Page 84 of Dirty Chorus

I let it off my chest, exhaling a deep breath. “Look, your ex-boyfriend came storming in here yesterday, threatening me and wrecking several items in the store. Him and his little football posse.”

Charlie’s eyebrows crunch together, her thick lashes blink as if she doesn’t understand what I said. “He did what?”

“When I watched how this game unfolded, you were so angry at him. I feel like you used me to get back at him and I’m just here letting you drag me around on this fucking crazy-ass ride.” I stroke her arm with a hand, and when I release my grip, she reaches for my hand, taking her fingers in mine. “Once your brother stormed into the room, and I left, I looked for Omen... and ended up seeing you fighting with Brody downstairs. I...” I bite my bottom lip holding in the pain lodged in my chest. “I feel like you’re messing with my head. I’m not some football star. I just don’t know where this is going. I don’t want to hurt you... but I can’t see this working in the direction it’s going.”

“I don’t want a football player. I want you.” She shakes her head, her pretty grey eyes sparkling like daisies glimmer. “He was giving me shit for being with you. I just want to move on from him.”

She wants me?

“Fuck, Charlie. This shit has to stop. No more parties, no pot, no stealing. I can’t deal with that and then you telling me...”

“Telling you what?”

“I swear you told me that you...”

I pause. She said she loved me. But I could have been hallucinating. The entire room was a hotbox of weed, and the secondhand smoke got my heart rate pumping. But she said something to me, and I don’t use those words. I have no idea what the definition is. I refuse to spell it out or put it on paper, but the second I see Charlie, my heart of stone is being chiseled away, and it’s turning into pure throbbing flesh. I can’t, I fucking can’t feel this way.

She rubs her upper arms. “I’m sorry... I guess I should go.” She pulls away from my grip and crosses her arms.

“Here...” I pat down my pockets, pulling out two tickets I snagged for a concert we were booked at. “The band has a chance of getting scouted. You should come.” I hand them to her, but before I can say anything else, Payton struts back over waving a CD in her hand.

“I found something,” Payton chuckles with a big toothy grin.

I chat with them for a few more minutes about Gramps and the band, stirring the conversation away from last night’s dumpster fire. I ring up Payton and her items, and when I hand back her change, my heart is twenty times more brittle than it was before. As they both make their way to the exit, Charlie glances back at me, a pretty little face that’s hard for me to erase from my memory. Her cute button nose, her rosy cheeks, and those swollen lips, all of it has me messed up.

Chapter 38

Charlie

Isit on the edge of Payton’s bed, staring at the worn, pink princess sheets. If I still had mine, I would be mortified. They needed to be set on fire, and knowing her, they were coming with us to the dorms.

Her room looks like it lost a fight with itself. Half-packed totes were scattered across the floor, spilling out with hoodies, tangled chargers, and a million CDs she’s collected. Another tote sits in front of her dresser. It has clothes tossed in it like they had been shot from a cannon.

Payton paces around, back and forth, holding a crumbled trash bag in one hand and yanking open her dresser drawers with the other. Somewhere in the corner, the vacuum cleaner has been running for over ten minutes straight. I scoot myself off the mattress and press the power button on the vacuum so my ears can finally breathe.

Payton flinches slightly. “Shoot, I forgot I left that on.” Payton placed the trash bag on the floor and bent on a knee to yank the plug from the wall, winding the black cord with jerky movements. “God, I need to take this out.” She doesn’t even finish winding up the cord and her pacing resumes, grabbing the trash bag again. “Ugh... I’m almost done with my closet.”

I sit back down on the bed, tucking my legs under me. My stomach felt tight, like I’d swallowed something sharp.. “So... about the other night.” I say, biting my bottom lip the second the words leave my mouth.

Payton freezes mid-step. “Yeah... what about it?” Her tone is casual, but with a hint of tension behind it. She scurries to the closet and yanks a sweatshirt off the hanger with too much force and starts to fold it like it had done something to offend her. Then she shoves it into the tote, still refusing to look at me.

“I’m sorry, truly I am. I wasn’t thinking… I just…” I say.

“It’s fine…”

“No it’s not. I love you so much. I shouldn’t have put you through that.” I watch her, my pulse flickering under my skin. “What happened when I left the room? Did you... land on someone during Roulette?” I ask. She pauses for a heartbeat. Her eyes flicker across the room, scanning everything and nothing, before she shakes her head and grabs another handful of clothes. It’s like my question bounced off the walls instead of hitting her.

“Are you mad at me or something?” I ask.

“No... and no,” she snaps, throwing her palms up. “I just need to finish packing.”

“I’m serious.”

Payton drops the clothes. Just letting them fall to her feet like dead weight. “I’m fine!” she snaps. The words break through the quiet like a slamming door. Her chest rises and falls fast. Her hands curl into fist at her sides, but she loosens them just as quickly.

My heart sinks somewhere behind my ribs.“Well... I’m gonna go then.” I point my head toward the door, and she doesn’t say anything to keep me planted in her room. She stands there with arms stiff, and a tight jaw.

“Okay...” she says, and it hurts worse than if she’d screamed. I stroll out and shut her bedroom door behind me. The soft click of it landed heavier than it should have. I’m halfway down the hall before Ryder’s voice hits me like a brick. You’re a shitty-ass friend. It feels like I'm swallowing broken glass. My hands are numb as my sides as I stroll out of the trailer she lives in and I rush to the Honda, getting in. I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and text Noah. He might be the only thing to take my mind off what I’ve potentially put Payton through.