The Meaning of Charlie Armanio

XIII

IF THERE'S ANYTHING I am hundred per cent sure of, with the exception of how much I weigh, simply addition and subtraction and that Earth orbits the Sun, it's that Zoe Pindoli inevitably, irrevocably, hates my guts. The origin of this hate, I don't know but it's no secret that I don't like her either. But, for the sake of knowing more about the case and just finding how she's doing, I walk up to her that Monday and try to talk to her.

She's huddled up with her posse – typical high school: good looking, athletic star players, beautiful cheerleaders, her best friend Darcy, and her back up posse – in case Darcy ever didn't agree with her and... James. Just seeing him makes my heart start to pump in my chest a bit harder than before, and when he smiles at me causing his brown eyes to twinkle, my skin tingles. And all I want to do is run over to him and tell him to ask me out again, but I don't. He's dressed casual, in a figure hugging turtleneck – that makes his muscles budge out more – and a pair of blue jeans, tucked into his boots. It's a sight to see, I must admit, especially with Joey standing beside him almost in the exact same thing.

When I stop in front of them, they don't acknowledge my presence, just Joey, who gives me a brief nod in greeting and returns to his conversation. I scoff lowly to myself and roll my eyes, realising that's his way of apologising for all he's done to my best friend because now he feels guilty.

Some part of me is actually shocked because he doesn't pepper me with false sentiment. His actions and words – well lack thereof – speak so loud and clear. He doesn't care. It doesn't bother him and I'm almost pleased that he is not lying about it, and God forbid, adding flowers to that stupid shrine. Joey just couldn't be arsed about the situation with Charlie. He didn't know him; he didn't talk to him – aside the usual taunting and gibes – and he is so honest with himself and doesn't pretend Charlie's temporary absence is a huge loss for him.

If he didn't bully my best friend and made my other best friend feel like starving herself, I might have considered befriending him. He's plainly honest and Lord knows I need some plane honesty right now. But he did – bully my best friends. And let's be honest, who'd want to befriend the loony senior girl with no friends – but the 'suicidal local boy' and his trusty side-kick – 'theanorexiac'.

They continue to talk and it's all light chatter and boisterous laughter and touches and name-calling. It's almost beautiful to see. How each of them laughs, how they behave around each other as opposed to how they behave alone and the weirdest thing happens. I think I'm smiling, after a long while, not at them but because of them. The people, who no doubt, had something to do with the states of my best friends, are making me smile genuinely.

While laughing at something Zoe had said, his brown eyes twinkling dangerously, he plucks a rubber bad off his wrist and begins to push back his brown tresses of curly hair so he can hold it up in a ponytail. There's something totally aesthetic about the way James tries to tie his hair back. The way his head tilts a bit further back than necessary, the way he'd have to shake his head to get them fuller, the way when I caught his eyes while he's putting the rubber band over the collected mess, he freezes and just stares for a minute, then smiles.

I smile back, and in return he raises his eyebrow as if to ask what are you doing here? Over the time that Charlie and Zoe had a deep thing, it was obvious that I did everything in my power to stay away from her, but me willingly walking towards her raises questions that I do not want to answer.

So, I shake my head and tap on Zoe's shoulder. It seems to happen in slow motion, how she turns to face me almost slowly. My heart rams against my ribcage, as she narrows her eyes at me. She looks every bit as vindictive as rumours say. She's way taller than me, adding to my disadvantage and her friends' eyes narrow when they see I'm the one who disrupted their conversation. My hands get clammy at all the attention on me, because as much I'd want it to be just Zoe and me talking privately, wherever Zoe goes, the attention seems to follow.