OUT OF THE BLUE [HS]

Chapter Nineteen

   "Well, damn girl, look at you! Looks like not having me around was bad for your good-girl charm." Charli said, lightly pushing my arm once I'd told her everything.
  "Please, having you gone was the highlight of my life. Please do it more often." I joked, and put the lid back on the chocolate chip ice-cream we'd devoured through our catch up.
   "So, do you... you know." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.
   "Know what?"
   "You know... do you love him?"
I almost choked on my Coke and felt the bubbles try to come out of my nose.
   "Charli, it's only been like, three days or something."
   "I know! But you've already fucked him so things must be happening pretty quick between you two."
   "Shut up. I don't love him yet, it's too soon. What I do know is that he makes me happy, and I'm just trying to enjoy that without having to question the timing too much."
   "Fair enough. Was he a good lay though?"
   "Charli!" I yelled, and smacked her with the pillow.
   "What! I have to make sure my girl is only getting banged by the best!"

Charli made me cringe so much sometimes. She was so comfortable being completely herself, no matter what the situation or conversation. I envied her a little. I was never 100% confident in myself. I held my tongue more often than I didn't, and even though my short time with Harry was definitely bringing me out my shell, I still wasn't ready to really see what I was made of. I was insecure about a lot of things. If I had it my way, I'd look in the mirror every morning and be perfectly happy with who I saw, but the truth is, since Dad died, I didn't really know who I was anymore. When you lose someone you love, it's like a piece of you goes with them; I guess I was yet to find out what part of me that was.

Charli showed me all the photos she had taken on her trip. It was amazing to see Europe through her eyes. She told me this amazing story about a night she spent with some girlfriends in Amsterdam, and how they ate a bunch of pot brownies before trying to find the bench from The Fault In Our Stars, and Charli cried her eyes out, convinced that Gus and Hazel were real and had actually died. Neither of us were really into drugs, but 'when in Amsterdam!'. She surprised me by pulling a canvas tote bag full of presents out of the front of one of her suitcases.
   "Reserved you a space" she said, removing it carefully from the straps and zips.
   "You're crazy, you didn't have to get me anything!"
   "Shut the fuck up and open them!"
The tote bag was filled with brown paper packages, and Charli had stuck stickers of flags on each of them, so I knew where they came from. In the Italy package, there was a pin of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and a keychain with a slice of pizza on it. From Switzerland, a beautiful snow-globe containing a miniature section of The Alps. Sunglasses from Spain, a set of red, and a set of black lingerie from France, and finally, at the very bottom was a big black box with the Union Jack on the top. I removed it from the bag, and it was heavy. I shot her an angry look, because she had already spoiled me so much, but I opened the lid and peeked inside. My hands immediately moved to cover my mouth in shock, and my eyes welled up with tears. Inside the box was a mint condition copy of The Beatles Abbey Road on vinyl, an art booked filled with Beatles inspired artwork, and a picture of Charli walking across the famous crosswalk. 
   "I couldn't go to England, and not go. I know how much it means to you."
I flipped the photo over in my hand, and Charli had written on the back of it. 
'Love is old, love is new, love is all, love is you.'
I immediately engulfed her into a massive hug, and it wasn't until then I realised I'd starting crying.

To my Dad, The Beatles were everything. He raised me from day one to be a fan. Every Sunday we'd listen to Abbey Road while we made breakfast together, singing to Here Comes The Sun, and Come Together as loud as we could. Dad's favourite song was Because and we'd always attempt the harmonies, but we knew we'd never be as good as The Beatles. The Christmas before he died, I had surprised him with $500 cash in a jar which I labelled 'Abbey Road'. Every day he'd put whatever cash he had on him into it, building up the savings until we had enough for a family trip to the UK. All Dad ever wanted was to walk the crosswalk in Charli's picture. Unfortunately, he died before he could.

   "Thank you so much, Charli. It's perfect." I said, breaking the hug, and wiping away tears.
   "You're welcome, babe. I knew you'd love it."

We cleaned up the mess of all the wrapping paper, put our pyjamas on and hopped into bed, tapping away at our phones and making light conversation about people who popped up on our social media feed. Charli was mid 'Katy Byer Pregancy Annoucnement' when my phone buzzed, and Harry's name flashed across the screen. I opened the message, turning my brightness down, in case he decided to be Harry.

   *Did she get me any presents?*
   *Sorry babe, only I get presents from Charli*
   *Tell her I don't like her anymore*

"What are you giggling about?" Charli asked me, trying to get a glance at my phone.
"Harry says he doesn't like you anymore because you didn't bring him any presents from Europe."
"Is that so? Well, tell him to go fuck himself."

    *She said to go fuck yourself*

   *But that's your job ;)*

I had to stifle a snicker before I replied.

*Damn right it is. Now leave me alone, I'll see you tomorrow.*

I plugged my phone into the charger and set it on my bedside table, turning off the light, and giving Charli a kiss on the cheek before rolling over, and falling to sleep.