𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

I got to Welton, barely. I had been crying basically the whole way there, my tears freezing in the cold. This was a lie, right? I'd see Neil when I got there! I would! I knew I would. I didn't have to worry. I didn't have to feel like a piece of me died alongside him.

I dropped my bike at the front, walking into the school to see a bunch of pale, silent faces. I knew my mother wasn't lying. Grabbing the nearest boy, I asked when Charlie was. The boy shrugged, not knowing what to say to me.

Instead of going through out the entire school, I decided to head to Charlie's room. It was closed when I got to it, so instead of barging in, I knocked on the door. There was no response, but I knew someone was in there. I heard them moving around. I knocked again, harder and louder.

They moved to the door, opening it just a crack. It was Charlie. I could see his eyes were swollen and pink. It broke me. "Charlie..." He closed the door on me quickly. "Charlie, please." I knocked again as if he never opened the door.

"Go home." His voice was weak. "Y/n, go home." I stood there, not knowing what to say to him. I wasn't going home. I wasn't leaving him here like this. He went quiet, probably thinking I had left.

"Charlie.." I felt my eyes fill up with tears for like the thousandth time today. "I'm not going home."

Someone opened up their door a bit down the hall, and I saw Meeks peek out. "Y/n?" His voice was also weak. After all, we were all friends with Neil. "You heard abo-"

"Yeah." I interjected, not wanting him to talk about it. "Yeah, I did." Meeks came over to me, pulling me into a hug. "You alright?"

Meeks nodded, and I felt his tears wet my shoulder. I have never seen him cry. He kept his cool better than I ever could. "Yeah, well, no." He laughed nervously, pulling away from the hug. "I will be, just..."

"I know." I pulled him into another hug. "I'm sorry." Charlie's door finally opened, and I pulled away from Meeks. He was standing at his door, smirking. It was easy to tell he was in pain... in a lot of pain.

"Chasing after me again?" He asked. It looked as if he was going to burst into tears at any moment, but he held himself together.

"Dalton... idiot." I chastised him with a laugh. He came over to me, wrapping his arms around me. I felt him run his hands through my hair, comforting me. It was odd. I should've been comforting him.

"Come into my room before Nolan sees you." He said, opening his door more.  He let go of me, walked into his room, and sat on his bed. I followed him, closing the door behind me. He carefully tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "How'd you find out."

"My mom." I replied. "I'm not sure how she found out, but... news like that spreads like wildfire."

Charlie nodded, his smirk fading quickly as if his flame was submerged in water. "I can't wrap my head around it."

"Neither can I." My eyes started to fill up with tears again, and I looked away. I felt a pain in my chest, one that made it hard to breathe. I had never felt that way before. Charlie rubbed my back softly, watching me. "I'm..." I sighed, holding back tears. "God, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing." He said, leaning over to try and look at me. I wouldn't let him. I hung my head in my forearm. "Darling, you need to cry." His voice cracked again. "I do too, honestly."

I finally looked at him, and he stopped talking. He looked me up and down with eyes, slowly fading into himself. "He's your best friend and -"

"It hurts." He finished my sentence for me, nodding. I saw his tears fall silently against his face like raindrops on the surface of a window. He was beautiful, but when there was beauty, there was heartache. "It stings like all hell. We were gonna get out of here, and..." He looked to his hands, and I saw his body shake. His voice became a mess. "He left me."

I swallowed down my tears upon seeing him break down. I put my arms around him, pulling him into me. His head rested almost in my lap, so I gently felt his hair—the same way he did for me. He was breaking down. I didn't blame him.

"You still have him." I tried to say even though it would be no use to his feelings. Truth was, Neil was gone, and he would never be able to see him again. He shook his head at my words, trying to pull himself back into focus. "He's with you, Charlie. I promise. He left an impact on you just as you had him."

Charlie sat back up, looking at me in disbelief. "I hope to God you're right." He finally said. "At least he's free from his father's fucking grip." He sniffed, using his arm to wipe his tears. "God fucking dammit!"

It startled me when he yelled. I knew he was pissed off at Neil's dad, but I also knew a piece of Charlie blamed himself. They were drowning but drowning together. Future banker. Future doctor. What did that matter now?

"I wasn't prepared for this shit." Charlie swore, laying back on his bed. He was a mess. His bed was a mess. His hair was a mess. Everything about him was a mess, and I still thought he was perfect. Though his heart had been broken, his mind was still in tact. He let out a long sigh, sat up enough to grab me, and pulled me down onto him. My head lay on his chest. "You still are hiding from me. You're like fucking Todd." He laughed. "God..."

I stayed still, practically holding my breath. I could hear his heart beating. It wasn't fast, but it wasn't relaxed either. He was warm, and I closed my eyes for a moment. Emotionally, I was drained, and so was he.

"Are you gonna talk or what?" He asked, his voice growing calmer as he himself calmed down. "Y/n?"

"Hmm." I hummed, my eyes still closed. I had no words to say, and no more tears to cry. I wanted to disappear into the air... become absolutely nothing. "How's Todd holding up?" I finally asked since he mentioned him.

"I..." He paused, glancing down at me. "I think..." He let out a sigh, figuring he should just tell the truth. "Not great. He took it really hard."

I opened my eyes, tilting my head to meet Charlie's eyes. I reached a hand up, touching his face gently. I didn't say anything, and neither did he. He met my hand with his, squeezing it. "You're a doll." He smiled.

I smiled back at him softly. He lifted me up closer, and now my head was resting on his shoulder, our legs twisted with one another. He ran his free hand through my hair, twisting my thoughts into shapes and comfort. I closed my eyes and promptly fell asleep to the smell of cigarettes and oud.