One Touch | Charlie Gillespie

T H I R T E E N

"Oh c'mon, Junes. Don't be mad, I didn't plan this to happen."

"I realized I'm in love with you," he says with a big frown on his forehead, completely out of nowhere.

Honestly, I don't know what to say and I don't know where this is coming from. I ask myself the question, am I really in love with Charlie? I mean, come on, it's Charlie. Charles Jeffrey Gillespie. Yes, we've slept together and yes, I might have a huge crush on him since the beginning, and yes, I confessed I'm in love with him to Madi... but my past doesn't stop following me. It is hard for me to catch feelings and trust someone after my previous relationship. The way my ex treated me is a way I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I know Charlie is not Michael— my horrible, disrespectful, psycho ex— but I still have trust issues, which means I don't trust anyone, not even my parents. The only person I trust is Quinn, because she's always been there for me, unlike my parents. And don't get me wrong, Charlie has always been there too, but I only know the guy for a week.

The sound of Charlie clearing his throat makes me snap out of my thoughts. "So... I guess that's a no. It's fine, I'll leave. Sorry for bothering you."

Shit, I've been silent for a little too long.

He stands up, but before he can walk away, I grab him by his arm. "Don't leave."

He looks surprised, but slowly settles back at the edge of my bed, where he had sat to comfort me. I sigh deeply, knowing I'm going to regret what I'm about to say next. "Charlie, I like you. A lot. But I'm not ready to get into a relationship yet. It has nothing to do with you, you've been great to me and I've treated you like a piece of shit."

I notice he wants to say something, but I quickly shush him down. "Remember last week, when we showed our notebooks to each other? I caught you looking at that poem, at the last page of the book, but I grabbed it away before you could read any further. Do you have any idea why?"

He shakes his head and keeps his mouth shut. I don't know what's on his mind, but he doesn't seem heartbroken yet. "It was about my ex," I sigh, swallowing the lump that's forming in my throat. "We were in a relationship for almost two years, but he— um he abused me," I say, my voice slightly trembling and looking down to hide my upcoming tears. Thinking about that time again is like jumping in a pool full of sharks. The fear rising inside of me, my air holes closing, dangerous sharks swimming in circles around me... and I should mention that the sharks are Michael.

It feels like a weight is lifted off my shoulders. Venting my heart is one of the best feelings to have. Although I don't really tell things about my past to anyone— except Quinn and my notebook— I tell myself to do it more often, because it is a great feeling.

"That's awful. I didn't know you had to go through that," he says shockingly. "And who does he think he is? If I knew where this motherfu—"

"Don't worry, he's gone and he's never coming back again," I cut him off. That makes him sigh in relief. "Better hope so, if he touches you one more time he's going down," Charlie threatens, clenching his fists. I smile and hug him. It's cute when he's trying to be the tough guy, because he's as soft as a baby's ass. But that's what I love about him.

"You're not mad?" I ask.

"Mad? Of course not, June. I'm so sorry this happened to you, and now I understand why you wouldn't let me read your poem." I let go of the hug and give him a little smile.

"No, that was because it's a bad poem. I was sad when I wrote it and my poems suck when I'm sad," I giggle. He chuckles and pulls me in for another hug.

"You know," he says, almost in a whisper, after a few moments of just cuddling and not talking. "You're the strongest person I know."

_____

C H A R L I E

I quietly close the door of June's room, not wanting to wake anyone up since it's nearly two o'clock in the morning. We had a very good conversation, and we came to the conclusion that we are both not ready for a relationship yet. To my surprise, I'm not sad, I'm not disappointed and I'm not heartbroken. Instead, our bond has grown much stronger and I'm glad to have her in my life.

She admitted that she likes me, and I am more than satisfied with that. Hearing about her past, what she went through, was enough for me to wait for her, even if it could take months. I just want her to feel safe and comfortable in my presence. I don't want her to be afraid.

With my head in the clouds, I walk into our apartment and head to my bedroom. But as I pass Owen's room, I hear the sound of two people making out. Who could that be? I figure I will ask Owen tomorrow, and I pray I won't hear any other sounds coming from that room while I'm trying to sleep.

_____

J U N E

After waking up, I jump out of bed a little too excited, ignoring the pain of my wounds. It's a new day, which means a fresh start. Yesterday was history, so I don't want to think about what happened. Today is a new opportunity to become a better person, live a better life and to stop worrying about unnecessary things.

Madison, Savannah and Quinn are probably still asleep. The doors of their rooms are closed and it's quite early in the morning. We happened to have a fourth bedroom for Quinn, so she wouldn't have to sleep on the couch.

As I'm making some cereal, the front door opened. It's Quinn, her hair tousled and her pants in her hands. She's only wearing a long t-shirt that falls like a dress, and a pair of socks. She closes the door, turns around and faces me.

"You up already?" she asks innocently. I stay silent and just stare out in front of me with no face expression, while I continue making my breakfast. "Oh c'mon, Junes. Don't be mad, I didn't plan this to happen."

"Who was it?"

She sighs. "The blond, tall guy. I think his name's Owen."

I stop my movements and glance at her in a mix of disbelief and disappointment. "You always do this. You meet one of my guy friends, you sleep with them and then dump them. And not to mention, they blame me for your actions and never speak to me ever again."

She doesn't say anything, she just looks at the ground and acts like she's the victim. "No wonder I barely have any friends," I mutter quietly.

"I'm sorry, alright? But Owen's actually really sweet. I think it could work if we know each other be—"

"Quinn, you wasn't even sure about his name. Listen, I'm glad you're here, but just don't screw things up, okay?"

She nods and mutters an 'okay'. Then she goes straight to the bathroom, lowering her head as she quickens her pace. I love my cousin, but she really needs to start acting like an adult. I'm tired of playing responsible and sensible when she's the older one.

My good mood is gone, but I decide to put the feeling away and make something of the day. I finish my breakfast, take a shower, sing along to the music I'm playing on my phone, put on some clothes and do my hair and makeup.

I'm feeling a lot better, until I hear my phone ring. It's my Mom.