Charlie's Angel

53

Charlie

   All I can remember is something in my mind clicking on–like a switch–and everything was different.

   It was an uncomfortable different.

   I blinked my eyes open slowly, my chest tightening then relaxing in an unsteady beat. I expected to see wires and tubes everywhere, doctors poking me and asking me questions about my injuries. I almost craved to see a blur of bright lights and medical tools to mend my bleeding body parts.

   I saw none of that. I was in my bedroom, none of my body parts were wrapped up, there was no oxygen tube across my nostrils giving me a source of air, and my head didn't ache with what I thought would have been a concussion.

   I felt...good. Well, average.

   My eyes drifted over to my left to see Paris sleeping with her forehead pressed against my upper arm.

   "Sam?" I rasped out, finding my voice was much weaker than I expected. "Hello?"

   I pried Paris' warm fingers off my arm and scooted out of bed, creeping onto the carpet below my feet to pull on some sweatpants; I never sleep in pants or a shirt.

   Making my way across the hall to her bedroom, her door was cracked so I crept in quietly.

   "Sam?" I called out again, seeing her sprawled out on her bed, swiping downward on her iPhone.

   "Charlie?" She sat up and let the comforter drop down her chest, revealing her bare body and a bright smile that I really missed seeing. "You know my name?"

   Huh?

   "Yeah...?" I furrowed my brows at her in confusion, and I saw her eyes widen with shock and something else I couldn't read. "Why am I not in the hospital? Wasn't I just in a car accident? What the hell is going on?"

   I've never seen Sam so happy. Without a second to even breathe, I was in her arms and she was kissing my lips over and over and over again, squeezing the air from my lungs with so much pent up emotion bursting all at once.

   "Oh my god, you're back!"

   "Back from what?" I laughed uneasily, half confused and half delighted; if she was happy, I felt like I should be happy too. "Where did I go?"

   It was a domino effect between the both of us; tears flowed from her forest green eyes, and I followed her lead. I didn't even know why I was crying, but I was crying because she was crying.

   "Charlie," she murmured quietly with red eyes. "Oh my god."

   "Sam," I blushed, noticing she was still naked. "Can you, um, get dressed? You're still nude."

   "Oh, sorry!" She wrapped an arm around herself and walked to the side of the bed to bend down to get her clothes. She looked up at me and motioned for me to sit down beside her. Her hands wrapped around my own–they were shaking. "Charlie, the car accident was three months ago."

   I shook my head. "No, it was yesterday, wasn't it?"

   She didn't say anything, but she held up my right arm and turned it a little so I could see the operation scar–fully healed and smooth on my skin.

   "You've had temporary memory loss since the day after it happened," she explained further, noticing my confusion. "You don't remember anything?"

   "Um," I mumbled, beginning to think. "No. I remember waking up and someone coming to see me, but I can't remember who. Then I remember waking up this morning. That's it."