Getting Closer

Chapter Forty Four - Juliet

I awake to a smell that I have come to know and love but it's jarring to wake up to it.

Blinking awake and trying to suppress a throbbing headache, I glance around the room and I feel like I'm still dreaming. I'm in a bedroom that I don't remember ever seeing before but it's clear on who it belongs to. Knickknacks collected over the years line shelves on the walls, pictures of the boys throughout the years, pictures of Charlie on horseback, countless medals, and posters of favorite bands.

This is Charlie's room.

Sitting up slowly, I almost have a heart attack when I realize someone is lying on the ground, dead asleep. I roll my eyes when I realize it's Max but now I question how I got here. I don't remember drinking that much last night. I remember the fireworks, kissing Max in public, and the heat of the bonfire. After that... no clue.

Still dressed in Max's clothing, I stumble quietly out of Charlie's room and tiptoe into the main room to find Charlie sitting at the kitchen table, earbuds in his ear and writing things in a notebook. When he catches sight of me, he quickly glances at my clothing and removes an earbud. "Morning," he says. Pointing behind him with his pen, Charlie beckons me with, "I made coffee if you want some."

"Sugar?" I ask as I step closer.

"Third cabinet, second shelf."

Nodding my thanks, I prepare the cup of coffee where its nearly half sugar and half coffee. Not knowing how I'm still alive thanks to that ratio, I sit back at the kitchen table and watch Charlie for a moment. He seems quite aware that I'm watching him but he doesn't stop his writing. Instead of asking him about it, I hold out my hand. His brown eyes lazily stare at my hand then they flick up to meet my gaze. "Give me your earbud," I say.

His cheeks redden. "Umm... alright."

Giving me the earbud, I nearly burst out laughing after I realize what he's been listening to. "You are such a nerd," I laugh.

"Shut up, it calms me." I snort as I recognize the show tunes blasting in his ear. "My mom took me all the way to Chicago to see a production of Wicked when I was like five," he says. "Ever since, I've religiously listened to the soundtrack all my life."

I shrug. "Well Wicked is a musical classic, so I do not blame you." Charlie returns my smile, happy I'm not berating his taste of music. But as he studies my face, his smile fades and he has to look away from me. "So, what happened last night?" I ask. "I don't remember even leaving."

His brow raises. "After midnight, Seth kept insisting we take shots. You, Seth, and Tara were fucked up at the end." I frown. The next time I see Seth, I'm going to strangle him. "Max suggested we just let you crash here instead of trying to sneak you into your parents' place or him trying to hide you at his house."

I sigh as "Defying Gravity" starts to play in my ear. "Well, I thank you dearly for babysitting me and for letting me use your bed."

Charlie shrugs. "No problem, Jules. I've certainly been kicked out of my own bed countless times before." At my strange look, he clarifies, "Don't get me wrong. If Max or Seth usually crash here, I'm in bed most of the time. But if both are over, I take the couch because I can't stand knowing someone else is sleeping in my room with me."

"You boys are strange to me," I say and take a sip of sugar coffee. I turn back my attention to Charlie and study him more. I frown when I remember what Seth told me about him that Charlie won't open up unless he's ready. But from knowing him over the past four months, he lets things build up until he can't breathe anymore. So I make myself say, "We should talk about the other major event of last night." Charlie stills and keeps his focus on the paper in front of him. "Did Max-" I start.

Quickly, already knowing where that was going, "No." He pauses and clenches a fist. "No one forced me, Jules. And we don't need to talk about it."

"It's just... you seem off." His eyes find mine, no warmth in them like there usually is. "It just seems like you regret it and-"

"I don't regret it," Charlie cuts me off. "I feel fucking gross and guilty but I don't regret it. What happened happened."

I pause before pushing him. "Why do you feel guilty?"

Charlie starts tapping his pen against the table, the only sound emitting except Wicked playing in our ears. Then, "For months I've been denying Kate. She wanted more and I just couldn't give that piece of me to her." As it slowly dawns on me, Charlie continues, "But the second we're broken up, I just let go... I just fucked a stranger without overthinking it, without thinking of her once and... I'm guilty because I fucking finally realized that I strung her along for months and I hate myself for doing that to her. For making her endure this relationship."

Before he can wallow in his self-deprecation, I reach out and put his head in between my hands. Squeezing his face, I say, "Things happen for a reason is the motto I've always gone by. Just because you fucked up one relationship doesn't mean that you are a shitty person, Charlie. Instead of viewing it as a fuckup, think of it as a learning opportunity."

"Opportunity to realize how shitty I am?" he asks through squished lips.

I roll my eyes, "No dumby. Opportunity to grow. You learned that you are open to more with the right person with the right circumstances and you learned when to realize when you're not really into someone or not."

After I let go of him, he stares at me for a while before asking, "Where have you been all this time?"

I smile and reach for my coffee again. "Locked in the devil's lair," I reply just as Max comes stumbling into the kitchen looking more haggard than I do. He shuffles in the seat across from Charlie and groans. "Morning," I say to him and ruffle his hair.

He glances at me through a half-open eye and frowns. "Why the fuck do you look so good?" Max questions as he puts his head on the table.

"The magic of being a girl," I shrug.

Charlie snorts and seems to come back into his normal self once again. "I'll get you some coffee," he says to Max and shoves out of his chair.

When Charlie returns, only then do I notice his sweatshirt. "Do either of you own clothing without a logo of a sports team?"

Charlie looks down at his Minnesota Wild sweatshirt. "You should see how many Twins jerseys we own," he smiles and shoves Max's coffee across the table.

"Your dad owns more," Max mumbles.

"You are all such boys," I groan.

Charlie shrugs. "How can you call yourself a Minnesota native without being a Twins, Vikings, Wolves, or Wild fan?"

I roll my eyes. "Sports is rotting your brains."

Max lifts head and motions to Charlie. "Well since this fucker can maybe play for one of them, I'd say we're pretty adamant on our love for sports."

I turn to Charlie. "You're that good?"

Charlie seems to get shy. "I suppose."

Max sits up straighter and stares down his friend. "Don't be modest now, fucker. You can easily be in the majors."

"That's if I play well this year."

"And you will," Max insists.

I stare between the two, the both of the silently conversing until Charlie shrugs. "Maybe, if anything, I'm also good enough for the Wild as well."

I turn to Charlie. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Max laughs. "You absolutely suck at basketball."

"I mean... you're not wrong." The two of them continue to bicker and the whole time, I slowly realize that if these two are with me this entire year, I think this is the first year I'm absolutely looking forward to. And that's a thought that makes me so immensely happy but also terrified that I'm going to fuck this up somehow just like I always do.