me to duck under.
Noah sits on a swivel stool, using one foot to sway back and forth as he clicks his mouse pad on the computer. “This song is done, though it’s still not as clean as I would like it to be.” Noah presses his lips together with his face inches from the screen.
“We don’t have a recording studio.” Omen leans over with his hands on his thighs.
Noah glances up, and he’s wearing a gold pair of vintage round eyeglasses. I’m taken aback by them. I didn’t realize he needed glasses. They're straight out of Harry Potter. The nerds wear those, and my heart is beating ten times faster, and I’m sweating.
“Hey...” Noah gives me half a smile.
“What did I say about the demo?” Omen licks his bottom lip.
“We have three songs recorded. We can record two more and pick which ones are the best,” Noah says as Omen shakes his head and walks off, kicking the garage door open and storming into the house. Tony and Vince follow and when it seals shut, Noah runs a hand through his face.
“Sorry, did I come at a bad time?” I ask and then point a thumb at the Honda. “I can leave if you need to finish recording. I don’t want to be in the way.”
I step back, clenching onto my bag filled with swim gear, but Noah is quick to use his feet, scooting closer to me, the wheels struggling to roll across the floor littered with black wires and amps. He reaches out and manages to grasp the seam of my tank top, stopping me from leaving.
“No, he’s uptight. I think he wants this more than I do...but...”
I step forward, and he leans his face into my belly, his hot breath seeping through the fabric. He grasps my waist and it sends shockwaves through my body.
“But what?” I ask.
“What if a stage becomes a prison? I don’t want everyone knowing my face, but then so many people do now. And for fuck's sakes we are recording in a garage.”
“Isn’t being a lead singer your dream?”
“Yes and no. I just have fans that are making me and the band their entire life, and sometimes I just want to buy a cabin in the woods and just never come back.”
I run my fingers through his brown hair, shining in the dim orange light. It’s silky smooth as there isn’t a single knot my hands get caught up in.
“My back is killing me. Do you want to get changed and we can chill for a bit?” he asks, glancing up at me with his dark brown eyes glowing. His lips are a perfect shade of pink. He’s shaved off the patches on his face, but there's a little stubble on his skin and upper lip.
“Yeah.”
He pats a hand on my waist before scooting the stool away, and standing up.
I follow behind him as he hits the garage door button, closing it shut and leading me inside.
Tony and Vince are playing a game of pool in the living room.
Beers pile up on the dining table and kitchen counter.
A black labrador sits with its head perked up, its tongue sticking out as it breathes heavily, and its tail wags back and forth.
I dip down the hallway and head into the bathroom to change. After spending too much time in the mirror fixing my hair and putting a new shade of lipstick on, I step out into the hallway, almost feeling completely naked.
I practically tiptoed to the sliding glass door, and it’s heavier than I expected. I have to use two hands to pry it open with a whoosh. Laughter fills the summer air, and I step out onto the concrete with bare feet.
Noah’s arms are spread over the hot tub with his head tilted back.
Omen steps in with two other girls having giggle fits.
They have beer in hand, and it’s like I’ve been thrown into a movie I wasn’t cast in.
Water splashes as the dark hair girl with fair skin slips in.
She trips and uses Noah to steady herself.
When his hands grasp her waist, she stumbles and falls into the tub.
I recognize her... The girl sucking him off at that party.
The other girl with beach blonde hair who I don’t give two shits about, sits next to Omen, sipping her beer.
I step to the edge of the tub, its jets bubble. The air was thick with the smell of chlorine. I tap my fingers along the edge, and the sound of their easy banter washes over me, making me feel small and out of place.
“Hi!” the dark hair girl says. She got those short, perfect pixie bangs and they actually work on her. “I love your swimsuit. You’re so pretty.” Her cheeks are rose pink as she brings her shoulders to face.
“Thank you,” I say back but all I can think about is her sucking off Noah.
“This is Amy.” Noah tilts his head to her. “Tony’s sister, she comes over every once in a while.” Then he snaps his finger pointing at the blonde.
“Blake.” She bites her lip but turns her attention back to Omen, pressing her palm against his chest. She’s one of the girls from the party, the one Omen left with.
Oxygen fills my lungs back up as I don’t want to mention I recognize her. “Oh.” I glance back at Amy, she's pretty in her own unique way. Her tits are way smaller than mine, she’s much skinner, her face thinner, but her blue eyes are huge, and those definitely are her natural long lashes.
She’s touched Noah too. The thought claws at my throat and she's right next to him, and I feel ugly inside, an old feeling creeps into my chest and crawls all over my skin.