Obsessive Love Disorder

11

October 1, 1996
Billy

"Okay, I've got... Halloween, Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Child's Play, and a few others, if you want to look."

I'm currently sitting on a well-worn couch in Charlotte's basement, where she's pulling random horror movies off of a large shelf. I've thrown off my combat boots and my jacket to kick up my feet and settle in for a movie. 

"Let me take a look," I say, hoisting myself off of the couch and walking over to her. I quickly scan the collection of movies that Charlotte shows off, and I must say, I'm extremely impressed. She's got the iconic scary movies, like Halloween, but she's also got some more obscure picks, like Suspiria. The shelf is organized by decade, the oldest Universal movies at the top and the more recent releases near the floor. She seems to be quite fond of the selection. On a whim, I use my finger to slide out a copy of Carrie and hand it over to Charlotte. She flashes me a smug grin, whispering, "I love this one." 

"I'm not shocked. You kinda remind me of her," I say, watching as she takes the tape out and inserts it into the VHS player. She throws me an odd look over her shoulder. "Really? Just because I'm a loser and have no friends?"

"No, no, nothing like that," I reply. Fuck, I didn't mean for that to come out as an insult. "You're just pretty quiet and it takes some time for you to open up to people." She blushes a bit and hides her face behind her long, brown hair. "Carrie's one of the best horror movie characters, too," I add. That seems to do the trick, because she meets my eyes again and gives me a small smile. 

The TV screen flashes a few times with static before the opening credits of the movie come on. The girls are all in the locker room, showering off after a gym class. Carrie White then realizes that she's bleeding, and chaos ensues. Charlotte settles back into one side of the couch, and I take the other side, trying to keep enough distance between us in case she feels uncomfortable. 

A few hours have passed between the time we picked up Davey and now — we went and got some dinner (my treat, of course) and then I took the two of them for ice cream. I think Davey has forgotten about the way I yelled at him those few nights ago, because he was basically attached to my hip the entire afternoon. I caught Charlotte grinning at us a few times, but she always covered it up with a cough or something similar. She thinks she's smooth, but it's pretty obvious to tell that she likes me. 

At least, I hope she does. 

"Did you know this was Stephen King's first big-screen book adaptation?" I nudge Charlotte with my hand to draw her attention away from the screen. She quirks an eyebrow at me, intrigued. "Really?"

"Yeah, and he was only paid 2,500 dollars for the rights."

"Damn, that sucks," she says, biting her nails. "At least he's filthy rich now."

"That's for damn sure," I reply, scooping up a handful of popcorn from the bowl that sits between us. I offer her some, and she picks up a few kernels from my palm and promptly throws them up in the air, catching them in her mouth. I love seeing her so laidback, she actually looks like she's having fun. 

The movie continues and we watch quietly as Margaret shoves her daughter into the prayer closet. Charlotte flinches at the door slamming, and I chuckle a bit. "You seem on edge."

She looks over at me, almost like she forgot I was there, and shuts her eyes tight. "Sorry, I just haven't watched this one in a while." I can sense that there's something else going on, but I know better than to pry with her. Instead, I wrap my arm around the back of the sofa and angle my head toward the screen again.