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4. Our Little Secret

When we got to Bill's I did our secret drum-roll knock and Bill opened the door slightly.

"Patrick known as Patty known as Nothing?" he asked while peering out at us. Good to know who I am.

"Bob", I replied dryly. I noticed Charlie looking at me with his usual thoughtful expression. He seemed to observe people a lot, and sometimes I had the uncanny feeling that he understood me better than I did, and that probably applied to anyone who spent much time around him.

After the hugging was finished, Sam introduced Charlie. Bob immediately hugged him, much to his surprise. I laughed at seeing the expression on his face and patted him on the back before heading in. Sam said that Bob was "baked like a fucking cake" in explanation. We headed down to the basement and I lit a cigarette for Sam and me. The doorbell rang, and I looked expectantly as Bob went to let them in. Just as I hoped, it was Brad. I resisted the urge to walk over to him; Brad didn't like to draw attention to us. Instead I just headed upstairs toward the usual bedroom, flicking a glance towards Brad so he knew where I was going.

Of course, Brad would wait an unnecessary amount of time before following, so I went ahead and made myself comfortable. I loosened my bow tie and leaned back on the bed, perusing the books on the shelf next to the nightstand. After what seemed like an eternity staring blankly at some book on Asian cooking, I finally heard footsteps approaching. Brad opened the door, checked behind him, and then slipped in while the door clicking shut behind him.

Trying to play it cool, I grinned slyly at him. "To what do I owe this honor?" I asked in a sultry tone. Brad made a face at me and then looked behind him at the door.

"Are you sure we're safe here", he asked with a nervous lilt to his voice. My grin faded a little. Always the same questions, the same fear. It wore me down and made it hard to remember that he loved me, too. At least, he had said so once.

"Yes, yes, no one is going to see us," I said while moving to sit up at the edge of the bed with my feet on the ground. Brad sighed and then walked over, standing between my legs.

"I'm sorry, it's just...well, you know my Dad. You know, maybe we shouldn't do this anymore", he said, while looking down at my feet. I hoped the sound of my heart cracking a little further wasn't audible. I raised my hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. He looked into my eyes, and I knew that we weren't over yet. I moved my hand behind his neck, pulling him down to me. I kissed him chastely, and paused to look into his eyes. I watched as desire won over his fear, and he leaned into me, and deepened our kiss. As I ran my hand down from his neck to his stomach, I heard the door swing open.

Startled, Brad pulled away from me and I looked past him to see a stunned Charlie standing in the doorway.

"Oh," he said, and with that, he promptly turned around and shut the door behind him.

"Who was that?" Brad hissed, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"He's a friend of mine, relax. Let me go talk to him," I said in what I hoped sounded like a confident tone of voice. Brad did not look reassured as I followed Charlie into the hallway.

Charlie was standing in the middle of the hallway, looking back at me with a dumbfounded expression as I approached. I put both my hands on both of his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. For some reason, I wasn't scared. Normally I'd be afraid that I was about to lose a friend, but with Charlie, I just had a feeling that it would be okay.

"Brad doesn't want people to know."

"Why?"

"Because he's scared."

"Why?"

That was a strange question to ask. Wasn't it obvious?

"Because he…wait…are you stoned?"

"They said I was downstairs. Sam is making me a milkshake."

At this I couldn't keep my laughter at bay. Here he had just found me making-out with another guy, and not just any guy, but our star quarterback, and he was talking to me about milkshakes. Charlie. Stoned. Well this was something to remember.

"Listen, Charlie. Brad doesn't want people to know. I need you to promise that you won't tell anyone. This will be our little secret. Okay?"

"Our little secret", he confirmed with a nod.

"Okay", I said, and with that I dropped my hands from his shoulder and walked back toward the bedroom. I looked back over my shoulder to see Charlie still in the same position and said, "We'll talk about this later, Charlie".

As I reached the door, Charlie called after me in his best father impersonation, "I look forward to that talk".

I looked back at his mock stern expression and exhaled something that should have been a laugh before disappearing into the room where Brad sat with his hands clasped to his knees, his arms rigid.

I sat down beside him and rubbed his arm. He didn't loosen it.

"I told you to relax. That was Charlie, and he's a really good friend of mine. We can trust him," I told him. Brad refused to look at me, so I pulled his chin to face me. His eyes burned into mine, and I knew that he would spend the rest of the night in a fearful paranoia. There would be no more kisses tonight. Or anything else, for that matter. Knowing that there was nothing else I could say to him, and that anymore physical contact would just make him freeze up more, I dropped my hand from his chin with a sigh.

Standing up with all of the energy of an eighty year old man, I left Brad to his thoughts. If I knew him at all, it would take him another hour to have the confidence to come back downstairs, chat enough to sound normal and then take his leave. He would not so much as look at me for the rest of the night. I could curse his tyrannical, violent father into the grave at this very moment. He's the one who's made Brad this way.

I headed downstairs to the basement, and ran into Sam, who was standing with her arms crossed, her drink forgotten on the pool table beside her, staring with a troubled expression toward where Charlie sat at the fireplace with Mary Elizabeth and Alice. At first I entertained the thought that she might be jealous at the attention he was giving the girls, but on further inspection knew that it was something more serious. I tapped her shoulder and quirked my eyebrow to ask what was up.

Sam lifted her head and I lowered my ear.

"Charlie just told me that his best friend shot himself last year. I don't think he has any other friends," she whispered furtively.

My mind ground to a stop for a moment, and when I could regain function of my senses, I looked over Sam's shoulder at Charlie. He was nestled between the girls, nursing his milkshake. And in that moment I felt like I could finally understand a small portion of his character. Patting Sam's shoulder, I walked toward him to the center of the room, and held up my glass. The group went quiet and looked toward me expectantly.

"A toast, to Charlie," I proclaimed, holding my glass higher. Charlie looked up at me, perplexed.

"I didn't know I did anything," he questioned. All eyes were on him, and I could see him growing uncomfortable. I walked over and knelt before him, keeping eye contact.

"You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand. You're a wallflower, Charlie," I said quietly, but loud enough for everyone in the silent room to hear.

I saw emotion well in his eyes, and he said in a broken, tired voice, "I didn't think anyone ever noticed me".

I stood back up, holding back the wave of sorrow that hit me as I looked in to his eyes that seemed like they held all of the sorrows of the world and responded, "Well we didn't know there was anyone else cool to meet. Now we know we were wrong". A loving smile crept on to my face as I held his gaze.

I paused, getting a grip of myself, and then repeated, "To Charlie". Everyone responded in like, and took a drink. And as a tear fell out of both of his eyes, Charlie smiled the wrinkle-crinkling kind of smile, and it was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.