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Stop and Stare ~ Part Five
Charlie
I used to hate tying my laces. It must have taken me at least two years to learn how to do it, and even by the time I could do it, the knots were always loose and messy. I’d get so... irritated. I missed that: a time when something as simple as that was my biggest worry. No real problems, no ridiculous mistakes that were made one foolish night. I missed getting so upset over being unable to tie that stupid knot.
I fiddled with the piece of paper in my hands and ran my finger along the top. As I pressed my index finger down harder, the blunt edge of the paper began stinging my skin--an oddly relaxing feeling. I’d been waiting for this one piece of paper since the beginning of summer, but I’d never imagined that I would feel so blank and emotionless about it. I guessed I had other things on my mind.
I shot my finger across the paper which immediately drew blood from the skin of my fingertip. It stung, but I didn’t mind. I almost liked it. Forget about it. Just forget about it. As quickly as the memory entered my mind, I got rid of it. I’d been practising that a lot over the past four weeks or so--since 'it' happened.
My attention was forced back onto the paper in my hand. It was a refutation letter of some sorts, but right now, it could have been a pile of crap for all I cared. It felt like a century ago now, but I’d applied to get into a collage to study music and not to my surprise, the place didn’t even want to know. That’s what I got for screwing up my GCSEs, I guess. I didn’t get in then. Too bad I couldn't give a damn.
“Bloody hell, Charlie.” Austin’s voice almost made me jump. “Are you trying a new style of finger painting or something?”
I glanced down at my finger to see it now covered in dark blood. There were a few splodges of it over the paper too. I looked back up at Austin who was flicking an orange lighter on and off. Despite that fact, his eyes were on me. He was leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. I forced out a laugh and dropped the paper onto my already messy bedroom floor.
“You fancy doing anything then? Or are you just gonna play with that all night?” I nodded at the lighter in his hand.
“Well, you know what I wanna do... Vert--”
“No.”
“Aw, come on, mate.” He rolled his eyes. “Even though I still reckon you should try it, it’s not like you're gonna have to get hamme--”
“No.
“Just hear me out.” He raised his hands. “We go to Vertigo, I don’t even mention getting hammered to you, we find some fit birds and have a good time.” He scanned me briefly. “You need it. What do you say?”
Practically every Saturday night, Austin suggested we’d go to that club. Sometimes he got his way, but I tried to avoid that because he’d always end up getting kicked out for brining booze into a youth nightclub, not that the staff there were particularly strict anyway. Besides, the last thing I wanted to do right now was hook up with some girl. There were other things shadowing my mind. I stared up at my ceiling for a moment as though that would be a good enough response to please Austin. I heard another flick from the lighter, followed by a sigh.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You ain’t still bothered about the thing that happened a few weeks ago are you?”
My eyes remained fixed to the grey ceiling. The swirls on the ceiling were beginning to make me feel a bit queasy now, but I continued staring at it anyway.
“Mate, no one’s even thought about suspecting us. No one saw us, there's no CCTV anywhere near the park, that Lee kid and his goons ain’t gonna say anything ‘cause you know how much he’s messed about with the cops. Jax ain’t gonna say anything either. The cops ain’t got our D.N.A or anything on record, so there's no chance of us getting caught. Besides, why should anyone suspect us? I've never gotten into too much trouble with the cops, and you definitely haven’t.” He lowered his voice. “Don't you get it? We’ve gotten away with it.”
“You’re a shit liar.”
The flicking sound stopped. For the first time in a good few minutes, I turned my eyes back to Austin who was still sitting on my bedroom floor. His lip was curled and his eyes were narrowed. I shrugged.
“How the hell is that lying, Charlie? You know the cops ain’t got a chance of finding us. No wonder Jax takes the mick out of you so much. You’re such a wimp, for fu--”
“You're only proving me more right. I ain’t on about that, Austin.” I sat up on my bed. “What I mean is that you’re obviously bothered by it all. You’re fiddling with things all of the time, which can get really annoying, by the way.” I nodded at the lighter. “You're smoking twice as much as you did a month ago, you always look half dead, so you obviously ain’t sleeping properly. Your hair doesn’t even look blonde anymore, mate, because you clearly ain’t washed it in ages. Plus, considering you’ve figured out all of the reasons why we can’t get caught, you must have been thinking about what happened four weeks ago a damn lot. Oh, and you just lost your rag with me.” I shrugged. “Just saying.”
“What are you? Some fricking psychiatrist?” Austin shouted, proving my point even further.
I remained silent and held my breath. Did he have to shout? The last thing I wanted right now was anyone barging into my room. I didn’t bother responding to Austin, this time. Instead, I lifted my index finger to my mouth, widened my eyes, then nodded at my door.
It was times like this when I was happy Will was away with school for a while because, believe it or not, it was a damn lot easier to keep things from someone when they were in another country. If my brother or my dad found out about all of this, I’d have messed everything up for not only me, but more importantly, Austin. The whole thing was my fault anyway. If I would have just shut my mouth when I saw Lee and his goons coming, if only I had stopped Austin from drinking so much... None of it would have happened. I screwed everything up. It was me.
I heard Austin curse to himself, and my attention was drawn back to him. I didn’t have the energy to argue with the kid. He hadn’t said a single word about what happened that night being my fault. He must have known it was my fault; he wasn’t stupid. He must have figured it out by now. Besides, he was more or less all I had right now. Jax was basically a sheep doing whatever Austin told him to do, so talking to him about any rubbish was like talking to a toaster.
Austin let out a long breath and stood up. “Look, mate, let’s go to Vertigo. You can’t let some stupid mistake that I made ruin your fun. Besides, think about it.” He shrugged. “You find a girl and it will take your mind off things. It ain’t like you struggle on that department, pretty boy.”
The guy had a point. Maybe going out and at least trying to have a good time would take my mind off it all. Austin put the lighter into the pocket of his hoodie as he made his way towards me. He sat on the end of my bed after picking up the letter from the floor. He scanned it with his dark eyes and avoided touching the blood stains my finger had left on it.
“It’s probably a shit collage anyway.” He tapped my leg. “Come on, I’ll get my old man to drive us to the club.”
I then did what I did best: I did exactly what Austin had told me to.
#
Gareth, Austin’s dad, hit the brakes once we reached a familiar street corner. Like usual, there wasn’t a blade of grass out of place in any of the gardens’ that filled the empty street. I began drumming my fingers against my leg as the small car came to a halt. Considering Will wasn’t home as well as me, I was on edge about my dad being in the house on his own. What if he got drunk and did something idiotic? Or had one of his flashbacks? Or realised that I hadn’t brought Will’s shirt back from Jax’s house yet? The guy wasn't back from France until two weeks or something though, so I guess I had until then, not that my dad would probably see it like that. The drumming on my knee turned into an ecstatic piano routine. What if he turned the place upside down? He better not have ended up wrecking the place because I couldn't be bothered to clean up after him again.
“Here we are, boys.” Gareth’s voice disturbed my train of thought. He smiled at me before turning to Austin. “I’m going down the pub with some mates to have a few pints now, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to pick you guys up.”
“It’s alright, we’ll walk,” he replied. “Besides, we’re big boys now. I’m sure we won’t get too scared.”
“Uh, I dunno, mate,” I said before Gareth could respond. Austin tilted his head and pulled a confused face. “It’s gonna be pretty cold, so, you know...”
I would have told him that I didn’t want to have to walk home with him as he spewed his guts out and yelled at the top of his voice at every person that passed, but I didn’t want to mention anything about him getting drunk, not in front of his old man. It turned out the answer I gave him instead only heightened the accusation Jax often gave me of me being a complete wimp.
“You’re kidding, right?” Austin started laughing.
“Son, if Charlie isn’t comfortable with you two walking home, then I don’t think you should walk.” Gareth’s voice was stern.
He ran his hand through his light hair as he kept his eyes on his son. Austin responded by pulling a face and rolling his eyes. I couldn't help but smile lightly. Austin constantly complained about his dad, despite the fact that he was just like him in both his personality and looks. The fact that they both always thought they knew best made it clear that they were related. When my father was fighting in Afghanistan, Gareth spent a lot of time in my house. I guess he felt the need to become some kind of father figure for me or something. I could remember one time he was over when Austin and I were about eight years old, and Austin wanted to make a ramp for his skateboard by using some of Gareth's wood he used for work. Gareth told him the wood wasn't strong enough, so he said no, but Austin argued that it was easily strong enough. He wouldn't give up, but Gareth wouldn't give in either. They were both one hundred percent certain that they were right, and the argument lasted the entire day.
“It’s alright,” I said, returning my mind back to the present. “I’ll just ask my dad to pick us up.” I despised the rubbish that came out of my mouth sometimes.
“Are you sure?” Gareth said, his voice suddenly turning soft again.
“Yeah, there we go,” Austin answered before I could. “Sorted.”
“Austin, I’m not talking to you.” He turned back to me. “You don’t think he’d mind?” There was a clear hint of disbelief in his voice, and I couldn’t blame him. My dad would have preferred to individually pluck every hair out of his head than pick me up from some nightclub for yobs as he called it.
Gareth continued. “I mean, I can lay off the alcohol for tonight if you boys need picking up. If Austin’s that determined about walking, then I can just pick you up, if you want, Charlie. I wouldn’t mind.”
He looked at me with his almost black coloured eyes as he turned his head to face me. I then glanced at Austin to see him rolling his equally dark eyes again. He scratched his head and smiled sarcastically at Gareth.
“Dad, he’s fine. Jamie can just pick us up, like Charlie said. Stop bugging him.”
“Austin, I swear you think I’m going to murder him.”
That single word made my guts turn. Both Austin and I shut up as I stared at him through the car’s overhead mirror. Leaving Gareth oblivious, Austin shook his head and pressed his finger against his dry lips. Gareth didn’t... He didn’t know, did he? Why would he have said something like that if he didn’t suspect anything?
“Hey, Charlie? You okay, son?” I snapped my head back to Gareth.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah... Uh, sorry.”
“We’re never gonna get into Vertigo at this rate,” Ausitn interrupted as he shot me a hard glance.
I thanked Gareth for the lift as I stepped into the unsuitably cold summer air. He responded with a grin before asking me again about my dad, but I simply nodded and tried to encourage him that my dad would be fine with it. The door on the other side of the car slammed, and soon enough, Austin was standing beside me. He messed up my hair before nodding his head around the corner. It wasn’t long until we were both strolling up the damp pavement.
Austin’s dad always spoke to me so... sweetly, which admittedly, I did find rather weird at times. He knew about the whole situation with me and my dad, I was sure of that--he never asked about my black eyes and sprained wrists, or about why I avoided mentioning him to, well, anything with a pulse. I still failed to understand why he had to treat me like some kind of helpless orphan. Then again, that wasn't entirely true. I watched as Gareth’s car disappeared into the distance. Sympathy was a ghastly waste of emotion, especially when wasted on me.
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