Lightweight Gone Wrong II - Charlie

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A/N: Answers: Hole in My Soul off of Nine Lives by Aerosmith, and the first was Cherry Pie by Warrant––"Swing it on the front porch, swing it on the lawn…..swing it in the living room, swing it in the kitchen, most folks don't 'cause they're too busy bitchin'..." <--song lyrics.  Anyway, here's the next update!

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I arrived at Nicky's house not even five minutes later.  Turns out, I wasn't done crying, because when I parked in his driveway, I could hardly see.  That didn't stop me though.  I went right up to the door and knocked, trying to at least semi-compose myself before he answered.

        "Charlie, honey," Nicky's dad said, stepping aside to let me in.  "What's wrong, doll?"

        "Just everything," I mutter, searching for Nicky.

        "Nicky's upstairs," he said.  "But I think he's leaving soon to go out with some friends..."

        "Yeah," I say, not really listening and already halfway up the stairs.

       Not thinking, I reached for the door handle and immediately reeled back, clutching my hand.  What the hell?  The stupid electrocuter electrocuted me!

        The door flies open.  "What the fuck?–"  Nicky's bewildered face notices who touched the handle and he freezes.  With my heart still pounding in terror, I regained sanity and took the two short steps to get to my best friend, who I really, really needed at the moment.  Without hesitation, I hung myself on him and burst into tears again.

        He doesn't even try to get any answers out of me.  He doesn't ask questions, though he is taken aback at first, and I feel him–at first slowly–hug me back.  He guides me into his room and shuts the door and keeps hugging me until I stop crying, or at least slow to sniffles.

        We sit down next to each other on his bed where he continues to shush me.  "Whasit hurso bad?" I ask, barely understandable.

        "What?" he whispers.

        "Why's it hurt so bad?"

        "What– What's wrong?" he asks tentatively, not wanting me to start crying again.  I don't show emotion ever, so this is weird for him.

        "He– I– We..."  But I can't go on.  Nicky urges me to speak, reaching over to his nightstand to take a swig from a bottle of beer.  I eye the bottle wearily.  "He... He... We're... He's done."  I choked on that last part, breaking down again.

        "Who's done?  What's the matter, Charlie?"

        "He's done," I said again, this time calmly and clearly, tears still falling, feeling numb again.

     "Oh..."  Nicky's reaction surprised me, to say the least.  I wasn't expecting him to sound so disappointed.  I hid my face in his shoulder again, no longer crying, but needing to be close to someone.

        After awhile, I sat up and looked at him.  He looked back at me with a mixture of concern and pity.  I didn't notice he had started smoking a joint.  Then he glances at the clock and sighs.  "Charlie, I..."

         When I realized he wasn't going to say anything else, I said, "I know, you've got plans."

        "Yeah," he says resolutely.

        "And you've gotta leave?"

        "Kinda..."

        "Let's go, then," I said before I realized I actually was going to say it.

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