Chapter 31

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Playing On

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Playing On

In silence, Hayden lays in his bed, staring up into the dark abyss, which seems to be swallowing him whole. It is too dark for him to make anything out, even his own fingers. Turning his head slightly, he checks what time it is and realizes that it's almost two in the morning. What is he doing right now? He should be sound asleep, dreaming of the day when he and Cecilia could be together without any obstacles keeping them apart. So why isn't he?

With shaky breaths, he looks back up towards the ceiling before his eyes clench shut. Why is he like this? Why is he needlessly worrying about Charlie...again?

Jillian said she was fine. Yet, despite knowing that no harm has come to the girl, this incessant feeling keeps gnawing at the insides of his chest, not allowing him to have the peace and quiet he so desperately craves. The comfortable and safe stability he's been accustomed to nowhere to be found. It's like this heavy weight is sitting on top of his heart, unwilling to go away, as though it wants him to stay awake and experience the uneasiness he's always been keen of avoiding.

The uncertainty, which makes Hayden question not only himself, but everything he has ever known.

Whenever he's with Charlie, especially when they were younger, Hayden had always been the worrywart out of the two. How could he not be? Charlie's reckless; she's brash and painfully honest, constantly voicing out her opinions, even if they might result with her going home with a bloody nose and several bruises. She wasn't (and still isn't) the most sentimentally inclined person in the world, but somehow, that stubbornly violent girl, who swears like a sailor, always manages to make his heart stammer.

Even when he's hopelessly in love with somebody else.

Hayden knows this sounds terrible. He also knows very well that what he's thinking isn't right. It goes against everything he believes in. But forgetting your childhood love is easier said than done. It's an even harder thing to do when she lives just down the street from him and he runs into her almost every day. And now? It's practically impossible for Hayden to wash away the memories they shared when she's the person holding him together, keeping his life from tearing at the seams.

Call him selfish, call him cruel, but Hayden's heart might just be beating for two.

The next morning, Charlie wakes up well past noon, but that's nothing out of the ordinary for her. Drowsily, she wanders downstairs, successfully steering clear from a trip to the emergency room. She immediately finds her way to the refrigerator and begins to scavenge for something to eat.

Orange juice sounds incredible, especially for her throat, which feels extremely parched. Charlie finds a liter of it stashed in the back, uncaps it and chugs it straight out of the carton. The doorbell echoes throughout the house and after closing the fridge with her butt, she goes to answer it.

Hayden is staring at his feet, wondering if he should just leave as the cold October air nips at his skin. Suddenly, he hears the door open and lifts his head up. Charlie is decked out in a large, dark gray Marvel t-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. In her grasp is a carton of her favorite drink and the boy finds himself looking at her without uttering a single word. "What are you doing here?" she questions, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice reels him back to reality and Hayden's senses return.

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