One Touch | Charlie Gillespie

E I G H T E E N

"Don't touch me."

The clouds in my head covered the sun when Quinn reminded me there is a family weekend coming up in a few days.

Every year, my Dad and Quinn's mother have a small anniversary party to celebrate the so many years of their company, Riley's. In addition to some friends and colleagues, the whole family is invited. And by that, I mean my Grandma and all my aunts and uncles with their children. But this year, it's the tenth anniversary and that means a big party. And by that, I mean really big. My Dad has been talking about it for months, so I have no idea how I could forget about it.

"Didn't Jack send a reminder?" Quinn asks with her phone in her hand as we walk through the halls on our way to the apartment. She scrolls her finger up and down the screen, showing all of the missing calls she has got from her mother the past few days. "Mom has left me thirty fuckin' messages 'cause she was afraid I'd forget it."

Laughing, I lift my bag from my shoulder. "Typically your mom."

"And no," I continue sighing, and I stop walking as we reach the front door to look for the key in my bag. "Since I've been here, I've literally received one text from him. He's too busy to remind me."

"C'mon, don't say that. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding."

I drop my head and shrug indecisively, assuming Quinn's probably right because she always is. I'm still fiddling with the damn key when I hear a loud noise coming from my back pocket. As I grab my phone, the key finally plops in the hole and opens the door. The message is from Charlie, asking where I am.

"Shit," I mumble tensely with a deep, frustrated sigh followed after it. Honestly, I was caught off guard by hearing the news about upcoming weekend, and by that I am a little pissed off. But I have to know why he acted so weird in front of the others this morning, whether it's good news or bad. "Sorry Quinn, I have to go. See you." And with that, I throw my bag and keys on the kitchen counter and rush back to set again, where Charlie suggested to meet.

Nervousness and anxiety cause an unpleasant feeling in the bottom of my stomach as I reach the doorknob of the familiar white plane door I have seen several times today. My sweat glands begin to work under my armpits and make my hands clammy, but I quickly wipe them off my jeans to make sure he doesn't notice.

The set is empty except for a few crew members who are cleaning out some stuff in front of the set up house. I look around the place, but the guy I'm looking for is nowhere to be seen. I'm about to ask one of the crewmen if they have seen Charlie, until the sound of another upcoming message stops me. 'In Julie's room', says the new notification. I put my phone away and walk towards the stairs that lead to the main character's bedroom. The wood creaks under my feet as I walk the steps carefully, not fully trusting the cheap Ikea planks that form the stairs.

As I reach the top, a dark brown wooden door with a small hand-engraved sign that reads 'Julie' is open a crack. The yellow light of a small lamp shines through the crack right into my eyes. I slightly push it further open, revealing the spacious room which almost looks like a real bedroom, except for the cameras and director's seat which already stand in the corner of the room for the next day. But other than that, the cosy bedroom designed by Mark Hofeling Design is a room I would like to have for myself when I was Madi's age. It's a typical teenager room: lots of decorations and some scarfs and hats scattered around the room, giving off messy and colorful vibes. The dimmed light comes from the little lamp on the nightstand, making the atmosphere calm and cosy.

As beautiful as the room is, my eye fall on the person I came for. He sits on the double bed in the center of the room, his elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed lifelessly. His eyes are the first thing I notice when he looks up. Those big, bright eyes. But only now something is different about them. Maybe they look darker because of the light? I look a little better. No, that's not it. Standing there as we stare at each other in silence, I suddenly know. His eyes. They're not sparkling like always. They're empty, as if I'm staring straight into two black holes.

Gritting my jaws, I slowly walk to the bed and sit next to him, my lips pressed together. I hear him swallow. "June, before I say it, I want you to know that—"

"No," I interrupt him, my voice creaking as I shake my head prostrated. "I don't want to hear it. Just tell me what has changed, nothing more." My eyes close and I wait for him to say what he needs to say, praying silently it isn't the thing I'm afraid for. But he doesn't say anything. He just sits there in the same position as when I came in. But then, he turns his head to face me and forces me to look into his eyes. His empty eyes.

"It was a mistake. I'm sorry," he whispers. My heart falls. There it is. There's that feeling again. I never thought my heart could be more broken after everything I've been through. Guess I was wrong.

Charlie tries to grab my hand, but I slowly pull it back, unwilling to hear his apologies. As I do everything I can to keep my tears from falling, I try to look for words. He grabs my chin and tries to turn my face to look at him, but I slap his hand away. "Don't touch me," I hiss, and he covers his mouth in shock. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

But before he can finish his sentence, I stand up and walk towards the door. "Wait, June, can we please talk about it?"

Ignoring his question, I walk on but stop in the doorway. I look over my shoulder and catch a glance of him standing in front of the bed with tears in his eyes. But his puppy eyes aren't enough this time.

"There is nothing else to say."

Having said that, I walk down the stairs, run to the white door and sprint to the exit. When I'm outside, I feel the rain dripping from my skin.

It is the best feeling ever.