Obsessive Love Disorder [PART 3]

1

November 1, 1996
Billy

The moon shines softly against the grass and soil of a serene forest, lighting up every clearing with a pale and mysterious glow. Animals thrive, sleeping the night away while the plants gather fresh dew from the cool California nighttime air. It's perfectly quiet, the woods at peace while the nearby towns pass the hours in bed, not a single person in sight-

"Don't fucking touch me."

I quickly remove my hand from Charlotte's shoulder, shirking back at the venom in her voice. She hastily jumps out of the backseat of Stu's truck with Davey in tow, who is still half-asleep from the drive from Woodsboro, and pushes past me into the clearing of the woods where we've parked. 

"Charlotte, please-"

"Shut up, Billy, before I kill you myself."

Stu whistles lowly from the bed of the truck, to which I glare at him. "You need to listen to me, love-"

Charlotte whirls around and I see her eyes filled with absolute fury. Davey stirs in her arms but ultimately stays asleep as she takes a step closer to me, and I can't help but take a step back in response. The sheer wrath that radiates from her... it's scaring me. 

"You don't get to call me that."

"It's the truth."

"So?" She scoffs, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. The salty water leaves streaky lines in the dried blood on her face, and even though I want nothing more than to clean her up and bandage her wound, I know better. "That doesn't absolve the shit you did, Billy! It doesn't explain it, it doesn't excuse it, it doesn't do anything."

I want to argue with her. I want to explain to her my thoughts and my reasoning, but I know she won't listen. We're past the point of her listening to me, and now I'm afraid that I don't know exactly what point we're at. 

"...You came, though."

"Excuse me?"

I sigh, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. "You came with us. You got in the truck, you sat for the whole drive without a word."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, asshole," she whispers, glancing down at her sleeping brother with caution.

"You could have stayed, Charlotte! Don't pin this all on me! If you really didn't want to be near me, you could have just stayed in Woodsboro and faced the cops all by yourself!"

"You kidnapped my fucking brother!" She yells, completely ignoring Davey's rest now. I flinch at her words, completely hurt. We didn't kidnap him, that would be fucking insane! No, we... Stu just picked him up. He told him it was a surprise, and Davey agreed to come with us. He consented. He... consented. Yes.

I groan, clenching my fists together in order to relieve some of my anger. I don't want to lash out at Charlotte, I'm sure that would just make this ten times worse than it already is. Instead, I throw up my hands and stalk back toward Stu and join him in grabbing our bags from the bed of the truck. Behind me, I hear Charlotte curse under her breath as she walks in the opposite direction toward a small wooden building. The door slams behind her and I drop my confident facade, immediately crumpling to the ground next to Stu.

"Billy...?"

"What?"

"Are you... okay?"

I glance up at my friend, who looks just as miserable as I do. 

"...I didn't think it was gonna go like this, man."

Stu sighs and joins me in the dirt, tucking his knees underneath his chin. "Me neither. I thought..." He laughs bitterly. "I don't know what I thought."

"I just wish she would understand... I wish she could just get it. I've tried to explain what we did, Stu, but she isn't getting it."

"Give it some time," he replies, hesitantly placing his hand on my shoulder. I flinch at first, but the warm comfort of contact calms me down. "We all just need some time. It'll be a new normal, y'know? Once she gets used to it, she'll be more open to listening."

I look over my shoulder to my dad's lakehouse - the lights are still off, but I can manage to see shadows moving about through the windows as the early morning begins to rise. "Yeah... you're probably right."

"Of course I am," Stu jokes. He stands up, brushes off his jeans, and resumes retrieving our bags and supplies. "And as long as no one fucks up and alerts the cops, we'll have plenty of time."

I smile for the first time in hours and match his movements, standing up and throwing a duffel bag over my shoulder before making my way toward the house and through the door. 

One of the only perks of having my asshole of a dad is that he likes his privacy. He bought this place years ago, saying that it was his little getaway from work when he needed a break. He brought me and my mom a few times during spring break and we would spend our days fishing at the lake, running around the woods, and making s'mores at the firepit in the back. That was before he cheated, of course. Before my mom abandoned me. I haven't been back here since.

Luckily for us, this place is considered 'off the grid' in the way that the electricity and water are turned off most of the year and that we're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Hell, I'm pretty sure no one else even knows this place exists besides me and my father, and I know that he's pretty much forgotten about this place. It's the perfect safehouse. 

Inside, I put my bag on the kitchen counter and start opening cabinets, clearing out space for Stu to stock up on food. Light snoring sounds from the dusty sofa in the adjacent room, but it is soon replaced by the soft padding of socked feet. "Billy?"

"Yeah, Davey?"

"Where are we? Your friend said we were going on a trip."

"We are," I grin. "We're in my lakehouse. We can go swimming, play in the woods, do whatever you want."

The kid smiles back, but it quickly dissolves into concern as he peers down the hallway. I follow his gaze and suddenly notice that the bathroom door is shut, the light streaming out from underneath. I silently walk against the aging wooden floors until I'm just outside of the bathroom, Davey right behind me. I press my ear against the door but immediately pull back as my heart breaks. 

"Is she in there?" Davey whispers.

"Yes..." I reply quietly, pulling him back into the kitchen. "She's crying."

Davey furrows his eyebrows, looking completely puzzled. "I don't think I've ever heard her cry before." He looks up at me and I can see the gears working in his head. "What happened?"

I close my eyes in an attempt to fight back the oncoming tears as I try to come up with an answer. I can't exactly be honest with him, can I? I don't want to freak him out, Charlotte would hate me if I scared her brother. But I can't lie to him. I can't lie to this kid, I can't tell him that everything is alright. He's smart... I think he'd know if I was lying. The only answer I can think of is something vague enough to get past him but is also completely true. 

 "...I think I fucked up. Really, really badly."