What He Left Behind

Fifteen

As I sit with my friends in the library before homeroom starts the next day, I'm surprised when Charlie appears out of nowhere, casually sitting himself down in the seat next to me, as though him visiting the library isn't the equivalent of a polar bear visiting the Sahara desert. Tristan, who is sitting the other side of me, shoots me a confused look and I shrug.

"Are you lost?" I question, narrowing my eyes at Charlie.

"Nope," he says simply, grinning innocently as he leans back in his chair.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"I meant," I correct, "Why are you here?"

"Nice to see you too," he smirks, "I wanted to know why you didn't answer my calls last night."

"Oh shit, I completely forgot. I was going to ring you back, I swear, but I got distracted, you know what I'm like," I laugh.

"Distracted by what?" he barks, as though he's angry. I've learned by now that he speaks in an aggressive tone almost all of the time, not necessarily because he's angry though. I think it's more of a habit, a habit formed out of the natural instinct to protect himself by sounding intimidating. Whilst, of course, it doesn't particularly make people want to be his friend, it certainly ensures people don't want to be his enemy either.

"I was just hanging out with these guys," I tell Charlie, motioning to my friends.

"That's my bad," Tristan admits, "We were having a Guitar Hero marathon and I wouldn't leave until I'd beaten her. It took quite a while." He ruffles my hair and I scrunch up my face, pushing him away. I notice Charlie's jaw stiffen, his demeanour changing.

"You're not very good then, are you?" Charlie snaps at him. Harlee giggles slightly and Amber chews nervously on her lip and Tristan looks confused.

"Charlie, can I speak to you for a second?" I demand more than ask.

"Sure," he agrees, getting to his feet and smiling that stupid arrogant smile at the rest of my friends.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I cry once we are out of earshot.

"Nothing," he shrugs, still acting as though this whole situation isn't surreal and ridiculous.

"You're treating my friends like shit. Tell me what's up."

"Fuck off am I treating your friends like shit," he scoffs, that same hostile and defensive air about him as when I first met him. Something must have gotten to him because I've noticed he only gets like this when he feels threatened or is trying to prove a point.

"You're acting like a jealous boyfriend. No, actually, you're acting like a hormonal thirteen year old brat."

"How am I?" he cries irately.

"Oh, I don't know. How about the fact you're whinging because I genuinely forgot to call you back, or how you didn't even bother to greet my friends, or how you snapped at Tristan for no apparent reason?"

"You're just being dramatic. I'm not doing anything wrong."

"No Charlie," I say firmly, "You're acting like you're superior to them and I don't like it."

"You're mine, not theirs," he whines, his aggressive energy melting away and being replaced by a boyish playful one.

"I'm not yours Charlie. You don't own me."

"Yeah but you were my friend first."

"Do you realise how ridiculous you sound?" I can't help but laugh a little. "You're acting like a little kid. Besides, I was friends with Amber before I was friends with you."