It Doesn't Matter, Charlie

Part 2.5 - The Beach

Sorry again about these being out of order!  I'm so disorganized :P

 

I had taken my shoes off and was begging Charlie to do the same.

“Come on, it feels amazing! You have to, I’m making you,” I said.

“You can’t make me!” he laughed.

“Okay, that’s it,” I said. He stared at me confused, and then I started poking him in the ribs.

He twitched and jumped, until he gave up and yelled, “Okay! Okay, I’ll take them off!”

“Good,” I smiled, proud of myself. I watched as he kicked them off and stepped a few times in the sand. He looked at me and smiled. “It’s nice, yes?”

He laughed at my anxiousness and agreed. “Thanks for making me do that, even if it is cold. Then again, you don’t seem to care.”

I shrugged. “I hate warm. Cold is my thing. People think I’m crazy, but I think they’re crazy for liking the heat, so you know, it evens out.”

He nodded. “I don’t really prefer either. Maybe in between?”

I smiled crookedly. “You don’t have to lie. Everyone likes the warm.”

He shrugged. “Okay, fine. I prefer the warm.”

“Why’d you lie?” I poked him in the ribs again.

“Because I thought you’d do that!” he laughed. I rolled my eyes. We walked in silence for a few minutes after that, gazing at the stars.

“This is weird,” I finally said.

“What is?” Charlie asked.

I dug my toe into the sand and then pulled it out again. “Most people generally don’t go out to dinner and then have walks on the beach with other people they’ve just met.”

Charlie nodded. “But this is different,” he said.

“How so?” I laughed.

“Well, I saved you life,” he pointed out.

“That you did,” I nodded. “Who knows would have happened if you hadn’t come by the lake?”

“Why were you in there, Aimee?”

I looked up at him and felt my face heat up. “What?” I asked, astonished.

“What?” he repeated innocently.

“You…you don’t know?” I asked.

My expression must have been shocked because Charlie asked, “Am I missing something?”

“Charlie, I…I can’t swim…” I whispered.

He looked at me strangely. “Then why would you go in the lake?”

I sighed. “I’m sick. I’m a sick bastard who only cares about myself and no one else, because who cares about anyone else’s happiness when I can’t be happy? But you know what, it’s not fair. Why does she just have to leave. There was nothing for me. She was me and I’m nothing and no one cares and I’m sick and you ruined my chance to be happy but saved everyone else’s happiness at the same time. I don’t know whether to thank you or hate you for that, Charlie.”

We had both stopped moving. Charlie looked at me with this horribly confused expression. I don’t think he understood a word I just said. “So…you tried to…you know…kill yourself?”

“That’s the ticket,” I said. Then suddenly, I was crying. Sobbing, actually. Real, physical tears that dripped down my face at speeds that didn’t even happen in stupid movies. My eyes closed and I shook with this horrible feeling of guilt. Then I felt something else, but it wasn’t myself. It was Charlie, his arms wrapped around me and his neck next to my face. I stuffed my face into the curve of his neck and cried harder. I shook more and he squeezed my tighter. This was the first time I’ve cried since the day Carol died, and it was almost…relieving. We stayed next to each other for a good ten minutes, but it felt like much longer. And for some insane, just-can’t-put-my-finger-on-it reason, I loved every second of it. Finally he released me as I calmed down. “Thanks,” I sniffed.

“Any time,” he smiled slightly. I did the same.

“We…we should head home,” I said softly. “It’s getting late.” Our bodies were still quite close, and I could hear his heavy breathing. Probably a side effect of the cold.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. We began our walk back, shoulder to shoulder, but other wise no other contact, in complete silence.

When we got to his hotel he lifted his key and said, “I’ll let myself in.”

“Okay. Shall I meet you two for lunch tomorrow? Or rather, can I?”

He smiled, pleased I was asking. “Most definitely. Meet us here at twelve?”

“Cool,” I nodded. We stood there awkwardly for a moment staring at our feet. “Good night?” I finally said. I looked up and opened my arms, saying it was okay to hug.

“Good night, then,” he said, hugging me. After a minute he kissed me on the top of the head and said, “See you tomorrow, Aimee.” I stayed at the bottom of the steps until the intercom buzzed on and said, “Aimee, go home now.”

I laughed and skipped happily out the door of the hotel building.