Charlie

Fever Pitch

Hey Jealousy- Gin Blossoms

The drive to Santa Barbara thus far had been quiet and scenic. You decided to drive your car for a few reasons, Charlie's hoopty car was a ride you were not willing to risk, plus you got better gas mileage. When you picked him up he didn't have much to say and his golden retriever spirit that usually rose when he was around you stayed grounded. He didn't look angry or upset but that didn't mean nothing was wrong. You hadn't seen him in a few days but he did call you last night to make sure you packed everything he thought you may need. It was sweet really the way he looked after you, made sure you had enough underwear and that you didn't forget your sunscreen. He seemed fine then, teasing you like he would.

"If I have to buy hotel sunscreen I may have to file for bankruptcy."

"I packed it, promise." You pouted back, playfully.

"Good girl."

You stewed in the silence for a little while, letting the sound of the blinker fill the car before you pushed play on your music. It had crossed your mind to probe, to ask what was wrong but honestly, you were already feeling vulnerable in the situation. This unspoken rule you'd stupidly set up for yourself when it came to Charlie.

You weren't defining the relationship.

It was something you avoided like people used to avoid the plague. You knew it was the wrong thing to do to let him sit there in a less than happy state but your anxiety had already been on high and you didnt think you could take his burden any better than he was handling it, whatever it was. You tried to convince yourself it was all in your head, but that didn't make you feel any better. Wanting to be open and honest with Charlie was what you wanted, walking on eggshells was less than ideal. You knew this insecurity you felt when it came to him couldn't sustain the relationship but right now it was all too delicate.

Your constant calls to Victoria and Steph this week with outfit approvals, and the way you'd packed and unpacked your outfits four times was a vice you had been using to focus that nervous energy on, and now you were keeping it all between your fists. White knuckled and holding the steering wheel at ten and two adjusting your grip and flexing your fingers each time you got the urge to break the thick silence between you.

He'd taken control of the trip in every other possible way. Booking the room, planning activities and food, and telling you absolutely nothing about any of it. Your control was the car and the playlist which you flooded with The Beach Boys, naturally. When California Girls played and he didn't so much as humm you revaluated your avoidance technique.

"Are you okay, Charlie?" It was barely audible but enough for the two of you to hear as the song ended.

"What?- oh, uh yeah, Angel. I'm fine."

"You're distracted?" You asked though you meant it as more of a statement. The ability you'd found to bite your lip had gone. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm really fine," He cooed looking over at you and placing his open palm on your knee. A rush of relief filled your nervous gut. "Don't worry about me- - All I care about right now is making sure that we're okay." You smiled at his reassurance letting the weight of his hand on your leg bring you some solace, a tiny semblance of stability.

"You didn't sing along to California Girls." You affirmed using a playful authoritative voice. "How can you be okay and not sing along?"

"I don't actually know that song, sweetheart." Your eyes went wide with shock.

"Everyone knows The Beach Boys."

"I am more of a Beatles fan myself." He dismissed looking back down at his phone. An unjustified pang of jealousy coursed through you.