Page 50 of Dirty Chorus

“Anytime.”

I wave as she takes her purchase and strolls out the door.

When I turned back around, Gramps had hopped off the stool and had magically found the yellow duster, heading straight toward the bookshelves with determination. “You should not be doing anything strenuous.” I pursue him through the store, but he keeps a firm grip on the yellow handle and stands on his tippy toes to reach the top.

“I can handle myself!” he shouts at me.

Chapter 22

Charlie

It’s the tenth time. Powerfully deep rumbles rev down the street past my house. This time I peek out the bay window, spotting a white Camaro speeding past the house with tires squealing as it cuts through the corner. It’s the same one, with two strips and tinted windows.

“Who keeps acting like they're in the movie The Fast and the Furious?” Payton sits in the nook of the bay window, shoveling a large mouthful of macaroni and cheese in her mouth.

Brody.

“I dunno. Some jackass with no life.” I shrug and stare down at my journal. I’ve been writing all afternoon.

At this point, I’m convinced it’s Brody. I haven’t called him back, and there are twenty missed calls from last night. It gave me the worst insomnia, and I had to shut off my phone entirely to get at least three hours of sleep.

“I don’t get people. Why do you want a piece of metal to sound like your ass after the Taco Bell hits?” she asks, and I burst into laughter at the remark, and hug myself. She stabs her macaroni. “I’m serious. That’s all I can think about when I hear a loud car.” She points the fork at me before taking another mouthful.

“Do you really have to leave tonight?” I ask, crunching my nose up because her mother is demanding her to return to that hideous trailer. I spent the last few days with Payton over, and we turned like rotisserie chickens on our lounge floats. If she leaves, I’ll be lonely, bottled up in my room again.

“Yeah. Give it forty-eight hours and I’ll be back over.” The fork scrapes around the glass as she plays with the remains. “I was going to ask...” she pauses, glancing out the window.

“What’s up?”

“Is Ryder doing okay?”

I shrug and flash her an unsure smile. “He’s working double shifts a lot. Mom’s out of work. He acts as if I don’t know the divorce is killing her. The whole Brittni thing has messed him up a bit. But he’ll be fine... he always figures it out.”

“Oh, I just haven’t seen him much in the past few weeks.”

“Well, you’re over to hang out with me. Not him. He’ll be fine. He’s a big boy.”

She picks at her food for a few more moments before letting go of the fork, letting it slip into the bowl. “I’m gonna pack up and head out.”

“Okay... I’ll miss you.” I smile as she strolls into the kitchen, placing her bowl in the sink. My phone vibrates in the back of my jean pocket and sends a prickling sensation running down the back of my neck. I don’t want to reach for it and get another notification from Brody.

A dull ache spreads through my arms to my fingertips as I reach into my back pocket and pull it out. It’s Noah’s name in my inbox, and every muscle tensed up relaxes, and my limbs feel less heavy.

Noah: Hey trouble xoxo

Charlie: Hi! How have you been this week?

Noah: Good. I’ve been thinking about you

Charlie: Really? Little old me?

Noah: Yeah, I wanna see if you wanted to go to a movie tonight? The band plans to get together later. Love to have you there.

Charlie: Yeah! What time?

Noah: Six at the Cinemark

Charlie: See you then.