The Charlotte Chronicles

Part 5

Nathan

I spend most of the night with one eye open just waiting for Charlotte’s parents to burst through the door but even with that anxiety hovering around the edges of my consciousness I don’t leave. Charlotte’s hand is tucked into mine is more effective than a chain bolted to the floor. I can tell that she is confused by my response to her and I am as well. These feelings came on so fast and neither of us are prepared. I had some vague idea Charlotte and I would end up together but that was in the future. Her being sick, nearly dying had changed things. But we aren’t ready. I’m not ready.

The memory of the last time I had sex flicks through my mind and I get an instant erection. Nick is having more sex than me right now but I know I shouldn’t care. I know other guys would either be having sex with other girls or be taking Charlotte up on her offer. Although what she is offering I’m not sure. And it’s not like Charlotte and I are dating or even a couple. We’re connected though. For so long I’ve just taken for granted that she’ll be around when I’m ready for her. And right now she’s too young and I’m trying hard to push away those physical feelings. Emotional ones are okay but I feel two inches high whenever I get hard around her. But going off to another girl? That seems just as wrong now. Before, yeah, it was easy. The idea of not having sex for some interminable amount of time in the future is bleak. I wonder if I can die from a build up of sperm or if my dick really will fall off if I jerk it too much in the shower. Maybe it would be better if she left. If she was gone, wouldn’t it be easier for me to go without? No temptation around.

I hold myself immobile so I don’t disturb her sleep but she finally lets go right before dawn, about the time I usually get up and lift weights so I tell myself it’s okay to leave her. She mumbles something but I don’t catch it. Leaning over, I tuck the blankets around her and kiss her forehead.

“Naaaate.” She sighs out my name, the a sounding like one long breathy syllable and it sends shivers down my spine and I’m hard. Just like that. Adjusting myself, I creep out, glad that the hallway is quiet. All doors are shut and I can escape into my own home unnoticed. The kitchen is dark except for the range light over the hood.

“You can spend as much time as you like with her before she leaves, but she is leaving.”

My hand is on the doorknob but my heart is somewhere around my knees. If I had poor bladder control, I would have pissed myself. At least my boner died.

“Jesus Christ, Aunt AM.” I swear forgetting myself. In the shadows, across the room, sits Charlotte’s mother, a mug in her hand and her tablet in front of her on the breakfast table. I hope she didn’t see me tenting my pants earlier. I won’t die from sperm build up. One of Charlotte’s parents will kill me instead. “I d-didn’t see you,” I stammer out.

“No kidding.” I can hear the smirk in her voice. “The fog comes on little cat feet.”

“Huh?”

“Carl Sandberg.” When I show no understanding, she shakes her head. “School’s these days. It’s about the Chicago Harbor! The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on. You’ve never heard that?”

It rings a faint bell so I nod but she isn’t buying it. “Come.” She orders. “Sit down.”

I trudge over, my feet slapping heavily against the tiles. She kicks out a chair and I drop into it.

“Why?” I ask sullenly feeling like I’m a toddler again and Aunt AM is taking away my favorite toy.

I can feel her looking at me, but the light from the range hood doesn’t extend over here. The only light is from her tablet which has flickered off. Gone to sleep I guess.