Page 18 of Voices

“I’m fine.” He uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood away.

He looks up at me with sad eyes but quickly averts his gaze. He must notice all the eyes that are on us because he lowers his head, letting his hair block half his face.

“I should go. Th-thank you,” he says while looking at the ground.

“Let me buy you your drink. A warm cup of tea helps me relax after I’ve had a rough day. Or coffee, if that’s what you drink. There are only a few people in line now, so it’ll only take a second.”

I tilt my head, trying to catch his eyes. He seems to be thinking about it but he shakes his head.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Ok. What about tea? They have like twenty different flavors.”

He slowly lifts his head, giving me the slightest glimpse of those golden orbs. “I don’t really like tea either.” He says softly with his shoulders up to his ears.

Smirking, I shake my head. “What college student doesn’t drink coffee or tea? Caffeine is life. I wouldn’t survive my morning classes without it.”

Still holding his ribs, he walks to the cooler that has energy drinks in it. He slides the door open and reaches in to grab one. Turning around, he holds up a can of Red Bull.

He turns back and walks over to the cashier.

“Those aren’t good for you, you know,” I say as I walk up next to him and hand Katie a five-dollar bill. She smiles at me and takes the bill, running her fingers over mine.

“Hi, Shane,” she says, bending over so her cleavage is practically spilling from her top. “Am I going to see you at the party Friday? I’d love to show you my new tattoo. It’s right here.” She flips her platinum blonde ponytail over her shoulder and points to the spot between her boobs. We’ve fucked a few times. She’s a fun time, but she seems to have forgotten about her boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there with the guys. How’s Brad doing?”

At the mention of her boyfriend, she stops trying to flirt with me and shoves my change at me.

Smiling, I put it in the tip jar. “See you around, Katie.”

I turn to where Charlie was standing, but he’s not there.

Where the hell did he go?

I scan the tables while walking to the door but don’t see him. As I step outside, I don’t see him anywhere.

Why did he leave? I wanted to make sure his ribs were ok. To make surehewas ok.

Walking past the edge of the coffee shop, I scrunch my nose at the unmistakable stench of weed. Looking down the side of the building, I don’t see anyone, only a green dumpster. Then I hear the crack of a can being opened.

As a puff of smoke is let out, I turn to find Charlie crouched against the wall, a few feet from the garbage. He takes a big gulp of his energy drink as he looks at me.

“Thanks.” He holds up the can. “I’m fine, though. You didn’t have to follow me.” He takes another drag of his joint and holds it in his lungs until I’m sure he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen. He finally slowly releases it, rubbing at his ribs.

“Can I see?” I tilt my head towards him.

He doesn’t say anything as he continues smoking, looking up at me. When the joint is done, he rubs the end on the brick building then turns and flicks it into the dumpster. Little by little he stands up until he’s slightly hunched forward.

“Why do you care if I’m hurt?”

“I’ve had cracked ribs before. They’re a bitch to deal with and I know a few tricks to help the healing process.” Though I doubt they’re broken by the way he held that smoke in his lungs for so long. He’d be in a lot of pain right now. But if he’s willing to show me, I’ll be able to touch him without him flinching this time.

“Will you leave me alone if I let you look at them?” he asks with an attitude I wasn’t expecting.

“Of course.”

He holds the can in his right hand and pulls his shirt up with his left. It’s like he’s doing it in slow motion. Every second that passes, I’m given an inch of his milky white skin. He has a black trail of fine hairs below his belly button that disappears under his black boxers. He’s thin, with a flat stomach and visible ribs sticking out.

---