Charlie's Journal
Chapter Thirteen

AN: I am so sorry for such a long delay in updating everyone!
My slight perfectionst tendencies took over while writing this chapter
it had multiple re-writes because I was never quite happy with it. To be honest
I am still a little unsure, but decided I needed to be brave and post or else the story would never be finished!
I hope you enjoy this chapter and I thank you very much for being so paitent.
Princess Kay

"Will someone please just tell me what happened, I can't remember a thing" I shouted frantically. Again no one answered me.

I jumped to my feet and rushed to the bathroom as the sick feeling crept up my throat choking me. Caitlyn was trying to soothe Kennedy and mom was in no position to chase after me, so Nate took the job. He gathered up my hair in his right hand and rubbed circles across my back with his left. More tears streamed down my cheeks as I continued to sob, my head throbbing painfully. Nate helped me to my feet and turned me to face him. I rubbed my palms across my watery brown eyes, in a vain attempt to clear my blurred vision.

"Charlie, did you drink any alcohol last night?" he questioned gently, his expression sympathetic and concerned. I heard my mother gasp and glanced up to see her standing in the doorway. I gave a weak nod.

"Only one glass of champagne at midnight…it was nothing…just to celebrate, that's it I swear" I began to ramble trying to justify my actions. Nate was lost in thought for a moment then pulled his phone from his pocket. It must have been on silent, I hadn't heard it ring.

"Hey mom…Mitchie will be glad to hear it…keep him there alright, I'm taking Charlie to the hospital and we don't need him losing it…she's fine…yeah, later" he kept the call quick but it was enough for mom and me to become even more worried.

"Shane's at mom's, go get changed" Nate spoke to both of us pushing me in the direction of my bedroom.

"Nathaniel Gray, you will tell me right now why you are taking my daughter to the hospital!" Mom cried becoming emotional and stressed out. Nate sighed giving me one last shove towards my room and hugging mom. After Caitlyn the man was well experienced in hormonal pregnant women.

"Its fine Mitchie, I just want to make sure she wasn't given anything else other than that one glass of champagne last night" he tried to calm her. I frowned but followed his order to get changed, washing my face and combing my hair so I looked half presentable. Returning to the kitchen Nate handed me a glass of water before guiding me to the living room and selecting a program from the TiVo.

"Like father, like daughter. Shane Gray has always been known as the Gray family's wild child and it seems daughter Charlie is following in his footsteps." A bubbly reporter beamed from the television screen.

"The sixteen year old was seen partying it up with nineteen year old Matt Elliot at an under 21 club last night, confirming rumours the pair are dating" the reporter seemed thrilled to be announcing the juicy piece of gossip, which made me feel nauseous again. I swallowed hard in an attempt to relieve the feeling. Accompanying that statement was a series of photos. The first was of Matt and I when we arrived at the party, all smile his hand resting against my lower back guiding me through the cameras. The second one wasn't a nice photo. One of my hands was holding a champagne glass; the other was weaved into Matt's hair as our lips were locked in an intense looking kiss. His hands were pulling me up and closer to him, there was a blur of people in the background and colourful lights gave our skin an eerie glow. The third and final shot was just as bad Matt was standing behind me his arms wound firmly around my waist causing the hem line of my dress to raise a little higher than it should be. We were posed with smiles for a different camera, our eyes looked glassy and it was evident that Matt's arms were the only thing holding me up right. My make up was smudged and my hair a tangled mess, I looked awful. Memories flooded my mind all at once as if seeing those images had unblocked my clouded brain.

"Oh my gosh, what did I do?" I gasped this time knowing the answer, burying my head in my hands and curling myself into a ball on the couch.

Nate didn't end up taking me to the hospital. I wouldn't leave my bedroom and no one seemed prepared to push the issue. I lay on my bed hidden under my sheets re-dialling Dylan's number again and again. Every time I was sent to voice mail and every time more tears fell down my cheeks. Matt had rung several times but I had ignored him. Alexis had also tried a few times but I only wanted to talk to Dylan. I needed to find some way to make him see how much I loved him and that I hadn't meant to do what I did. In a final desperate attempt I dialled his home number. His mother picked it up after just three rings.

"Hello?" I sucked in a sharp breath; I hadn't actually expected someone to answer.

"Hello, Mrs Watson…I was wondering if I could talk to Dylan?" I inquired shifting into a sitting position and crossing my fingers for good luck.

"Oh Charlie…well…" I sighed at her broken response before cutting her off, saving her from trying to come up with an excuse.

"Don't worry about it Mrs Watson…I wouldn't want to talk to me either" I whispered then ended the call. I rose to my feet and stared angrily at the poster of Matt and his band hanging on my wall. I ran towards it and gave it a forceful tug removing it cleanly from the wall. Feeling somewhat satisfied with the action I continued with my rage and tore the poster to shreds. Several other posters received the same fate. Ones of our band, because I couldn't bear to look at Dylan's smiling face right next to mine. A bunch of Connect Three ones and some of mom's old ones joined the pile to as I became angry at them for being famous. Blaming them for the camera's the followed my life reporting it to the world. Following the posters were a collection of photo frames I had neatly lined up on a book shelf. The first was a recent addition from the video shoot in New York. I tossed it hard against my closed bedroom door, enjoying the sound of the shattering glass. As the second photo frame left my hand and collided with the door footsteps hurried down the hall and my bedroom door was flung open. I had already snatched up a third frame as Nate bravely entered his hands raised, his brown eyes asking me to put the frame down. Mom had her hand to her mouth, Caitlyn's eyes were wide. I returned the frame to its place on the shelf.

"Redecorating?" Nate joked lowering to the floor to inspect the pile of shredded posters. I sat down calmly on the floor beside him. Brushing my hair away from my face and letting out one last angry breath.

"I made a mistake" I confessed in a low mutter looking at my bare feet. The scarlet nail polish from last night was a little chipped; I scratched my thumb nail over it, peeling off flakes of red.

"Everyone makes mistakes, you'll get through it…your whole family is here to help you" Nate responded supportively. I continued to pick at the nail polish on my toes, shaking my head at him.

"My mistake was coming here in the first place…" I raised my head and frowned at him.

"…I should have stayed with Connie and Steve" my voice rose as I stood up, looking down on my uncle. I glanced at my mother.

"None of this would have happened" I stared at her accusingly clearly blaming her. the front door banged closed at the point. Caitlyn's head turn in the direction of the sound but mom and I remained in our staring match.

"It's not your mom's fault Charlie; it just comes with the job" Nate tried to reason with me. I turned on him scoffing at his statement.

"Well people didn't follow me around with cameras publishing my private life all over the internet before I moved to LA" I snapped at him. Nate took an involuntary step back but quickly straightened his shoulders not willing to back down to his niece.

Then there was a holler from my doorway which caught our attention. It was dad.

"Apologise to your uncle and mother" he commanded his tone telling me not to mess with him. Anger was still bubbling inside of me and I stubbornly kept my mouth clamped shut. It was a battle of wills between two highly stubborn and ill tempered Gray's.

"Fine, sit" he ordered pointing to the bed and nodding for the others to leave. I shut my eyes tightly and listened for the sound of the door closing.

The mattress sunk slightly with someone's weight and a hand rested on my back. I twisted my head then fell into my fathers arms.

"Do you hate me?" I mumbled into his shirt my anger dying away as quickly as it had come, like a balloon deflating.

"It's not you I was mad at" he replied softly, affectionately combing his fingers through my dark hair. I raised my head to look at him questioningly.

"I was mad at myself for letting you go to that party and at Matt for taking advantage of you" he explained sounding extremely calm considering how he had stormed out of the house a few hours earlier. I shook my head I didn't blame Matt yeah sure he is older and should have known better but I can't blame him. Remembering last night I know I should have said no when it was suggest we all drink and I should have stopped Matt when he made to kiss me but I didn't. Not because I have feelings for him because I don't, it was a mix of alcohol and being star struck. I don't know how long we sat there, me in dad's arms neither of us talking.

"Can I go stay with Connie and Steve for a while?" I whimpered into his chest, finally breaking the silence.

"No" he answered a frown formed on my face.

"Running away doesn't help" he concluded, I raised my head and eye brows at his comment, clearly showing my feelings on that statement. He was being hypocritical. Wasn't he the one who had just stormed out of the house!

"Do as I say, not as I do" he smirked at me, adding a wink to make me giggle. As we both smiled the days events seemed rather distant.

"That's my girl…it makes my day to see you smile" dad beamed kissing my forehead. I widened my smile at his sweetness, then for good measure gave him a light shove.

"You're getting mushy in your old age, buddy" I teased crawling off the bed. Dad was a little taken back by my comment, taking a minute to process it.

"Oh you just let me show you how old I am" he retorted quickly grabbing me and tossing me onto the bed, tickling me until I was squealing with laughter, barely able to breath.

"Now go get the vacuum and take this out to the recycling bin" he instructed gesturing to the mess in my room, then playfully swatting the back of my thigh as I rolled over extremely slowing procrastinating.

As dad and I entered the kitchen mom's look was questioning, filled with concern and worries.

"We are all going to be fine" dad said firmly, giving her a hug and a kiss.

I continued to sulk for the next few days but there were no more temper tantrums or major melt downs. Mom had replaced all the posters and photos I had destroyed, but hadn't placed them in my room. She insisted that I would eventually regret wreaking everything. By the end of the week the entertainment news reporters had found someone new to torture. I was on the couch in the living room flicking through television channels. I was on holidays for another few days but I didn't want to be out having fun with my school friends.

"Alright, I am getting sick of this" dad sighed blocking my view of the television and holding my guitar out for me to take.

"What did the guitar do to you?" I asked sarcastically craning my neck to look around him. Dad snatched the remote from my hands and fumbled to click the television off.

"We're Grays music is how we deal with life, so write, play...just quit sulking" he pushed the guitar closer to me until I accepted it. He gave a triumphant smile as if he had accomplished something amazing. As usual he was right though. It took just a few minutes for my fingers to form a melody that I didn't even know I had been itching to play. Words and thoughts tumbled from my lips slowly forming lyrics.

Two days after writing the song, Caitlyn arranged for me to get into a recording studio with a friend of hers. I arrived early with my guitar and a bag full of energy drinks and chicken flavoured potato chips, leaving just in time to make our weekly family dinner at my grandparent's house. I left the studio carrying only my guitar and a rough copy of the song. It was a cold evening I had a grey woollen jacket pulled tightly over a purple shirt and my blue jeans. A purple lace knitted beanie was keeping my hair out of my face. I ducked my head against the wind and smiled politely at the three photographers hanging around waiting for me. I hurried to my car, starting it up and stuffing the cd into the stereo. The soft guitar melody filled the air as I tugged my belt into place and pulled out of the car park. Then my voice broke through loud and strong.

I feel so unsure. A drum beat started up as my words ended.
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
As the music dies (as the music dies)
Something in your eyes
Calls to mind the silver screen
And all it's sad goodbyes

I turned into the street as the chorus started, a smile forming on my lips in excitement, I loved being able to hear all my work coming together.

I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend (should have known better, yeah)
And waste a chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

Listening to my voice raising to reach higher notes, I acknowledged how far I had come in my singing over the past twelve months.

Time can never mend
The careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind (to the heart and mind)
Ignorance is kind (ignorance is kind)
There's no comfort in the truth
Pain is all you'll find

The words I sang couldn't be truer or more heart felt. Time wasn't going to change what I had done. I wanted to hide and ignore it, but I had to face the truth no matter how painful. Dad had taught me that. I knew dad would find that line humorous, I had never been good at dancing, guilty or not. However the metaphor worked and I was proud of it.
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend (should have known better, yeah)
And waste a chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm

Tonight, the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe, it's better this way (this way)
We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say (to say)
We could have been so good together (so good)
We could have lived this dance forever
But now, who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay

My lyrics hinted to my annoyance with the media and pathetically begged Dylan to stay with me.

I'm never gonna dance again (dance again)
Guilty feet have got no rhythm (baby got no rhythm)
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool (I know you're not a fool)
I should have known better than to cheat a friend (cheat a friend)
And waste a chance that I've been given (chance that I've been given)
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you (the way I danced with you)

I'm never gonna dance again (dance again)
Guilty feet have got no rhythm (baby got no rhythm)
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool (I know you're not a fool)
I should have known better than to cheat a friend (should have known better) (cheat a friend)
And waste a chance that I've been given (chance that I've been given)
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you (the way I danced with you)

The chorus explained that I felt guilty and sorry, expressing that I had been foolish and naïve, but most importantly pointing out that I regretted what I had clearly lost.

Now that you're gone
Now that you're gone
I know that I'm never gonna dance again
Now that you're gone
Was what I did so wrong?
So wrong, that you had to leave me alone?

Without your love

Shoulda' known better

The song finished by stating the obvious, I should have known better.

When I arrived at my grandparents my dad impatiently asked if he could hear the song.

"So are we going to get the privilege of hearing this song you have been working on all day?" He begged as we took our seats at the dinner table. I hadn't let anyone hear it. Mom and dad and heard snippets as I had written it but that was it. I shrugged and slid the cd across the table towards him. Chewing on my bottom lip and twisting my fingers tightly together as he inserted it into the cd player. I held my breath as the song finished watching wide eyed for their reactions. For my blasé attitude about handing over the cd like all artists criticism made me anxious, and my family were my biggest critics.

"Oh honey" my grandmother cooed brushing her fingers across my cheek sympathetically, showing me just how clear my metaphor had been.

"That was a really beautiful song Charlie" Mom beamed proudly at me. I turned to Nate and Caitlyn after receiving nods and smiles from everyone else. Caitlyn winked at me and Nate had his thinking face on.

"You know, if we talk to the right people we could have that on the radio by the end of next week" he mused, I rolled my eyes. Uncle Nate was always going to be the business man of the group.

"It's not finished yet" I told him shaking my head at his crazy idea. I didn't want this song on the radio. I wrote it for me, no one else.

I should have known not to go up against my uncle and his thinking face. I mean really everyone thinks dad and I are the stubborn Grays! Nate gets that look on his face and there is no changing his mind. It took him just over two weeks to get the song on the radio and while he was at it he had me record two covers, one the 'this is me/ I gotta find you' duet with dad. The second was one of mom's originals 'who will I be'. Those three songs plus one I had recorded with Dylan that never made the album and my other original were compiled together in a rather rushed EP.

I had not attempted to call Dylan since I had spoken to his mom. I kept my phone close by though, frequently checking to see if he had tried to contact me. In the end Noah was the first one of the boys to make contact. It was a few days after the single was released, my friends had clearly picked up on hints. I had been sitting on the couch watching an afternoon movie.

"Enough is enough, you have been miserable…Dylan has been miserable, talk to each other" he groaned in greeting, I winced at his name.

"Noah, what the hell are you on about?" it took me a minute to register that it was not my voice that had spoken my thoughts. And a further minute for me to register that it was Dylan's voice. I couldn't talk my breath caught in my throat choking up all the apologies I wanted to so desperately blurt out. The phone line was dead for a moment before Dylan spoke again.

"Noah, tell your girlfriend to stay out of my freaking life! I know she's the one who put you up to this!" Dylan ranted his frustration blatantly obvious.

"Wait, girlfriend? Since when did you have a girlfriend?" I questioned my tone teasing and directed at Noah. There was no response, but I could tell Noah had not left the call, he was listening in.

"They're both eavesdropping right now aren't they?" I asked Dylan. I sighed wanting to cry again when I heard the sound of Dylan hanging up the phone. But I could have done a back flip when he rang me back just seconds later.

"I hate to admit it but Alexis had the right idea" he grumbled as I answered, Alexis and Noah? I filed the information away for when she inevitably called later to get the gossip. My stomach filled with fluttering butterflies and I felt the need to gulp. He wanted to talk. How was I ever going to explain, I had had a week to analysis every second of New Years and could think of no way to make it sound like I hadn't cheated.

"I don't have feelings for Matt" I stated blankly, twisting and tugging at a thread on the plum coloured woollen blanket wrapped around my legs.

"I don't know if I can just forgive you Charlie…I want to but…" Dylan's tone was low, he sounded confused and tired.

"I can understand that" I sighed as the thread between my fingertips finally snapped.

"I like those songs you brought out" he complimented conveniently changing the topic. Even over the phone this boy could make me blush.

"Thanks…it was really nice of you to allow that duet we recorded go into it" I spoke softly; the conversation was still very awkward. There was a pause before Dylan sighed and spoke up.

"Think you could visit this weekend?"

Just three more words from Dylan 'I miss you' and we ended the call. I didn't give my parents much choice in the matter, an hour later I had a flight booked and my bag packed.

"I'll be back in a few days… I miss my friends" I reasoned with dad. I was antsy and restless the whole trip. I had packed as little as possible so I could carry my bag as hand luggage. The airport was pretty deserted by the time we landed and entered the terminal. As the other passengers moved towards the luggage claim area I spotted a lone teenage boy stepping out of a shadowed corridor towards the gate I had just entered from. He was wearing a pair of camouflage print cargo pants and a black band t-shirt; he also had dark blonde hair that could really use a cut. He paused, his eyes scanning over the small remainder of lingering passengers before landing on me. Butterflies flittered anxiously in my stomach. The boy reached into his pocket tossed a set of car keys into the air then caught them, all with his left hand.

"Coming?" he called a smirk pulling at him lips. My heart gave an irregular beat before my brain kicked in and I was actually able to move towards him. I shifted my bag so the strap stayed more comfortably on my shoulder as we silently fell into step with each other and approached the exit. As we arrived at his car Dylan slid his right hand into my left one, twisting me to face him with a gentle tug. On instinct we both leaned in, our lips just inches from touching.

"I'm so sorry" I whispered the words so softly I was worried he wouldn't hear them.

"I've missed you" Dylan replied closing the gap between us.