One Touch | Charlie Gillespie

T W E N T Y - T W O

"Tell him I said thank you."

J U N E

I wake up with two arms tightly clenched around my body.

Long strands of caramel blonde hair tickle my nose, and I smell the familiar scent of floral shampoo. It's Quinn who lays against me. Her body is above the sheets, so it looks like she couldn't sleep in her own bed and walked over to my room last night.

I smile to myself, thinking back to the days we were kids. Quinn sometimes used to go to my room whenever I stayed the night at her parents' place, because she was afraid of the dark. And now, twelve years later, there hasn't changed a thing.

I slowly place her arms to the side without waking her up, so I can get out of bed. She groans in her sleep as I throw a blanket over her. It's almost 1 pm and Quinn will go home today, so she needs her rest since I figure she didn't catch much sleep last night.

Getting out of bed, I immediately see my reflection in the mirror that hangs against the wall in my bedroom. I cover my mouth with my hands, shocked at the sight of the brunette standing in front of me.

The dark circles underneath my eyes and my pale skin makes me look like a ghost. What the hell? I slowly let my eyes fall over my entire body. There are some bruises on my lower leg and a scab on my knee. I'm still wearing the same baby-blue t-shirt as I wore yesterday, only my jeans are removed and exchanged with grey shorts. But the clothes don't fit my body nicely like they always do. Instead, they hang loosely over my body, like they're too big. But these are my own clothes, so they have to be my size.

I step a little closer at the mirror, trying to understand what seems different about the sight I'm seeing. And then I notice. I have lost weight. How could that happen so fast? Lifting my head up to look at my own face again, I brush my tangled hair out of my face. My face looks the same, except the bags and the pale, chilly skin that used to be slightly tinted.

I don't like what the girl in front of me looks like anymore. She looks unhappy, messed up and tired. She just looks different than before.

I swallow the lump in my throat and wipe away the tears that are trying to sneak out of my lids. No way I'm going to cry over this.

I quietly open my drawer, not wanting to wake Quinn as she's still sleeping. After I slip into sweatpants and an oversized sweater, I walk towards the doorway of my bedroom to get something to eat. But as I approach the door, I suddenly hear voices coming from the living room. I clench my ear against the door to hear who it is.

"So you're on his side now, huh? June's your friend, Jace. Your colleague."

That's weird. It sounds like Leah talking to Jace. What are they doing in our apartment?

"Charlie is my best friend since kindergarten. And besides, I'm not taking sides. You shouldn't either," a male voice snaps back, probably Jace's. I press my body closer to the door, dying to know how the argument will go further.

"Not taking sides? Oh please. We both know he's no good for her. He's creepy and she's crazy."

Oh. Thanks, Lee. But all right, I can't deny she is right. Although, I don't understand why she called Charlie creepy.

"Exactly, and that's why they're not good for each other," Jace whisper-yells, emphasizing the last two words. "Charlie's getting help from this therapist in town. Maybe you girls should consider talking to June 'bout therapy too."

Therapist? Why would Charlie need a therapist?

"Girls?" Leah says unbelievingly. "Why don't we all talk to June about therapy?"