Page 103 of Dirty Chorus

Ineed some air. Gramps refused to go to the doctor this afternoon. He hasn’t listened to a damn word I’ve said. After getting him to shower, and making him go to bed, I grab my hoodie from the closet and throw it over my head before making my way out the front door.

I jog down the steep steps and pace myself down the dark alleyway to the sidewalk. A little grey Civic sits idle, the engine humming, light smoke fumes out of the exhaust, and the headlights are blinding only inches away from the bumper of my truck. I dip my head through the passenger door and see a hand beating against the steering wheel.

I tap a knuckle on the window, and she jolts up with a sudden gasp. She looks mortified, gripping the steering wheel hard. I wait as she presses buttons on the door panel. The car locks, then unlocks. She jerks her hands to her hair, grasping a chunk, bouncing in her seat, and the windows roll down.

I lean into the car, resting my arms across the open window. “Hey, Trouble.”

“Umm... Hi... sorry. It was stupid to drive down here.”

“It’s eleven thirty.” I point at the blue clock on her dashboard.

“I umm...” She unbuckles, and opens the driver’s side door. She swings open the back passenger door, leaning into the car and pulling out folded clothes. She rounds the trunk of her car with her fists digging into the fabric. “Here, I was going to drop them off by your front door.”

“At basically midnight?” I raise an eyebrow, and she holds it out at a distance. “Are you okay?”

“I have a lot of your shirts and boxers, and I figured you’d want your Jesus crushing Satan shirt back because it’s your favorite one. I understand we can’t really be together ... so I thought...”

I take the poorly folded shirt and boxer briefs, putting them onto the roof of her car. “Is this about asking you to try staying at the dorm?” I ask. It’s in her eyes, scanning every inch of my face. “I didn’t mean to come off cold.”

“Right...” She rubs the back of her neck. “I’ll get going.” She points to her car with a thumb and rushes back to the driver’s door.

“Wait... what’s really going on? Why are you here?” I pursue her, and when she throws the door open, I get to her too late. She slammed it closed on me.

“Charlie...” I tap on the glass. She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it back and proceeds to press the window button, rolling it down. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.” The phone on the passenger seat buzzes, and the screen lights up. She leans over the center console, grabs it, takes a quick glance at it, and chucks it onto the floor mat. A sudden sob hitches in her voice as tears form in her eyes.

She bundles up her legs to her chest, raking a hand through her hair, her cheeks puffy and red. Her breath is heavy as her eyes glance out the driver’s window. “I’m stupid. Really, really stupid.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” I lean into the car, finding her keys and shutting off the car engine. The phone buzzes again on the floor, and she covers her face with two hands, pounding her head repeatedly. Her eyes simmer as she sucks it all in.

“Give me your phone.” I stuff her keys into my jean pockets and wiggle my fingers for her to hand them over.

“What?” she asks.

“I’ll take care of it. Give me your phone.”

Charlie snatches it off the floor mat and slaps it into my hand. I press the power-down button as the screen goes dark. “Now get out of the car.” She wraps her arms around her knees, still bunched up at her chest. “I have your keys and your phone. Now get out.”

She swallows and turns to me with watery silver eyes. I wait a few more seconds and she climbs out. I shut the car door and grab my loaner clothes from the roof of the car.

She stands on the asphalt like a deer in headlights. “Come on...” I dip my head to the record store, and she drops her head to her feet as she strolls over. She follows like a shadow as I dig for my keys and unlock the double doors to the store.

It’s dark except for the one emergency light by the register. I wander through the rows of music and vinyl until I reach an area where guitars and basses are hanging on the wall. There are a few leather couches laid out, and I plop down on one of them. Charlie fiddles with her fingernails. The moonlight streams in through the large glass windows, covering her in a blanket of grey light.

“Who was messaging you?” I ask her.

“I...I...” She brings the palm of a hand up to her eyes, with her lips trembling. She’s really sucking in the sob that’s caught in her throat as she stares out the window. “I have umm... something for you.” She reached into the seam of her skirt where she had wedged a folded-up paper between her skirt and skin. She holds it out, and I take the paper unfolding it.

When I open it I see the title Dirty Chorus. My heart stops. “You said… wait... Charlie...”

“I love you...”

I swallow hard. She’s sober and saying those words. It’s not some random drunk thought she’ll forget tomorrow when she wakes up.

“This is your song... Charlie. You.. can’t... fuck...”

“Noah...”

“Yeah?” I ask. Her eyes glimmer, her lips tremble. “Is that why you’re crying?”