Baby, You're a Rich Man

Chapter 16

That night, too exhausted to do anything else, I slumped into bed and stared at the ceiling. Pete hadn't returned to our dorm yet, and Robbie wasn't blasting Pink Floyd for once, so I thought of all of the studying I could finally accomplish in peace, but for some reason, I didn't feel up to it.

After about an hour—or what felt like one anyway—someone knocked on my door. Assuming that it was Pete, I called "Come in!" but instead, I was greeted by Patty.

I sat up straight. "Hey Patty, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she sighed, walking in and sitting herself down on my bed. "I didn't catch you after detention—did you find anything?"

"No," I replied, realizing that I had, in fact, sort of left the basement without stopping to talk to the others. I just hadn't considered it worth it to tell them about the nonsense clue. "Did you find anything?"

Patty shook her head. "But we haven't searched every room—just five of them. We just need to get another detention and then-"

"No," I interrupted firmly. "No more detentions. Look, if you wanna tell Ritchie to get another detention or whatever, and then you two can continue looking for the fortune, that's fine, but I'm out."

Patty's face looked solemn. "Charlie...Ritchie and I split up tonight."

My jaw dropped. They had been together for over a year, and I couldn't see why she would want to end her relationship with someone so wealthy, handsome, and fit. Even more so, I couldn't see why Ritchie or anyone would want to end a relationship with Patty because she seemed pretty flawless to me...or at least, the flaws that she did have only made her more attractive. I wasn't sure which one it was.

"You missed it because you sort of...ran off," she told me, "but he basically said he didn't feel like a priority in my life anymore and didn't see any point in continuing it."

"Patty, if this is at all my fault, I'm sorry-"

She motioned for me to be silent. "It's not your fault. It was coming a long time. To be honest, I wasn't really feeling it either. We said we were gonna remain friends and all, so I hope that works out."

Upon hearing her say that she "wasn't feeling it," my heart raced, but then I reminded myself that just because she wasn't into Ritchie anymore didn't guarantee that she dug me.

I sighed. "I think I know something that might make you feel better."

"What's that?" she asked, as I leaned over and pulled my Fender out of its case. "Damn, Charlie, that's a nice guitar."

"I know," I agreed, grinning, as I plugged it in. "I've been working a lot on this song lately."

"What song?"

I smiled, reached over to my bedside, and hit my alarm so that it gave a loud, screeching ring. At first, Patty seemed confused by what I was doing, but she caught on when I began playing the opening riff of "Time" on my guitar.

"I don't really sing for people," I told her honestly, continuing to play the introduction of the song, "so you're lucky...or maybe unlucky. Who knows?"

Then, as if on cue, right before the tempo picked up and I began singing, Patty played the drum lead-in by tapping her hands on my nightstand. I smiled as I sang the first lyric: "Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day..."

She continued her drumming sequence, but it was nothing like the steady beat played by Nick Mason on the record. It was somehow...edgier, but it worked nonetheless. When I reached the first chorus, however, I realized that I wasn't the only one hiding things when it came to my singing ability. Patty began singing the upper harmony, in a way that was identical to the tune of the record. Her voice was soft yet pure and powerful.