Page 130 of Dirty Chorus

“Why?”

“You were starting school, and I'm a bit of a mess.”

I think my smile disappeared for a second as he looks away from me. Almost as if he doesn’t feel the radiating warmth for me that I do in my chest for him.

I swallow the dry lump in my throat. My tongue feels swollen as if I can’t ask anything else, but the question is there. “Did I lose my virginity to you?”

He glances at me for a long moment, his eyes hazy, a light smile over his face as if he were envisioning it inside his head. “Yeah. You did.”

My heart stumbles and trips over itself, and I think it splattered all over the floor. “Do you love me?”

He exhales, his chest rising up as he says, “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

My throat tightens as the feeling is deeply ingrained in my bones, it’s all over my body that he’s done something to me. Nothing bad at all, but it feels different and perfect like he’s been the only person I ever really loved myself. But there’s something else there.

“But you're leaving?”

He nods, the smile washing from his face. “Yeah, we are scheduled to go on tour late spring, before summer hits. We have several months, but your cheerleading schedule, class work, the band needing to record an album… I didn’t want to drag you around and have both of us getting hurt in the end, but I told you I would try. I’ll do what it takes to make it work.”

I blink away the tears because it’s hitting me that this is why he didn’t make it exclusive with me in the first place. He continues steadily, “I want to make it work with you. I know you have a lot of healing to do, and I'm willing to help you in any way I can.”

“Where is your grandfather?” I ask.

Noah goes dead silent, and it's as if all the air leaves his lungs. “He passed away...” He bites his bottom lip nodding his head at me. His eyes tear up turning red. “He really liked you,” I watch his adams apple bob up and down as he swallows. “It was one of the last things he said to me.”

“No...” I feel my heart crush in, as if someone shoved their fist through my chest cavity. I place two hands over my face. “No, please...”

“I’m sorry Charlie,” Noah says as my head falls into the crease of his neck. “I’m fucking hurt over it too. But we’ll get through it. I promise.” His arms wrap around me and I melt into his warmth as I cry, and I can feel the warm tears on his cheeks too.

Chapter 61

Noah

It’s January. It's been three months. The apartment is more roomier than before. I’ve been selling a lot of the old furniture or hauling it off to the dump. All of Gramps’ medical equipment went straight to the church and they seemed to appreciate it. I can’t afford much, but there’s a nice couch from Walmart and one of those cheaper three hundred dollar televisions that mount on the wall. It never felt so good dumping that box TV out of the bed of my truck.

The only downside is the record store closing. It’s going into Gramp’s estate, but I get to keep the apartment.

The album is finished too. We’ve written new songs, and cleaned up all of our other tracks. Charlie has written us songs too. I bought her a new notebook, and she’s used every color Sharpie she owns to write poems and lyrics. When she shows the guys, we work out some kinks or the lyrics and try to find beats that would match. We could honestly have an entire album about one nasty breakup.

There have been a few teasers released and within a week one of them gained five million listens. We’ve blown up everywhere, and I’m not sure what’s up with women these days but girls into those spicy porno books like using a few of those songs in their videos. I shouldn’t act surprised because we’ve reached over a million followers. It was kinda an overnight deal. I keep having to hit myself in the head, and make sure I’m not dreaming.

Charlie moved in too. She didn’t want to stay at her mothers house, and she wasn’t about to go back to the dorms either. She started a few online classes, but fell behind rather quickly. I was surprised at myself for being able to sit next to her and help her with some of the basic courses on literature.

Tonight Charlie passed out early, mid-way through writing a paper. The book was in her lap and everything. She looked peaceful, so I ended up carrying her to bed, and she didn’t hesitate in stealing the blankets and putting herself in a cocoon.

I’ve been up. I can’t sleep and the clock on the stove says 1:57am. The numbers are glowing, and it taunts me. I’ve already tried the sleepy tea, some boring documentary, and sheep aren’t going to help either. My insomnia is kicking my ass tonight. My brain just loops in circles with thoughts about the tour, the band, making sure not to let down our fans, and Charlie. Especially Charlie.

It’s kinda like clockwork when I hear it. The softening cry in the bedroom that slowly turns into a blistering scream. Not from the streets outside, or the television playing, but her.

It rips through the quiet, and it shakes me to the core, a chill races through me. My feet slam against the floor racing down the hallway and into the bedroom.

“Charlie!”

Sweat sticks to my palms when I reach the bedside. She's thrashing under the covers, eyes squeezed shut, breathing coming out like she’s choking. I climb onto the bed, grasping her face between my hands. “Hey, hey! It’s me. Wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe. You’re with me.”

Charlie’s lashes flicker, and she chokes up a sob, her eyes glossy with tears. She glances around the room like she's still half asleep and caught up in her nightmare.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, brushing her hair back with the flat hand. “It’s just a dream.”