Page 24 of Voices

“Mmghhmm.”

“I’ll take that as an ok,” I chuckle as I get off the bed and strip down to my boxer briefs, tossing my hat on my dresser. I’m about to get back into bed when I think better of it and grab a pair of basketball shorts to put on. Before I get in, I cover Charlie with my hockey throw blanket my sister got me for Christmas a few years ago. I climb in under the sheets and scoot as close as I can to him.

I can’t believe he’s in my bed.

I wish it were under better circumstances but at least this way I know he’s safe. Laying on my side, I tuck a few dark strands of hair under his hood. I wonder what had him drinking so much tonight. Or does he always drink this much?

I want to know everything about you, beautiful boy.

Remembering that I have his phone in my jeans, I turn over and reach for it on the floor. I lie on my back and bring up his text thread with Lily.

Charlie: Hey, it’s Shane. Charlie is with me at my place. He was passed out and I couldn’t find you or Noah. He’s fine, just needs to sleep it off.

I exit out of the text thread and go to his contacts. I add my name and number, then text myself so I have his number too. He might not appreciate me doing that but I can’t go on hoping that I’ll run into him again.

I plug his phone in on my charger and roll back over to face him. He now has his head buried under the pillow and the blanket is tightly wrapped around his shoulders. I place my hand on his back, feeling his steady breathing. I match it with my own and slowly drift off.

Groaning wakes me followed by a sudden jolt. Opening my eyes, I see Charlie looking around frantically, his breathing erratic.

“Charlie, you’re o-” But before I can finish, he slaps a hand over his mouth and looks at me with wide eyes. Then he’s off the bed and running to my bathroom. A second later I hear him empty the contents of his stomach.

Shit.

I get out of bed and rush to the bathroom. He’s curled over the toilet, whimpering. Opening the storage closet, I grab a washcloth and get it wet with cold water. Ringing it out, I walk over to him and squat down. Lowering the back of his hoodie, I place the washcloth over the back of his neck. He sucks in a breath then leans forward with his forehead resting on his crossed arms over the bowl.

I rub his back, soothing him. “Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head but stops with a wince. His back tenses, and I know he’s about to be sick again. I drop to my ass and comfort him the best I can. I don’t know how long we’re in here for, but by the time he’s finished, my ass has gone numb and he’s covered in sweat.

He stands up on unsteady legs and flushes the toilet. His hair is plastered to his sweaty face as he slowly shuffles to the sink.

“Do you want to take a shower? It’ll help you feel better.”

He won’t look at me as he looks down at the sink.

“Charlie?” I walk up behind him and look over his head at him through the mirror. He’s shaking and holding onto the edge of the counter so hard that his knuckles are blanched.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he stutters as his shoulders reach his ears. “I-I’ll go h-home now.” He starts to turn for the door, but I stop him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to go. You can brush your teeth with my spare toothbrush, borrow some clothes, and I can make you something to eat. I know the perfect remedy for hangovers.” I smile at him even though he’s not looking at me.

After a few beats, he slowly looks up at me with bloodshot eyes. He looks miserable. Poor guy probably feels like he’s gone through the wringer.

“Ok.” It comes so softly that if I weren’t paying attention, I would’ve missed it.

“Did you want to shower or just brush your teeth?” I ask, a little too excited that he’s staying.

He shrugs and then points to the shower.

“You go ahead and get in while I grab you some clothes.” I grin as I reach into the vanity drawer and pull out an unopened toothbrush, setting it next to the toothpaste on the counter. “Take as long as you need.”

He nods, looking down at his socked feet. “Can I have a hoodie?” he asks without looking up.

“Of course.”

I head into my room, closing the door behind me. In my closet, I look for the smallest hoodie I own. I grab my black Gannon U Hockey hoodie with a gold Knight holding a shield on it. I received it freshman year and haven’t been able to fit into it since. Back in my room, I dig through my dresser for the tightest joggers with a drawstring. He won’t be able to fit in my boxer briefs, so he’ll have to put his back on or go commando.

I head to the bathroom door and hear the shower going. I try to open the door, but the doorknob doesn’t turn. Smiling to myself, I set the pile of clothes by the door.

---