Take One With You (11 page)

“Are you listening outside my door, now?”

“No, I just thought – ”

“I don’t care what you think, Brad!” Charlie said, and probably because he always felt somehow bolder after speaking with Sarah, added, “so fuck off.”

Brad had been turning to leave, but he slammed the door open again violently.

“What did you say to me?”

Charlie sat up. “Nothing. Just leave,” he mumbled.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said nothing!”

“Let’s get something straight, pal. This is my house. Not yours. Not your mother’s.”

“Don’t talk about my mother!” Charlie screamed, jumping off the bed as if he was going to physically challenge his stepfather.

“I was married to her!” Brad screamed back. “I can talk about her all I want!”

The two of them stood there, flushed and angry, their chests puffed out and heaving like two boxers before a fight.

“So you got anything to say to me?” Brad asked rhetorically, his obnoxious smirk practically begging to be wiped off his face, something Charlie had dreamed of doing, and worse.

Finally, Charlie backed down, as they both knew he would, and sat on the bed. “Would you just leave, please?” he asked softly.

Brad walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. For a moment, Charlie was horrified. Was he actually going to try and have some sort of father-son moment?

If he puts his arm around my shoulder, I’m gonna fucking lose it.

“Look, Charlie. I know you miss your mom, okay? I miss her, too. But she’s gone, and we both have to just try and move on.”

Charlie said nothing. The only reason he didn’t burst into tears was because he was seething. It would not be the first or last time Charlie had been saved by anger, an emotion he was coming to appreciate more and more.

“We just have to move on.”

Stop saying that!

“Nobody knows why people do what they do,” Brad continued, and Charlie really thought he was going to scream.

Why doesn’t he get the fuck out of here?

“Some people just have problems, you know?”

No shit, asshole.

“Sometimes…it’s just easier.”

“What?” Charlie asked, startling Brad, who had almost been talking to himself by that point.

“Killing yourself,” he explained. “Some people just can’t take…life, I don’t know, and they just find it easier.”

“Easier?” Charlie said. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Brad stood up, and Charlie followed. “I know somebody who better take it a little easier right now.”

“Oh, really, Brad? Should I kill myself, maybe?” he screamed. “Like my mother?”

“Calm down, Goddamnit!”

“No, you calm down!” Charlie screamed, and stepped towards Brad, backing him up. “There’s nothing easy about suicide!”

“I didn’t say it was easy, I said it was easi
er!”

“Easier than what, Brad?” Charlie demanded, taking another step and backing him up again. “Easier than letting you take over her life? Easier than watching you fuck around behind her back?”

“I said take it easy!” Brad shouted.

“You fucking killed her!”

Brad, infuriated, shoved Charlie, who fell backwards onto the floor at the foot of his bed. He started to get up, but his stepfather was on top of him in a flash, his red face hot and sputtering.

“You little shit, you don’t have any idea what I put up with!”

“What you put up with?” Charlie tried to throw him off, but Brad worked out regularly and outweighed him by fifty pounds.

“That’s right, kid,” Brad spat. “Your mother was a drug addict!”

“Because of you!”

“She was worthless and weak, and that’s why she killed herself, because she couldn’t take life!”

“She should have taken you with her!” Charlie screamed. He was crying now, but his anger was such that he had no idea. If he had had a gun or a knife he would have killed Brad right then and there. If his hands were free, he would have beaten him to death with his skateboard or stabbed him with a coat hanger or killed him any way he could.

At that moment, Charlie wanted nothing more than to kill Brad and then himself and end the pain forever.

Brad struggled to hold his wrists. The kid was getting hard to handle. He honestly didn’t know what Charlie would do if he let him up at that moment.

“Okay, okay,” Brad said, trying to calm things down. “Relax. Just…take a breath.”

Charlie looked up at him with the eyes of an animal. The hatred was so intense he couldn’t imagine Brad didn’t feel its heat. But he stopped struggling. It was hard to breathe with that asshole sitting on his chest, and Charlie just wanted him out of his room so he could calm down and think. He tried to relax his face, to appear as if he was no longer angry, but he didn’t want to say anything. The first one of them to speak now would be weak, in Charlie’s mind, and the irony of that belief was lost on him.

Just get out,
Charlie thought, willing his stepfather to leave.

As if he’d heard, or maybe because Charlie’s concentration was actually having the desired effect of relaxing his body in spite of himself, Brad let go of Charlie and got to his feet. The boy’s wrists were as red as his face.

He stood over his stepson for a moment, wondering whether he should say something.
Jesus, the kid wore me out,
he thought.
I can barely breathe.

Finally, Brad turned and walked out of the room, purposely leaving the door open as a tiny, childish victory.

I need to get rid of that little fuck,
he thought as he went downstairs to make himself a drink.
At least his stupid bitch of a mother did one thing right. Thank Christ she gave me some time, otherwise the kid could...fuck.

Brad shuddered at the thought of Charlie inheriting half his assets.

“‘He can’t know until he’s twenty-one, otherwise he’ll get lazy’,” Brad spoke aloud in a whiny, high-pitched voice, imitating Charlie’s mother. He laughed at the thought of her ignorance, and his laughter swelled, turning into an evil, raspy cough that grew larger, like a snowball rolling downhill, gaining momentum and becoming bigger and bigger until he very nearly choked on the rage that lay just beneath it.

Charlie lay there on the floor for a while, allowing his breathing to slowly return to normal. He heard Brad banging around downstairs for a few minutes and then some massive coughing fit, and then there was silence.

Maybe he choked to death,
Charlie thought.
Probably just getting drunk in the den.

Charlie briefly considered waiting until Brad fell asleep and then slitting his throat, but he suddenly wanted to accomplish a few things before he succumbed to that desire.

Sarah was coming over in a few days, after all, and they had plans.

Big plans.

But killing Brad was definitely on his bucket list.

8
MONTHS AFTER TOWY WEBSITE

THE HILL

.

Bipartisan House group fails to reach an agreement on TOWY resolution

By Rusty Bachman 11:25 AM ET

 . 

Lawmakers negotiating a proposal to curb the growing TOWY movement could not come to terms acceptable to enough committee members to allow the bill into conference. The lower chamber’s response to the Senate bill means that TOWY legislation is probably dead for the year. “This was time to be part of the process,” a Democratic negotiator, Rep. Candace McMillan (D-Chicago), said Friday afternoon. She added she had been “cautiously optimistic” about the bill’s success in the House up until the morning of the vote, when liberal groups such as the ACLU banded together with libertarian leaning conservatives to pressure the members of the committee to vote down the measure. Civil libertarians on the left were concerned the bill would lead to new restrictions on the rights of the accused, while conservatives disliked additional mental health funding included in the bill.
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Sarah never admitted to Charlie that she showed up early on purpose just to fuck with him, and he never came out and asked her, either. But it was pretty obvious that she was used to doing things her own way, and Sarah’s way was very often the way that fucked with other people whether it was necessary or not.

It was almost as if it amused her.

He had joked about it with her online, long before they met in person, and she admitted that there was something inside her that liked messing with people, that liked the conflict,
needed it,
and while it kind of scared him at first, there was also something exciting about it. Sexy, even. That was why he had agreed so easily that day to make the drive to see her. Even though he knew his mother was acting strangely.

Charlie hadn’t been getting along too well with his mom back then, but he should have known better than to leave her that day. He should have been with her.

Except that he had left. Because he wanted to see Sarah.

Sarah, who was a coiled spring held back with a single pin, always in danger of releasing her kinetic energy your way. Sarah always seemed to be in motion, even when she was standing still. There was an unpredictability that Charlie found incredibly attractive.

She reminded him of an old silent movie he’d watched in school, some Russian film about a mutiny on a ship or something. There was lots of death and dying, and some really cool stuff on the steps of a big building, but what he remembered most was that he never knew what was coming next. There was a tension and uncertainty about it.

Just like with Sarah.

“I’m more like a hand grenade,”
she’d told him at the restaurant the night they first met in person.
“There’s your loose pin, dude.”

They’d laughed and had a great time until the unpredictable intervened. What attracted him to Sarah drove them apart the night of his mother’s death.

But it was a separation that proved short-lived.

They were connected, just like Jesus Two Bears and Melissa were. What Charlie wasn’t sure of was whether they would remain so. He was acutely aware of what happened to the other “connection”.

Charlie stared at himself in the mirror. His mother always told him from the time he was a little boy, that he would grow into his looks. He’d never really understood what she meant until after she was gone. He’d always taken it as a kind of backhanded compliment, like she was calling him ugly, but maybe he’d look good when he got older. Even after she explained what she really meant, he never quite understood until it was too late to share with her.

“It means I can see the man you’re going to become one day, Charlie.” His mother looked at him with sad, wizened eyes. “I wish sometimes you wouldn’t take things so much to heart.”

He tried to smile, but tears filled his eyes instead.

She pulled him close, and unlike so many other times since the death of his father, when Charlie felt too self conscious to fully embrace her, as if being “the man of the house now”, as Minister Webber had put it, precluded such gestures, Charlie hugged his mother back so tightly she had to physically loosen his grip in order to breathe.

His mother rocked him gently, loving his acquiescence but hating his anguish. After a few moments, she pulled away and held his face in her hands.

“You are a kind, sensitive boy, Charlie. And you’re going to grow into a kind, sensitive man. The kind of man any mother would be proud of.”

Charlie looked down at his phone. He should have told Sarah to come earlier. Charlie messed with his hair some more, but there was only so much he could do.

Then he heard laughter.
Female
laughter.

He checked his phone again. Too early. It couldn’t be her. One of Brad’s girlfriends. He hated the thought of having to walk past them when Sarah arrived. Maybe he should sneak out the window and wait for her out front.

More laughter. This time it sounded familiar.

No.
Please no.
He cracked the door and listened. He could hear Brad talking, and then…her voice. Charlie threw open his door and ran downstairs.

When he walked into the living room, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Sarah was sitting on the couch next to Brad, and they were sitting really close.

Really close.

The three of them just looked at each other for a split second, and then Charlie completely lost it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted, and for a moment neither of them knew who he was talking to. Charlie wasn’t sure, either.

“We’re just talking, dude, chill,” Sarah said. Her blue jean skirt was very short, and Charlie couldn’t help but notice how high it rode up her thighs before she quickly stood up. He hated the fact that she had included the word
just
in that sentence.

Brad remained seated with a stupid grin on his face, as if he was gloating, or something. At least, that was how Charlie saw it. He wanted to smash him with something, anything, to make him stop smiling.

“Ready to go?” Sarah asked brightly, a little too brightly, if you asked Charlie. Sarah was not a chipper person, which made her sound really, really fake. At least, that was how Charlie saw it. He felt like he was in some kind of a carnival funhouse, with everything he heard and saw distorted beyond recognition.

There probably wasn’t much of anything either of them could have said or done at that moment that was beyond his paranoid misinterpretations, but he was too mad to allow that fact to derail his focus.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Charlie screamed.

“Charlie, relax.” Sarah said.

Hearing that word only incensed Charlie more. Brad had told him to relax the week before in his room just before landing on his chest.

“Don’t tell me that!” he screamed.

“We were just talking,” Brad said, standing up. Again with the
just.
Whenever someone said they were
just
doing something, chances are they’re doing that and a whole lot more. Brad started to move towards Charlie, but Sarah stopped him by
putting her hand on his arm.

If there was any possible way she could have made things worse besides straddling his stepfather right in front of him, that was probably it.

“That’s right, C,” Sarah said, stepping in front of Brad, her eyes boring into Charlie’s. “We were just talking.”

“Stop saying that!”

Sarah suddenly rushed towards Charlie and got right in his face. “That’s right,” she said. “I was just about to come get you. Now let’s go.”

There was something in her voice that made Charlie shut up and obey, but he wasn’t going to let this go. No way. Sarah took his arm and the two of them awkwardly strode to the front door, side-by-side.

Charlie threw open the door and walked out, but Sarah turned.

“Nice meeting you, Brad,” she said, before quickly closing the door, leaving Charlie’s stepfather sporting that stupid grin and a guilty erection.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Charlie demanded once they were in Sarah’s car. She ignored the questions and tore down the street, narrowly missing an elderly jogger who flipped them off.

Charlie closed his eyes and tried to calm down, but it wasn’t working. He hated the fact that he was so upset even more than the fact she had been sitting and talking to Brad. It wasn’t even like he believed there was something going on, it was that Brad had seen her. Had his eyes on her.

He’s probably jerking off right now.

Suddenly the car veered to the curb and Sarah slammed on the brakes, nearly throwing Charlie into the windshield. He’d been so upset he had forgotten to put on his seatbelt.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

Charlie looked at Sarah, confused. How could
she
be mad at
him
?

“What?”

“Who’s jerking off?”

Charlie’s confusion intensified, then turned to surprise. “Did I say that out loud?”

Sarah stared at him like he was an alien being for a moment, and then she burst out laughing, and as mad as Charlie had been, he couldn’t help but join her. Every time he tried to stop and bring up what had happened back at his house, they would look at each other and start laughing all over again.

It was probably the laughter that made Charlie so unprepared for what happened next. He should have been ready, he really should. After all, he’d been thinking of little else ever since they made the date, which wasn’t even really a date, but who cared? Nobody actually went on dates, anyway, they just hung out.

Hell, he’d been obsessing over it for a lot longer than that. Probably since they met online.

The point was, Charlie had been imagining the kiss forever, but he was still totally shocked when Sarah suddenly leaned across the center console and kissed him.

He kept his eyes open, probably from the shock, but as she slid her hands from the back of his neck around to his face, gently caressing him, Charlie felt himself ease into it, like descending into a warm bath.

Her tongue was full and insistent, alternating between pure eroticism and playful teasing. She moaned and sucked, and he felt himself instantly and fully erect. He wanted to move his hands over her body but instead they fell to his sides like limp noodles, as if to contrast with the teenage monster raging uncomfortably in his jeans.

He felt her body push towards his as she practically climbed into his lap, her arms around him now, pulling him in as if she wanted to force her way through him. Charlie responded with his suddenly working arms, pulling her on top of him. The feel of the bra strap across her back was incredible, his fingers toying with the hook and clasp through the thin material of her blouse.

When they finally allowed space between their lips, the windows of the car were fogged and the only sound either of them heard, in spite of the cars whizzing past on the busy street, was their deep, heavy breathing, synchronized and sensuous.

Neither of them could speak, so they simply held the embrace.

After several lifetimes had passed, Charlie finally found his voice, and the words he spoke made her love him even more than she had only recently realized she did.

“Best first kiss, ever,” he whispered.

It was not Sarah’s first kiss. As a matter of fact, she was quite experienced in that regard. It was also her experience that most guys her age were braggarts and liars, always looking at sex as if it was some sort of contest, like some video game that gave them extra lives if they scored so many points.  They were always trying to impress her, something they had in common with older men, all of them somehow missing the point entirely that she wanted to feel special, and that meant she had no interest at all in prior conquests.

Charlie made her feel special. By simply being honest and open and vulnerable.

Sarah climbed off his lap and settled back in behind the wheel.

“So what do you think?”

Charlie looked at her. He was so crazy in love right then, or maybe just crazy, that at first he thought she wanted him to rate her kiss with some sort of numerical value, like a score at the Olympics.

Fortunately, Charlie thought before he spoke.

This time.

“About what?”

She lowered her chin and looked up through the passenger side window, and he turned around. There was nothing out there, just an apartment building with a sign in front that read
No Vacancy.

No Vacancy.

“Did you – ?”

She smiled and nodded. “I did.”

“But...”

He looked around. Sarah had rented an apartment right around the corner. They couldn’t have driven more than a few minutes from his neighborhood.

It was that thought that ruined everything. As Sarah laughed and leaned over to hug him, what had happened back at his house flooded back into his consciousness like a sour tide, refilling the void that her amazing kiss had only recently vacated.

Charlie knew he shouldn’t say it, but he did, anyway. Like untold numbers of men who came before him, Charlie was about to learn something about women by saying the exact wrong thing at the worst possible time.

The benefit of leaving well enough alone.

He pulled away slightly and blurted out what he was thinking.

“So. What
were
you guys doing?”

Sarah’s eyes changed, and he immediately regretted his words. He had taken what was a wonderful moment of bonding and turned it into shit, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

She sat back in her seat and stared out the windshield, grasping the steering wheel tightly.

“Get the fuck out of my car.”

“Sarah – ”

“Get out!” she screamed, and reached past him for the door handle, yanking it open. He was hyper-conscious of her body even then, her breasts pressed against his thighs for the briefest of moments.