Night in the Ruts

Hey Man, That's MY Popsicle - Nicky

The minute I told her I wasn't talking about Emily, Charlie knew I was talking about her.

I was ready to forgive her and get my best friend back. Especially after she told me she didn't love Steven Tyler. So I guess they're not a thing anymore.

And that makes me feel like a complete shit-head because I was such a dick to her for several months.

My neighbor's name is Dick.

Wait, what was I saying?

Oh, right. So the whole Charlie/Steven thing didn't work out apparently. I tried to hide my glee, but I don't think I did a very good job. Ever since I'd stopped talking to Charlie I'd had nothing better to do that to get high all the time. To say the least, I was more fucked up then I've ever been before.

After Charlie knew I was talking about her, I let the conversation drop. We were just pulling into my driveway, anyway.

My dad had finally left a few weeks ago. He said his birds were trained and if I'd like to come see him sometime I'm more than welcome. He said I could bring Charlie too. I said no, no way. He said that the guys got new outfits–instead of raincoats and umbrellas they now did an exercise routine. "You'd love it, honey," he tried. I don't remember where mom and Harry were. "They've got neon spandex, those big exercise balls, and thankfully we kept the ties and bow ties as well as the sprinklers raining down."

That sounds absolutely nightmare-inducing. At the time, my only thoughts were: (1) I hope he literally means inflatable exercise balls, and (2) Thank God I live in Rhode Island and not Las Vegas.

Anyway, Charlie was idling in my driveway waiting for me to get out. My mom was at work still, and Harry was probably still counting last night's proceeds for his secret-strip-club-called-Harry's-Houdinis'-that-only-I-know-about.

"Wanna come in?" I asked.

She frowned. "Nah." My heart dropped. "I've got some homework. How about Sunday, though?"

"I guess Sunday's fine," I said slowly, "but what about Saturday?"

"I'll be with Jess and my mom."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"Well, thanks for the ride," I say after a minute.

"Any time," she replies.

"And..." I start. "I'm sorry," I finish quietly.

She grins. "You're forgiven."

"Awesome." And then we hug and I want nothing more that to kiss her again because there's something there when we kiss. However, I don't kiss her because that would be horribly wrong.

--

Later that night, after pretending to eat dinner, I sat on the couch all by myself. Harry was back at Harry's Houdinis' (quite an odd and disgusting name if you ask me), and mom said she had to go to the grocery store.

I thought back to Charlie's conversation with me. She said she didn't love him. That was good news, right?

Maybe.

That phrase is a two-way street.

She either didn't love him but loves him now and is with him, or she didn't love him and doesn't love him because they're no longer together.

I hope for the latter, but I can't help but think that the first statement is true and that she's using me for something. Maybe.

But paranoia is a side effect of cocaine, so...