Page 22 of Dirty Roulette
“Idolike you.”
“Then actually let go of that guy and be with me. I’m not pretending. I like you... a lot.”
“I know.”
I’m tired of their emotionally damaging conversation and head to classic rock to pick out a Rolling Stones album. Charlie has a bad habit of leading on guys and dropping them when she gets a spark of emotional attachment. I honestly feel terribly for Noah. She’ll drag his heart through the mud. The one guy she let sink in was Brody. But any girl would die to be with a guy in consideration of the NFL draft, plus he’s a senior.
I tip-toe back over with the album in hand, staring at the sticker price tag.
“Here, take the tickets. The band has a chance of getting scouted. You should come,” Noah says.
“I found something,” I cut into their conversation and wave the album around. My awkward smile and weird giggle slip out.
“Yeah...” Noah nodded.
“I was meaning to ask... where did you guys meet?” I ask.
Noah’s face went flat, and he raised a brow. “I caught her red-handed drawing Jesus holding a penis in the bathroom...at church...”
“You crashed the girl’s bathroom, and I’m the sinner.” Charlie puckers her lips. “Please, you need confession more than me.” She teases, folds up the tickets, and places them in a pocket of her purse.
“You still go to church?” I ask.
“Sunday nights. You’ve missed out.”
“Huh... I didn’t know.”
“Mom’s been dragging me all summer. She’s honestly trying to get over Dad.”
“I get that.”
Noah rubs the tip of his nose with a hand. “I help the band at church services. Gramps over there makes me.” He dips his head at the old man, shuffling behind a glass display case.
I notice some gnarly bruises on the old man’s arms. His skin is overstretched like an abused rubber band and he wheezes. My heart sinks further. I don’t think it is even in my chest anymore.
“Your grandad works?” I ask.
“Yeah, I help him run the store,” Noah says. I tilt my head as the sweet man is checking out a customer. His hands shake, handling the money given to him.
“We live in the apartment upstairs, so I’m always here,” Noah says.
“Where are your parents?”
Noah shrugs, and I think I hit a sensitive topic with the sadness laced in his eyes. “Fuck if I know. He’s all I got.”
“Oh...” I say.
“We all got Daddy issues.” He lifts his eyebrows and his lips are flat. “Well, I’m going to help my grandpa. I’ll ring you up.”
“Yeah... yeah, thanks.” I say and head to the register, unfolding some crumpled bills to pay.
Charlie flips her hair across a shoulder, and we walk down the rows of records to the front door covered in layers of tape and flyers. I glance back one more time, and Noah flashes a peace sign. He strolls to his Gramps and helps him sit in a comfy chair.
We leave and head down the sidewalk to her mom’s beaten-up Honda. She’s supposed to release the title to Charlie, but can’t find the time of day to ever take her to the DMV.
“He’s a nice guy...” I open the passenger door and slide into the stench of cigarettes and musk of old man cologne.
“Well, he’s like every other dude out there. He wants to shove his dick in me.”
