by Queau, Amy
“So, then…what’s your story Jesse?” Eve asked.
Oh.
My Charlie.
Probably sleeping. Her eyes shut tight, dreaming sweet dreams. Sweet, innocent dreams about a boy who will sweep her off her feet.
“I don’t have a story. If you’ll excuse me,” Jess said as he rose from his seat and walked to the front of the restaurant.
Julie and Jake stared at him in shock, mostly because he had used such proper manners when excusing himself from the table.
Jesse immediately lit a cigarette once he reached the front doors. He watched as couples walking arm in arm wandered in and out of the establishment. After sucking down the cigarette too fast, he instantly lit another. He paced back and forth wondering what he should do.
If I stay, I’m going to have sex with this girl. All I need to do is smile and wink and I’ve got her. So predictable. So bland. I could do this. I could just walk back in and do this. But, is this what I’m going to do forever? Kicking them out before the sun comes up. Hoping they don’t want to cuddle or hear promises about seeing them again soon.
Damn! Damn you, Charlie!
Just do this, Jesse. Go back in and fuck her.
He rolled his eyes toward no one in particular and took the last drag from his Marlboro. He flicked his cigarette butt towards a black BMW in the parking lot and walked back in.
Chapter Two
Jess started the day with a bike ride. No trails today, just a leisurely three-mile ride. He’d had an average evening, but Eve wasn’t what he had expected; she was much more vigorous in bed. She had wanted to stay the night, but Jess kicked her out and slept. Finding her number scribbled on a piece of paper when he woke, he rolled his eyes and threw it in the trash.
Arriving home, he hopped in the shower and washed the dirt, sweat, and Eve off of him. The smell of her perfume made him gag.
He walked into his room and was putting on a pair of sweats when she walked in.
“Hey Jess,” she said.
He turned quickly, pulling up his pants, his chest still bare and wet.
Bree.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his heart falling into his stomach.
“I’ve been thinking about you lately. Since that night with Jake…” She looked down, embarrassed. “And…I miss you.”
“Get the fuck out,” he said as his hands instantly balled into fists.
“No, Jess. Let me explain!”
“There’s no explaining. There’s nothing. Get out,” he said, putting his shirt on and brushing past her to get to the kitchen. She followed closely behind. He reached into the cupboards and popped his meds in his mouth, drinking straight from the tap to wash them down.
“If you’ll just listen to me…” she continued.
“Why? What could you possibly say to me that will make you fucking my best friend justifiable? No. Nothing. I’m not going to ask you again to leave.” His anger was starting to escalate.
“I wanted him to take me to you,” she cried. “And when we got here, I was so jealous that you were with someone else. The alcohol, the moment… I wanted to make you jealous, too.” Her eyes were filled with tears and her chin began to quiver.
Jesse took a step back and took a sharp inhale, his face scornful. “You’ve done this to me before, Bree. You keep coming back. And then you keep leaving. How long are we going to do this?”
“As long as it takes for me to understand,” she whispered.
“Understand what?”
“Understand that we’re meant for each other. No matter how awful we are together, we shouldn’t be apart,” she whispered and took a step closer. “It’s not good for either of us. I’m a mess, and…you’re…you’re someone who needs me.”
Oh god. Look at this girl. Why do I let her continue to do this to me? She’s my perfect, sexy, tiny dancer.
“Kiss me?” she asked, now inches away from his face.
Impulsively, he grabbed her arms tightly and stared at her eyes. There was nothing but longing and desire there. She stood with her arms squeezed to her sides, her cheeks still wet from tears. And with a quick jerk of his arms, she closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Get out,” he repeated in a whisper and roughly let go of her.
With her chin still quivering, she covered her mouth to restrain the rejection. He watched her duck her head down and walk out the front door. Tuning back to the sink, he rested his weight on the palms of his hands and stared at the faucet. With his temper raging, he clenched his jaw and slammed the cupboard doors before running upstairs to get ready for his shift.
For the rest of the afternoon, his mind soared. From Bree to Jake. From Jake to Charlie. From Charlie to Lily. He couldn’t stop them, they were flooding in like a hurricane and causing a manic flow. His paranoia exploded and couldn’t escape the pressure in his chest.
*
“I need a drink,” Jess said to Charlie after his shift.
“Then drink,” she said with a warm smile.
It has been a horse-shit day and the only thing that’s redeeming about it is here. And now.
“So…you’re quiet tonight. What’s up?” she asked, looking nervous.
See, she can see right through me. Those eyes. Always those eyes. I don’t know what to say. What, that I’m actually considering going back to Bree?
“It looks like the Montana stars came to visit tonight,” she beamed while glancing out of the oversized window.
Jesse gave her a half smile and she instantly slouched and avoided his eyes.
“It’s been a…bad day,” he said.
He walked to the bar, got a beer, and returned to the table. Charlie still looked nervous. Keeping her head down, her forehead was creased as she tugged at her lip. “I keep thinking about this weekend. I wouldn’t blame you if you were embarrassed to be seen with me, now that you’ve…seen me.” She looked apologetic; ashamed.
“Jesus.” Jesse ran his hands through his hair, exhausted.
No. Not now. Not this insecure shit again. It’s got nothing to do with you. Let it go! I told you. You were graceful, strong, beautiful. Didn’t I tell you that?
“It’s got nothing to do with you, Charlie. Nothing at all.”
“Okay.” She faked her confidence.
With the jumbled thoughts in his head, he tried to compose himself enough to tell Charlie about Bree. So many thoughts were competing against each other. His mind kept coming back to Charlie’s walk across the grass in slow motion, with the fire in the foreground and the moonlit lake behind her. He shook his head to stop the thoughts from overflowing.
“God! The world doesn’t revolve around you!” His mood shifted in an instant.
Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. She’s always so sensitive.
She looked around the room as her mouth slung open. After pressing her lips together, she finally blurted, “Well Jess, I have some news for you – it doesn’t revolve around you, either!” She stood, collected her things, and walked to the bar with an insincere smile on her face. Paying her tab, she waited impatiently for her change, strumming her fingertips on the counter. A shy smile played at the corner of her mouth as a patron across the bar winked at her.
Is she smiling at him? That bastard just made her blush.
She turned without looking at Jesse and walked out the door.
Did she just leave me?
Walking quickly out the door, he looked around the parking lot to see if she was walking toward her car. He spotted her curvaceous outline stepping quickly and ran to her.
“Charlie! Get your ass back here!” he screamed as she stepped into her car.
She met his eyes for a brief moment through the window and stepped on the gas.
*
Upon arriving home, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. Charlie, pick up your phone. Pick it up.
“What do you want, Jess? You better talk fast because I don’t have the time for this crap anymore.” She kept her tone even and quiet.
&
nbsp; “I’m…damn it. I’ve got a lot on my mind. It was a bad day. I wanted to tell you about it…”
“No. You had plenty of time to tell me about it. I’m not going to do this anymore. You can’t be so hot and cold with me! We’re friends. I thought we had gotten past all the preliminary bullshit. You don’t have to tell me everything, but you really gotta stop treating me like crap. Censor your words, and remember that I’m female. I’m sensitive already, but I also have some major emotional issues.” After pausing to take a breath, she continued. “Friends don’t do those things to each other. I don’t trust easily – I’ve told you some really personal things. Too personal. Maybe…” She stopped, sounding uneasy with her next words. “Maybe we should just take some time. You know, not with each other. I’m not…it’s just…I don’t know if I should get any closer to you. Not when you can hurt me like you do.”
Silence.
Stop threatening to leave me.
“Are you there?” she asked, quieter now.
“Yes, I’m still here.”
She sighed. “Well?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ll sit on the phone all night with you not saying a word, just listening to you breathe, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want? Tell me.” Jess closed his eyes and waited for her to speak.
She sighed again. “No. Just think about what I said, please. I can’t keep doing this. I’m exhausted. It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“I’m working on it,” he said.
The phone muffled for a moment and then he heard her sigh. “Do you want to talk about your day?”
“No. Just sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“No Jess. I’m sorry. Tell me.”
“Tomorrow. I promise.”
“Okay. Good night,” she whispered.
“Night.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as he hung up the phone.
I need her tonight. I need someone. Someone to help me sort out the good from the bad. I need her to help me figure out what I want to do with Bree. I just wish Charlie knew everything already – it would make this so much easier. I don’t want to have to tell her. I don’t really even want her to know it all, I just want her to understand. I need someone to understand.
She can’t run away from me. She just can’t. But she will. She will if she knows why I am the way I am. It’s useless. Pointless. You have to speak the words in order for her to get it, otherwise you’re just confusing the hell out of her.
First there’s my obvious issue with trusting people. I think she sees that, although she hasn’t been told all the reasons why. She only has bits and pieces. The stories themselves are hard to tell, and even harder to hear.
Then there’s your bipolar disorder. She probably just thinks you’re a sociopath, as most tend to think. Do you want her to think that? Well, she’s still here. She is still willing to be your friend. Is she just stupid? Maybe that’s the problem here. Maybe I think she’s smarter than she really is. Or maybe, maybe it’s just low self-esteem. I bet that’s it. That would make sense.
I need her, dammit.
I need her now.
Jesse found his keys and ran out his door without shoes on.
Pulling into her driveway, he was careful not to wake anyone with his headlights. The only light in the house was emanating from a small basement window.
Could that be her room?
Jesse crept into the front yard and around the side of the house where a large mulched patch of hostas were planted. He saw the window with the light on and slowly made his way toward it. He took a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, but as Charlie lived on one of the busiest streets in Burnsville, he’d have to be quick.
As he inched closer, he saw a bookshelf decorated with mostly framed photos. The floor was carpeted and the walls were painted a muted yellow. A painting of a woman sleeping hung on the wall in yellows and oranges. She had long, brown, wavy hair and was wearing a sheer nightgown, sleeping peacefully. Inching closer to the window, his socked feet squished in the muddy mulch beneath them. A king-sized bed frame came into view along with a hand-quilted blanket lying at the end of it with a bright yellow, round rug lying on the floor. As he approached the window straight on, he had full scope of the room.
There she is.
Charlie was drawing on a large sketchpad propped up onto a wooden easel. Next to it was a small table with pencils, erasers, paints, and other small objects used for sketching. Seated directly in front of the sketchpad on an oak stool, she straddled both sides with her heels propped up on the foot rest. She was wearing a stained white long-sleeved shirt, drawing carefully on the paper in front of her.
Charlie stood to stretch and turned toward her bed. Getting a clearer view of the drawing, Jess could see she was doing a nude female study. Completely realistic, incredibly sexy, and almost pornographic.
As Charlie grabbed a can of soda from across the room, she lifted her arm to sip from it, exposing her midsection and her white bikini underwear. Time slowed as Jesse took her in. Her white shirt, stained with charcoal, paint, and lead, was several sizes too large and hung down just barely enough to cover her backside. He watched, his mouth hung open, as she tore a red bandana from her head to rake her hands through her hair. She continued to behave as though no one could see her, no one was watching her. Standing back from her drawing, she tilted her head to one side, then the other, analyzing her work. Walking back toward the easel, she resumed her position with her pencil.
Jesse looked away quickly, remorseful that he had been lurking, admiring. A car passed on the road and honked its horn. Feeling as though he had insulted her by spying when she was unaware, he jumped back toward the mulch and back to his car again.
Damn it. Put some clothes on, Charlie! I could have been anyone. Close your damn blinds, at least!
Now what? He emptied the air from his lungs and brought his hands to his head, pulling his hair in anger with himself. What are you gonna do, call her and tell her you were looking into her bedroom and saw her in her sexy little panties? Oh sweet Jesus. Those legs are so long. He shook the thought from his head. Enough, Jess! Call her, maybe? Should I call her and ask her if I can come over, wait a few minutes and knock on her front door? No, I’ll wake her parents.
Great. Now what? What a stupid idea this was.
You can’t go to her now, so you’ll just have to stay here or go home. Whatcha gonna do? It’s after midnight now. Damn.
Stay here. I’ll just stay here. The only thing separating us is a pane of glass. That’s as close as I’m going to get tonight.
Lying there in the car with his legs propped up and over the passenger side seat, he thought about Charlie’s drawing. The curve of her hips, the way the female had her head tilted back in ecstasy, her collarbone…
Morning came too soon. As soon as he shut his eyes, he felt as though the gentle tapping on his windshield made them snap open again. He had been asleep for four hours.
“Can I help you?” a man said, the sun rising on the horizon behind him.
Jess squinted one eye shut and shielded his eyes from the light.
“Oh! No, sir. I…ah. What time is it?” Jess glanced at his clock on the dash.
Clearing his throat, the man replied. “It’s five thirty. And you must be Jesse.”
Her dad knows about me? Oh shit, I owe him money.
“Oh, yes. That’s me. I came by last night to see Charlie… I guess I fell asleep.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little strange? Sleeping in our driveway?” Charlie’s father spoke, raising an eyebrow.
Jesse looked around and remembered what he had seen the night before while peering through Charlie’s window. Dipping his head down, he tugged at his lip. “Yes. A little.”
“Well, you’ll need to move your vehicle now, you’re parked behind me. Unless you plan to stay, in which case you can park on the street during the day.” He sighed and started walking back toward the gara
ge, shaking his head.
“No, I’ll be leaving now.” Jess shouted out his window. “Thank you.” After starting his car, he cursed the whole ride home.
He walked through the door, went straight to his room, and began reading to distract himself from the past twelve hours’ worth of embarrassment. He grabbed random books from the bookshelf in the living room and pieces of text jumped out from the pages as his mind absorbed them.
“…the soul maintains its deathly sleep and the heart bleeds from a thousand wounds.”
–Hugo Wolf
“There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness.”
–Kay Redfield Jamison
As he didn’t have a shift that day, he entertained a disquieted feeling brewing in his mind.
His episodes had become fewer in recent years, but he had learned to recognize them when they started rearing their faces. He jumped at the opportunity to think clearly, to brainstorm and have the enthusiasm for life and ideas again. He encouraged it, craved it, and wouldn’t let anything stop the rush it gave him. He had to take advantage of the flow when it came. The clarity and focus he was beginning to experience had been sorely missed. This was exactly what he needed to come up with a solution to Bree, if he had been thinking straight enough to exercise his focus on her. Instead, he opted to focus on his illness.
Book after book, articles, newspapers, case studies, and the internet became his devoted pals. He began by reading all of the books that doctors, friends, and family had advised him to read at an earlier time, but he’d never taken them seriously enough to care.
The surge of knowledge was almost overwhelming at first. It was as though these authors had chosen him, specifically, to write books about. They told of his fast ideas and feelings, captivating people with words and gestures, and finding intrigue in uninteresting people. But somewhere in there was the light switch that would go off, without warning. Ideas and feelings would become jumbled as friends became confused and worried. He would stop making sense, to himself and to others, and suddenly become irritable and unmanageable. Eventually he would be lost within his own mind because the information was processed too quickly and there were suddenly too many possibilities. “Madness carves its own reality.”