𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎

I felt like a fool. I watched as my ride zipped off towards his destination, leaving me stranded in a place I didn't know so well. I could follow the road back, but I wasn't certain about all the twists and turns Elliot took me through. I had never felt so free yet so terrified in my entire life. I stood still, waiting.

I wasn't sure what exactly I had been waiting for. It wasn't like he was going to turn around to come to my aid. Even if he had, I certainly wasn't going to get into that car. My cigarette was burning up in my hand, so I threw it on the hard concrete, stomping it out with my foot. Even through the protective layer of Charlie's coat, my arm hurt. I felt something falling down my face. Wiping it off, I realized i had been crying. What an asshole, that Elliot.

I watched as cars passed me, sending waves of harsh air into my body. It pushed me back a few times, knocking me out of the state I was in. If Elliot was going to leave me in this town, I would explore it. I didn't dress up all nice for nothing.

The bars were just beginning to boom with life, yet a strange silence enfolded in all of them. The college students weren't quite arriving, and I knew I wasn't allowed in unless I snuck in. After all, I wasn't 21.

To call it unlucky wasn't right. It was more of a curse than anything else. Charlie continued to be placed with lousy roommates, and I wondered when he was going to have a decent one. It wasn't fair to him, but maybe in a past life, he was a terrible roommate and was forced to roam the earth with one's just like him.

I sat down on a bench, people watching. I should call someone, but I wouldn't know who would pick up. We didn't have phones in each room of the dorms, and I didn't know the numbers by memory. I never thought I needed them. I decided I shouldn't worry about it now. Maybe I needed this time alone.

It was almost 8 p.m., and Elliot had to be on his way back to the dorms. Would Charlie ask about me? Probably. My breath was fogging up the air in front of me, reminding me that the anniversary of Neil's death was right around the corner. I wondered if Charlie was going to be alright. It wasn't fair. Everything about it all wasn't fair.

I was hungry and cold. My bones were aching, but I was happy to confirm that my arm had no longer been hurting. To my surprise, I barely noticed it. I didn't want to waste space in my head for Elliot. A bad situation always resolved into something grand. Well, at least I had hoped. I decided to try my luck at a bar, or at least a restaurant.

I found a cozy bar tucked away on the corner of the street I had been loitering. The soft orange lighting broke through the dark night, shining like a beacon to a lost traveler. I figured I could be that lost traveler, at least for one night.

I wandered in, and I already knew I was out of place. There was an old man tending to the bar and watched me like a father would with his child. "I already know you're not old enough. Scram." There were three others hanging around, and only one glanced up at me, quickly uncaring. He went straight back to nursing his drink.

"Can I just get a water?" I asked, walking into the bar regardless of what he had to say. My voice was still shaking, full of fear. I was angry at myself that I couldn't push that feeling away. It hurt, but I didn't want to admit it. I watched as his gaze softened. "Please."

"Sorry, kid." He began cleaning off the bar with a wet rag. It left behind trails of water spots. "I can't have you in here."

"I don't want any alcohol." I started to rummage through my bag, looking for whatever change I could find. "Here." I slapped a five dollar bill in front of him.

He let out a sigh, pushing the bill back to me. "It's on the house." He said, filling up a glass of water and handing it to me. "What are you doing here if you're not gonna try and convince me to get you a drink?" He was warm, just like the lights in his bar. I quickly gulped down my water, his eyes watching me down with concern.

"A guy left me here." I replied, wiping the water off of my face with Charlie's coat sleeve. "I was stupid to go with him anyway."

"Where are you from?" He asked, grabbing the glass to refill it. I didn't answer him, unsure of his motives. He was helping me, though. "Just so we can get you home."

"Yale." I replied swiftly, gratefully taking the water from him. He nodded, understanding. "Thank you, by the way."

"I can call. Who was the guy who left you? Is he also going to your college?" He asked, and I nodded in response. "Who?"

"Elliot Wilshire." I replied awkwardly. I wanted Elliot to get what he deserved, but I was also worried he would retaliate. "Can I buy something to eat? Do you have fries?"

He started to laugh as he started to prepare me something to eat. He was sweet, like a father. Though my father would be screaming at me right now, blaming this whole shit show on me.

The door dinged open as a group of guys walked in. They were all chatting very loudly compared to the quiet somber of the hidden bar. I could hear some familiar voices among them.

"Fellas, I need to ID you all." The bar tender said, scaring the boys slightly. "You stay right there, or leave if you're too young. I will check."

"Y/n?" It sounded like Charlie and I turned to see him. "Where's Elliot?" He watched me with dim eyes, scanning around the room for any sign of that wealthy imbecile.

"He left me." I said, setting my glass back on the bar counter. I got off the stool and made my way to him, wrapping him in a hug. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"He left you?" His voice cracked slightly as he barely hugged me back. I think he was too shocked by the situation to give me a proper hug.

"I always knew something was up with that Wilshire guy." Rhonda said. "Sorry, y/n."

"He was pissed off at me." I broke the hug, staring at Charlie as if he were the only person in the world. "He made me get out of his car, and he..." I could feel my voice begin to tremble again, and I looked away from Charlie. "He just left."

"Doll.." His head shifted into my direction so that he could see my face. "God... he's..."

"Disgusting." Rhonda said, helping Charlie out. The bar tender was watching our little reunion, waiting to hand me the sandwich and fries he made me.

"Come on, I'll give you all NON alcoholic drinks." The bar tender said, and Pitts was the first one to rush over—ordering a soda.

"I am 21." Rhonda tried to speak cooly, and for once, it wasn't working.

"ID?" He asked, not falling for her smooth talking.

"I left it at my dorm. Y/n can vouch for me. I'm 21."

"No ID. No alcohol." He said, smoother than Rhonda. She smiled at him, a tad bit annoyed. 

I walked over with Charlie, hand in hand. We sat next to each other, and the bar tender handed me my food. He leaned in, only wanting me to hear. "Glad your little family found you. I can still call the school if you want." I shook my head and tried to hand him the money for the food. "On the house, kid."

I let Charlie steal some fries from my plate and have half of my sandwich. Turns out, he didn't get any dinner either. "I'm glad we found you." He said as he was chewing his food. "Elliot's an asshole. Sorry."

"It's not your fault." I took a napkin, wiping off a bit of ketchup off his face. "I should've listened to you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, doll." I could see the sincerity in him. It contrasted with Elliot's weird little ritual of smiling, then observing, than smiling again. "I gotta get a new roommate."

"Yeah, you do." I laughed and felt his lips connect with mine. I didn't expect it, so I sat there, unknowing what to do with myself. He pulled away, chuckling.

"You're too fucking cute, y/n." Charlie said as he saw how flustered I got.