We're Not Strangers Anymore

Chapter Fourteen - Panic

Charlie bolted upright, shaking and sobbing. His pillows, his pyjamas and even his mattress were drenched in a thick coat of sweat.
'Son?' a voice called up.
Charlie panicked, burying his head under the covers.
Jamie. The basement. The dead boy.
'Y-yeah?'
'Are you coming down for breakfast, sweetheart? I've done you eggs on toast!'
'Down in a minute, Mum.'
Phew. Panic averted.
He got up three minutes later and switched off the radio, throwing on his uniform as quick as humanly possible.
'Won't bother combing my hair today,' he muttered, grimacing at himself in the mirror.
There was one clear priority on his mind today, one vitally important goal in sight, and it stood clearer than anything; finding Jamie.
Telling his friend about last night's events felt almost compulsory. He simply needed to do it. If things turned ugly then Jamie could come and live with him, he'd have to, Charlie thought.
Yeah, that'd work. Eating dinner together everyday, eventually forming a band, listening to rock music. Would be awesome.
He wolfed down his breakfast faster than he had ever done before - it was of utmost importance that he saw and spoke with his friend, ideally before their first lesson of the day.
Charlie jumped onto his Mum's old bike, which was only bought for practising on in the garden, and cycled as fast as his little legs would allow him.

The school has an eerie feel about it at this time of the morning. The bell rang at half past eight everyday without fail, yet here Charlie was at seven forty-five, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. He walked the length of the whole building, checking each and every corridor as he did so. But there was no use - Jamie wasn't here. Charlie figured that he'd turn up at some point, and besides, Jamie was never early to school.
Not to worry. Everything's fine.
From seemingly nowhere, a clear voice announced itself from behind: 'Charlie? Is that you?'
He turned around to face the person behind the voice. It was Emily.
'Oh, hey. You okay?'
'Yeah, I'm all good,' she said, looking down at the floor for the duration of her reply, 'and you?'
'Not bad I guess. Aren't you meant to be on holiday with your folks?'
Now she stared at the wall.
'Yeah, I am. We had to cancel.'
'What? Why?'
There was a pause in between sentences. She let out a large, disappointed sigh.
'My uncle died in the early hours of the morning. My poor old Mum's in pieces, bless her heart.'
'Oh my God, that's awful.. I'm really sorry, Emily.'
'No no, don't be, it's not your fault. Nothing that can be done, I suppose. I was only with him Monday night, and now he's gone. Gone forever, just like that.
Charlie gave her a sympathetic smile.
'And I know that that's the cycle of life,' she continued, 'y'know, life's cruel and then you die, but that still doesn't change how I feel about it all.'
'Come here,' Charlie said almost silently, opening his arms and wrapping them gently around her.
'I know exactly how you feel. When my Dad died, I just.. I felt hopeless, you know?'
Emily nodded into his shoulder, covering it in tears.
'But things get better, I promise. Much better, in fact. I can however promise you one thing, mind.'
'What's that?'
'You're stuck with me and my crap sense of humour for the foreseeable. Lucky you, aye?'
Emily let out a small laugh and wiped both of her eyes, sniffling into his shoulder blade some more. Smiling, she pulled away.
'Thank you, Charlie. I really, really appreciate you y'know. You're a really good guy. And-'
Before she could even finish her sentence, Charlie placed his hands gently on her waist and leaned forward, planting a firm yet soft kiss onto her lips. They shared this moment for fifteen, maybe twenty seconds, not that Charlie was counting.
Deep footsteps came storming down the empty corridor now, heading towards the broken down lift. Emily and Charlie were stood right outside of said lift, still hugging, still smiling. The footsteps finally came to an end, and for the two young lovebirds it simply couldn't have arrived at a worse time.
'Broomer? Webb? What are you two doing down here, aye? The bell will be going off in approximately thirty seconds! Scram, go on, get out of it!'
Webb.. So that's her last name.
His voice was shrill and stern. The voice of a maniac, Charlie thought. It was none other than Mr Colshore, Charlie's worst nightmare.
'We're going now, sir. Come on, I'll walk you to class.'
'You most certainly will not!' the plump man yelled, his voice drowned out by the sound of the fire exit door slamming. 'And do not let me catch you smooching down these hallways again! Do I make myself clear?!'
But it was no use - the two teens were gone.

Lunchtime had rolled around fairly quickly, and the two of them were now sat in the half-empty canteen, eating and chatting away; something that had slowly become quite a touching ritual.
'Charlie? Is everything alright? You've not took one single bite of that burger.'
'Me? Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all.'
Emily frowned at him strenuously.
'Come on. Tell me what's up. I opened up to you, and now it's your turn. There's no use running away from your problems in this life, you know..'
She leaned a little closer, poking his arm playfully with a fork.
'..because they always seem to come running back, no matter how fast you run.'
Charlie thought about this for a moment, and then proceeded.
'Alright, look.. I did want to tell someone, but ideally I wanted that to be Jamie.'
'Jamie being the one from the other day?'
'Yeah, that's right. He's not here, he should be eating in this very canteen and he's not. He's not here, and he should be.'
'Why's it bothering you so much, though? I know he's your good mate and all, but maybe he's just unwell, having a duvet day or something?'
Charlie looked away.
'No, it's not that,' he said, shaking his head. 'It wouldn't be that, I know it.. it's just, well, something happened after school the other day.'
Emily looked intrigued.
'Go on.'
'Well, you're gonna think I'm mad, and I certainly wouldn't blame you for running a mile, but.. well, what I'm trying to say is that-'
'Charlie, is everything okay?'
'No,' he answered, running his greasy hands through his hair, 'everything's not okay. Jamie came over the other day, and.. fuck, man.'
'Charlie, listen to me..'
She took his hand, firmly gripping it.
'You can tell me what's wrong, you can talk to me. I know exactly what it's like to feel utterly hopeless, to feel like you have no-one, but that's just not the case at all. I don't care that you lied to me when you first ever met me, I-'
'What?'
'Oh Charlie, be real for a second. Come on. I mean, you told me that you fell over, remember? And then I questioned you further on the whole thing, and only then you decided on a fight with your brother being more plausible. I know exactly what happened, I just didn't want to embarrass you. He walked straight past me in the corridor after he did it. It was Jack Hodges, wasn't it?'
Charlie looked blankly at the table, desperately trying to think up a way out of the situation. He gave up a few moments later, nodding and sighing.
'Yeah, it was. And I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want you to think any less of me.'
'Oh, Charlie.. I wouldn't ever think less of you, don't be stupid. Did you know that he has a sister?'
'What?' Charlie asked, nearly choking on his own saliva, 'are you joking?'
'I wish I was,' Emily muttered back, looking nervous amongst other emotions. 'His sister does the same thing to my sister. He is literally a walking, talking nightmare. A menace, at least that's what my Dad calls him.'
Charlie began to chuckle.
'Yeah, your Dad's not wrong.'
'I know. But what I'm trying to say, Charlie, and I know we've gone a little off-topic here, but I think you should talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you, what happened with your friend Jamie, and I'm sure we can sort this out.'
She took hold of his hand again, this time not letting go.
'I promise you, whatever it is, it will sort itself out. But just talk to me.'
Charlie sighed, nodding again.
Alright. Here goes nothing.