Loverboy (10 page)

I look up for a moment and have a drink; finally, I shake my head. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’?” He asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I just never got around to telling anyone, I guess,” I say, using my fork to push a couple pieces of potato around on my plate.

“And why not?” He asks. “What about your brothers or your dad?”

“What?” I ask. “Are you kidding me? They would start the biggest head hunt in the history of the world. And, if I did, my dad would try to force me to come home. It would just be a mess.”

“Charlie, you can’t keep it hidden from them.”
 

“And why not?”

“Well, this isn’t exactly something you keep hidden from family,” he says, leaning a ways across the table. “And, besides, what happens when you finally do hit the news. How would they take that?”

I shrug. “I guess I never really looked at it that way.”

“You should think about telling them,” he tells me. “They deserve to know. And, whether or not you and your mom are talking, she still loves you. You’re her daughter. Her only daughter at that.”

I nod. “I guess you are right. Maybe I should plan a trip home soon. It’s not really something you tell them over the phone.”

“That’s understandable.”

I wiggle a bite of potato in sour cream before having a bite. I take a moment to stare into space. He does have quite the point. I wouldn’t exactly want my family to hear my story on the nightly news. At the same time, I wouldn’t want to call home with such sad news. My mom and I may have a rocky relationship, but it would crush her; my dad and brothers too. They’d be grateful that I’m alive, but the battle scars aren’t easy to look at. I wouldn’t want to cause a knock-down, drag-out fight either since I am happy here. I have school, work, friends… I have a life. Despite what’s happened, I still love it here. I look back at Nick, who has continued to stare at me. I smile.

“So, you still up for a movie tonight?” He asks.

“Netflix is calling my name,” I tell him.             

He smiles. “Well, how about I clean up and you get ready for a movie.”

I grin. “I can handle that. I’m just going to go change first.”

             
He nods as he begins clearing the table, careful not to spill or drop anything.
At least I’m teaching him something in the kitchen
, I think, before heading to my bedroom.

- 6 -

Nick

As I finish clearing the table and making sure each dish and glass has been carefully tucked into the dishwasher, Charlie returns wearing a pair of pale pink sleep pants and tank top. Her perfectly straight hair dangles in her face as she gives her body a stretch.

“Is there anything in mind that you want to watch?” She asks, reaching for the TV remote.

I close the dishwasher and shake my head. “Nothing in particular. Why don’t you pick?”

“Really now?” She asks, turning toward me. “Even some chick flick?”

I fight the urge to cringe. “Of your choice if that’s what you want.” I tell her.

“Fine, then.” She smiles as she begins to power on the TV and her Netflix program. I watch carefully as she scrolls to the romance category. I should have known. My eyes lock carefully on the screen as she scrolls the few choices. Eventually, she lands on
The Notebook
.

“I should have known,” I say.

She laughs. “You did tell me that I could pick.”

I nod. “And, I’m not going back on my word.”

“Just be glad I’m not making you watch
Love Story
or
Gone with the Wind
.”

I clap my hands together. “
The Notebook
it is.”

She laughs as she settles into one end of the couch. “You complain now, but just remember, it could always be worse.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I say, having a seat at the other end of the couch.

“How do you know you won’t like it?” She asks.

“I’m a man,” I tell her. “I just know these things.”

She laughs as she presses the ‘Play’ button.

I begin to watch her carefully from the corner of my eye. Not even a half hour into the movie, and I can see the gleam of tears in her eyes. Suddenly, her sniffles only confirm my thoughts on her tears.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods, her eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s just so amazing how much they love one another.”

I stare at the television screen confused, as the scene now rolling features the two main characters arguing. I nod, pretending to know what she’s talking about. After another fifteen minutes of being confused about the movie, I finally give in and begin just watching Charlie from the corners of my eyes as she dabs away at her tears. I will never understand how women can cry at movies. Especially ones where it doesn’t quite look like the main characters love one another as much as she thinks. But, what do I know? I fight the urge to talk to her, but she looks so happy and content, even with the tears rolling down her cheeks. I decide to leave her alone and allow her
to enjoy the movie. It’s strange, but despite the tears, she truly looks happy. By the time it comes for the end credits to roll, Charlie is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. I glance up at the screen and note that it is implied the older couple had passed away. What a crappy ending.

She wipes at her face and turns to me. “What did you think?”

“What did I think of what?” I ask.             

“The movie,” she says. “What else would I be talking about?”

Her eyes widen as she wipes at her face, and I suddenly find myself a little embarrassed. I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure. I guess I got a little distracted,
.
” I admit.

“You were distracted through an entire movie?” She asks, confused.

“I,” I pause. “I think I was.”

“Did you watch any of it?” She asks. “Any little part?”

I begin to feel my cheeks grow warm, and I’m suddenly thankful that the lights are dim. “I saw a little.”

“The middle?” She asks. “The end?”

I shake my head, now completely ashamed. While Charlie had been content watching the near two hour movie, I was completely content watching her and her every move. Studying how she was sitting, how she would wipe at her face, how her eyes would light up during certain scenes, and how they would fill with tears for others.

She laughs. “What did you watch this entire time? It was almost two hours!”

I take a deep breath. “I was watching,” I pause. I run a hand through my hair and make a face. Here is definitely one situation I have never been in. I haven’t watched anyone before like that. “I was actually watching you.”

“Me?” She asks. “Why on earth were you watching me?”
             

I shrug. “I guess I couldn’t help myself.”

Even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “So, do you want to watch another movie?” She asks.

“Another one?” I ask. “Aren’t you tired?”

She shakes her head. “I should be, but no.”

“I can go for another one, but you should at least get comfy,” I tell her. “That way if you fall asleep, you fall asleep.”

She nods, leaning closer into the couch as she flips through the Netflix main menu. This time, I can see she’s headed for the comedy section. Now, that’s doable. But, when she pauses over
Super Troopers
, I’m sure she’s just making fun of me. I don’t say a word as she pushes play.

I try to focus hard on the movie, but, for some reason, I find myself paying more attention to her as she laughs at the funnier parts. I laugh quietly with her, my eyes usually locked on her. Every so often she would bring a hand up, pushing a glob of stray hairs from her face or tuck her hair behind her eyes. I smile to myself, realizing; to see her smile made me feel good for some reason. After a while, I see her settle into the corner of the couch, curling up a bit, her eyes still on the TV.
She laughs softly as we make the switch from Netflix to regular cable. This time
Reno 911
, which I am sure, is another direct pun for me.

After a few episodes, I see her stretch slightly, pressing herself into the couch. Her bright eyes are sleepy, but her slight smile never seems to fade. She wraps her arms tightly around her body as I slowly drape the fleece blanket around her body.

“What are you doing?” She asks, her voice much softer than usual just from the lack of sleep.

I smile. “It’s cold, and you’re tired.” I tuck it gently around her. “Get comfy; if you fall asleep, I’m right here.”

She nods in agreement, letting her eyes close almost immediately. It doesn’t take long after to see she’d been so relaxed she quickly fell asleep, resting her head into the couch. I turn to face her, smiling as she rests as comfortably as the night before. It’s not long after I feel myself slowly fade to sleep right next to her.             

* * * * * *

The sun must have just been breaching the horizon when I wake up to the sound of metal against metal and the splintering sound of wood cracking. I jump up, as does Charlie, her eyes wide with terror. Her breaths became rapid and she tosses herself from the couch, backing away from the door. I quickly draw my fire arm and unlock the door, flinging it open. There behind the door, crouching at the lock is a man, about Charlie’s age, fumbling to pick the lock. My weapon immediately goes to his face.

“Jason, what the hell!?” Charlie squeals, taking a few steps closer.

He laughs nervously and gives us a wave. “Hi.”

I turn to her. “You actually know this guy?” I ask, placing my firearm back in its holster.

She nods hesitantly. “He’s my ex,” she pauses. “And a moron.”

“Since when am I your ex?” He asks.

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her body. “Since a year ago. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he tells her, standing up, folding the tiny Swiss Army knife. “It’s all over the news,” he says, shoving it into his pocket. “
Loverboy… they said he had you.”

She looks at me, then back to Jason, who was running a hand through his already messy and dirty hair. “What?”

“Loverboy,” he starts, “you know, that guy that’s kidnapping these girls, he rapes them and then tortures them.”

She immediately cuts him off. “I know who he is and what he’s doing,” she pauses. “How did…”

He stops her. “It’s on the news, they have your pictures,” he adds. “They keep talking about the night you disappeared, when you left the party,” he states. “Then they started talking about how you somehow got away.”

She cups her face in her hands, leaning back on the arm of the couch. “I’m on the news,” she looks up at me, stunned. “Nick, they reassured me this wouldn’t be in the media this soon. It hasn’t even been three weeks, Nick. I’m still trying to heal.”

She looks scared to death, and with Jason standing there I have to fight the urge to hug her. “I don’t know how. Someone could have found out; leaked it to the press.”

“So, just who exactly are you, Nick?” Jason asks, taking a few steps in. Now my eyes fall on him, and for some reason, I want nothing more than to punch him. He’s clean shaven, if he has to shave at all, with messy brown hair and dark eyes that are bloodshot. He looks as though he’s spent the night out partying too hard.

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes again and points to the front door. “Get out; just get out.”

“Baby, you can’t possibly still have hard feelings?” Jason smiles wide as he takes a few more steps closer.

Charlie moves backward again as she glances at me. “Jason, my ex; the one who took my savings. I found him in bed with my so called best friend, Jennifer,” she explains.

My eyes grow bigger. “
That
ex.” Now things make complete sense.

“Did I mention it was in
my
apartment?” She pauses. “In
my
bed!”

“Oh, my God,” he says, stepping closer to her to point out a large red mark on her arm. One of the many marks that are still very much on the mend. “Did he do that to you?”

She steps back and quickly covers her arms as her head drops. Being so soon after the incident, Charlie is really opening up a lot by baring just the tank top. Both of her wrists are still red and healing. Deep gashes line her arms, a few on her face, some on her chest, shoulders, and upper back. Here she’s making an attempt to brave her scars, and he has to call her out on them.

My mouth drops, and I turn to Jason, who shoves his hands into the front pocket of his tattered, gray hooded sweatshirt. “I think it’s best you go.”

He shakes his head. “And just who the hell are you?”

I pull out my badge. “Nick Andrews, NYPD,” I say calmly. “You can go quietly, or I can place you under arrest for breaking and entering.” I smile.

He gives me a blank stare. His dark eyes seeming completely empty and lost as he continues to stand in one spot. One more reason to think he has spent the night partying when he should have been studying. He makes a face at me, looking completely confused. Now I can see why she’s just annoyed with him. I haven’t known him all of five minutes, and I want nothing more than to punch him and cuff him.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do.” Before I can continue, he has hit the ground running. I shut and bolt the door behind him.

She sighs, pushing her bed head hair from her eyes. “I need to keep you here more often.” She looks up at me with wide eyes, and I can tell she’s had the same thought as me. “How did he get in the secure door?”

“It’s okay, Charlie,” I reassure her. “He could have slipped in behind a delivery guy; anything.”

She looks down at her feet as she takes a few deep breaths. Finally, she grabs the remote for the TV and flips it to a local news station. Like her ex promised, her photo is plastered on the screen. She looks completely horrified as she slinks onto her couch, nearly missing the seat at first. The remote drops from her hands as she rests her face in them. It’s when I hear a little sob that I take a seat next to her and wrap an arm around her. She looks up at me, confused and hurt. Now the world would know what happened to her. They would know how she was beaten, raped, and tortured. Her friends would know why she now had scars and why she had disappeared. She glances down at her red marks and lets her fingers pass over a random one.

“Don’t ever be ashamed of those,” I tell her softly.

“Why?” She asks.

“Because you are so much stronger than the person who tried to hurt you,” I reply. She looks at me, smiles, and lets her head lean onto my shoulder as we both stare at the television in disbelief.