Chasing Charlie

Chapter Twenty-Nine | Scars and Messed Up Teens

Charlie

I stretched my arms above my head, confused to why I didn’t hit my head on the bed above. My eyes were still closed, as I flipped my body to face the other side, pushing an object, probably some books, closer to the edge. I snuggled closer into the pillows, moving the object further to the edge, until a loud thud fell to the floor, dragging me down with it.

I scrunched my face up in pain and opened my eyes to see what the object was. I was surprised to see a startled Chase, rubbing his head, only blue shorts clothing his upper legs, and lying on the ground with my body on top.

I rolled to the spot next to him, on the floor, still in the same clothes and items from yesterday.

His face was slightly scrunched up in pain, as he reached up to rub the top part of his back, as if it would help in some way. He swore under his breath and looked up at me, eyes droopy, hair messy, a light frown tugging at his lips. I couldn’t help but swoon in my mind.

I kept staring at him, as if looking away would make him disappear. Then I looked down at the part of his thighs he started to rub. A light, white bandage stuck out from underneath.

I sat up instantly, reaching out towards it. His eyes darted to what had caught my eye and he moved away from my outstretching hand.

“What are you hiding?” I asked.

“Nothing,” his hoarse voice replied.

I knew there was something, but went against saying it. “Okay.”

I got up, bringing his chair to him. Quickly, he got into it and sped away towards the bathroom.  

I sighed and stretched again. I yawned and let my messy hair loose. Stumbling the few steps into bed, I collapsed and placed my arms under the pillow. Sleep overtook in a matter of minutes.

____

“Wake up!” A voice shouted.

I kept sleeping, turning the other way.

“Charlie, get outta my bed!” The deep voice yelled.

“Mmm, later,” I mumbled.

Two fingers poked my waist and I leaped out of bed, eyes wide, hair a mess.

“What the hell!” I screamed, glaring at the shirtless boy.

He slightly smiled and turned around, heading towards his cupboard, where his clothes were.  “We need to go.”

I followed after him, just out of curiosity and I noticed something on his back that I never realised was there. A thick, caterpillar like scar, surrounded by other small, white scars, ran down his back, like a never-ending pattern.

I gasped, tracing the biggest scar with my finger. I started to trace the scars on his back, him tensing under my touch.

“How far down can you feel?”

“Doctors always said up to my L-2. I never really understood what it meant, all I knew was that it was a bone in my spinal cord, the one that broke. Keep tracing your finger down, I’ll tell you when I can’t feel anything.”

I traced my finger down his spine from his neck.

My finger started tracing down the biggest scar on his back, when around his waist, he said, “stop.”

It was the most scarred area on his back, and I couldn’t help but stare in awe at how brave he had to be to go through something like that.

“Did it hurt?”