Chasing Charlie [REWRITE]

Chapter Seven

Charlie

It doesn't feel right sitting here all alone. The emptiness around me is constricting and nauseating. I feel a thousand eyes on me, staring as they walk past. A million whispers are spreading rumours about me. I feel the judgement through the glances thrown my way. This isn't what lunch used to be like.

The loneliness is welcoming yet too much, all at once. I don't feel like talking, yet I don't want to be alone. I've been alone for so long now that I'm craving attention. I want someone to talk to yet I don't want anyone to look at me. I'm so confused by my pounding thoughts that I'm not surprised by the headache that takes hostage of me.

As if realising the internal battle I'm in with my thoughts, I see Chase approaching the bench I'm at. His white school shirt is covered with a few drops of brightly coloured paint as are his hands and his hair is even more dishevelled than it was at assembly this morning. He has the widest grin on his face, as if he's up to something and his right leg is bouncing up and down wildly as his left just trembles.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all by herself?" He rolls up next to me and places his elbows on the table right besides mine.

I'm conflicted by what to do or say. We haven't spoken in a couple days, since he made fun of me for asking if his life is hard. I feel so embarrassed that it just came out.

"You know I'm not offended, if anything I'm glad you were blunt," as he's talking, he reaches down and looks to be holding his legs still. He holds them for about a minute but it doesn't help and they go back to bouncing. He releases a loud sigh and instead grabs his rims and pushes up on them to lift himself off the seat. Another few moments pass and he lowers himself back down and adjusts his feet that have come off during the lift.

"Is it annoying?" I can't help but ask.

He looks up at me, wide blue eyes staring directly at me, a tiny smile forming on his lips. "Annoying when they fall forward or when I'm in the middle of something and they won't stop moving. Thankfully they don't fall backward anymore thanks to my calf strap. I used to ride over my feet all the time as a kid. But I hate taking meds for it, unless it gets really bad since I take so many other meds for other shit."

Chase talking is the best distraction my mind has at drowning out the environment. I'm glad that his talkative nature will make me focus on him instead of the panic I feel whenever I look at my surroundings. He looks relaxed and at ease, someone I used to be. Before I lose myself in my thoughts, I ask him, "what other meds do you take?"

His eyebrows furrow at the question, as if confused. "That's one I've never heard before. To be honest, I don't even completely know since mum just sorts them out and I zone out during appointments. I know it's a lot for all sorts of stuff but yeah, couldn't tell you what's what."

I nod because I don't know what else to say. He's so at ease and carefree and I hate that I can't be like that. It's frustrating that I know how well my old self would've gotten along with him. How despite my first worries about interacting with a disabled individual, there aren't any differences in the way we talk. I hate that I'm standing in the shadow of who I used to be that I can't seem to step out of, no matter who tries to help. I hate that I'm hard on myself for being this way, yet I don't want to do anything about it. I hate getting consumed by my thoughts, even when I'm interacting with others.

Chase continues to stare at me, blue curious eyes looking me over. "Come city with me Saturday," he states randomly.

I frown and shake my head. My mind goes into overdrive just thinking of all the scenarios that would make me panic. People everywhere. A crowded train. Eyes. Hundreds of thousands of eyes and whispers all around. No way.