Soundtrack Song - Train, Hey Soul Sister
I'm such an ass.
I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I had been imagining what sex was going to be like with Charlotte practically since we met. Once I made the commitment to wait for her to warm up to me, I knew that when it finally happened, I was going to make sure it was amazing. I was going to make sure it was incomparable and everything she ever could have wanted it to be. Because once she finally came around, I was going to take advantage of every moment possible.
And it was amazing. Mon Dieu, incroyable! Charlotte was so different from any one else I'd been with, especially the girls that I picked up at the clubs. Those girls were looking for nothing more than a roll between sheets with a relatively famous guy. They never put in a lot of effort, or if they did, they tried to be the best I ever had. Either way, one of us walked away feeling very unsatisfied.
But last night, I know we both enjoyed ourselves. How can I be so sure of that? Because you can't fake that. I've seen When Harry Met Sally, so I know how convincing girls can be. Screams and moans and facial expressions can be mocked and feigned. But the way her body moved beneath mine, twitching and convulsing... I know that was authentic.
Regardless of how mind-shattering and exhilarating the sex was, I didn't mean for us to do it in my living room, lest of all did I mean to practically push her through the floor. Once she straddled me, my mind shut off and I worked on instinct alone. If I could re-do last night, I would have at least moved her to the couch or preferably relocated to my bedroom so she would have been more comfortable. I mean, we did ultimately end up in my bed anyway, but the living room floor? It was supposed to be special. The floor is not special. That reeks of lust and impatience. I wanted it to be more than that.
I should have maintained my restraint and held back to make sure she was constantly taken care of, enjoying herself, and loving every moment. I had wanted to do all those things for her, but I couldn't. I was too busy being selfish and making sure I was enjoying myself. It's okay, though: I don't need to worry about what I wish we or she or I would have done instead last night. We will have many occasions ahead of us for repeat performances, to do everything we didn't already do.
After we wrestled around on the floor for a while, I brought Charlotte up to my bedroom. We were already exhausted but somehow managed to find the energy to go at it again. I thought I was empty, but apparently I wasn't. I'm glad that I hadn't slept with anyone else in so long, because I'm convinced that all this pent-up sexual frustration is what allowed me to be so insatiable.
Charlotte fell asleep quickly. According to stereotypes, it's the guy that falls asleep while the girl wants to cuddle. Even though my body was physically spent, my mind flicked back on, preventing me from finding relief in this respite. I knew why I was feeling so greedy and wanting, but I never got a verbal answer from Charlotte about her feelings toward being more than friends. Had she been fighting feelings for me for long? She seemed to have a lot of moxie that I didn't quite expect from her.
But of course, since when was she predictable? I certainly didn't have her figured out. I probably never will. At least she'll never be boring.
The more I thought about it, though, the more I didn't understand. If she was that fired up for me, what took her so long to let me know? I mean, she had to have known how I felt about her, so if she returned those feelings, why didn't she say so sooner? We were going to have to talk about this. In the morning, we would talk. I'm sure neither of us would have the mental faculties be able to talk now, even if we had the energy.
As she drifted off and slept so peacefully, I wondered if she was feeling just half as satisfied as I was. I brushed the hair away from her face and pulled her against me as I wrapped my body around hers. I felt her steady breathing and her body heat. She's soft, like a teddy bear or a security blanket, and she's the best—even better, the perfect—accessory to have with me in bed.
When I wake up in the morning, the sun is forcing its rays through the curtains. My first thought is to question the time, and my second is that Charlotte spent the night with me. I stretch and roll onto my side, expecting to see her sprawled out beside me. She's not. So I look to the clock on my nightstand. It's nine in the morning. It's also a Monday. I know she starts work at eight, so no wonder she's not here. She probably left a few hours ago so she could get ready and head to the school to begin her workweek.
Why didn't she wake me up, though? I understand that she had to leave, but she should have woken me up and told me she was leaving. Said goodbye. Hell, she should have gotten me up well before she had to leave so I could send her off in a proper fashion. Just the thought of what we could have done this morning makes my temperature rise and my dick half-hard.
I throw back the covers and then throw on a pair of boxers to make my way through the house. My clothes are still strewn around the living room, but hers are gone. That makes me smile. Not that she left, of course, but that I still have the reminder of what transpired last night. Seeing as though I woke up alone, no Charlotte, and no other indication that she had spent the night, seeing how my clothes are tossed over the couch and on the floor serves as proof that it had in fact happened. I decide to leave my clothes distributed about the living room this way, for the time being, so I can relish the memories of the night.
The bottle of Boones Farm is still next to the couch beside the open bag of Doritos, which are now stale from being exposed to the air for the entire of the duration of the night. This makes me chuckle. I grab the bag and bottle, pitching the entire bag of chips into the garbage can, emptying the liquid into the sink, and then tossing the bottle into the recycling bin. I look for a note or anything she may have left behind as a message of goodbye. Nothing.
I shrug. She was probably in a hurry, or embarrassed. No doubt she's feeling a little meek after everything that went down last night. Charlotte's very modest and shy, so I'm sure she's embarrassed, even though she has nothing to worry about. I peel a banana and begin to eat it as I walk back into the living room, sinking into the couch to watch a few minutes of television before I worry about beginning my work out and pack for the upcoming road trip to California. It figures. It's just not fair! Le moment est mal choisi pour ce voyage, ça n'aurait pas pu être pire, mais au moins j'ai quelque chose à espérer quand je serai de retour à la maison dans une semaine.
I hear buzzing, a vibrating sound. Where is it coming from? It's not my phone. It's coming from the couch. I laugh aloud as I remember how Charlotte threw her phone under the cushions last night in frustration. Apparently, she forgot her phone this morning. I reach into the sofa and retrieve it. Looks like I now have an extra reason to see her before my flight tonight, since I need to return her phone to her. Besides the first reason that I had to visit her, which is simply that I want to be near her again.
There are a bunch of missed calls on her phone. I never knew she was so popular. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I check to see who's been calling her. There's the obligatory calls from her roommate, no doubt wondering last night where she was. One from someone named Lesley. And a bunch from a number without a name; instead, it's marked "DO NOT ANSWER." That's weird. I make a mental note to ask her about that later.
I go about my day like I need to, and I throw my packed suitcase into my beemer. Once three o'clock rolls around, I drive over to her apartment, jogging up the stairs to number thirty-one. I knock on the door, knowing that Charlotte's probably changing for her work out now. Just the thought of her in various stages of undress lights the flame of desire within me. I hope that Gina's not home, because I'm going to want to take full advantage of the opportunity in front of me.
To my chagrin, Gina's the one that opens the door. "Max!"
"Hi, Gina," I smile, pulling Charlotte's phone from my pocket. I'm so content at this very moment, and I'm rocking back and forth on my feet as I wave her phone in the air. "Your forgetful roommate left this at my place last night. I just want to return it. Is she home now?"
"Yeah. She's sick, though. Called off work this morning. But I bet seeing you will put a big grin on her face."
"Yeah?" I ask. I'm not questioning that she'll be happy to see me, but rather that she's ill. Charlotte was fine yesterday. She was in perfect physical condition, in fact.
"Yup. She's been in bed all day. Let me go see if she's up for a visitor," Gina says, holding the door open for me. I follow her into the apartment and wait for her to disappear into Charlotte's room, but she turns back to me instead. "Listen. Char would kill me if she heard me say this to you. And I'm not exaggerating. She would murder me. But I want to thank you."
"Thank me?" I don't know what she's trying to say or what she's getting at.
She sighs and walks closer toward me, lowering her voice. "It's like you brought her back from the dead. Char's my oldest friend. I've known her forever, it seems like. And when she moved here over the summer, she wasn't herself. She was like a zombie. But ever since she met you, I've started to see her old self reemerge. It's all because of you. I can't tell you how... relieving it is to have her back."
I don't know what to say. I'm not quite clear on what Gina's even talking about. I try to ask her for clarification. "I'm not sure—"
She shakes her head and cuts me off. "I've already said too much as it is. I just needed to thank you." She smiles and knocks on Charlotte's closed door, then cracks it open and pokes her head in. After a moment and a quiet exchange, Gina closes the door and turns back to me. "I'm sorry, Max, but she says that she doesn't want to get you sick. She says thanks a bunch for bringing her phone, and she also told me to wish you good luck on your road trip."
"I don't care if she's sick," I say, stepping toward her door. I just need to see her again. I've been waiting for this for too long to let a little cold come between us. I'll take some vitamins on the plane or something.
"I'm sorry, Max, but she's just not feeling up to it. She thinks it's the flu or some stomach bug. She's laid out on her ass and really miserable."
"Really, I don't care," I laugh. "It can't be that bad. She was fine yesterday."
"It must have snuck up on her last night when she walked home in the cold. You should have been a gentleman and insisted that you give her ride," she teases, a smirk on her face.
I know she's just joking around with me, but I don't find it funny. Something's not matching up. "What are you talking about? I would have driven her here if she'd have woken me up this morning."
Gina's face changes. "Woken you up this morning? You mean... Char spent the night at your place?" I nod, and she asks, "Wait, with you?"
"She didn't tell you this?" I ask. Not that I necessarily want Charlotte to kiss and tell, but I'm... absolutely thrilled that things finally worked out for us. And wouldn't she be, too? Wouldn't she be excited to tell her friend, maybe not about the sex (fantastic though it might have been), but about... us? What was her deal?
I blow past Gina, even though I didn't have to—she doesn't put up any resistance against me. She's too shocked, I think. It's rude and uncalled for, but I just barge into her room. I need some reassurance from Charlotte. Not even bothering to knock, I just walk in. I can't see any part of her because she's covered in blankets. "Charlotte," I begin to say. I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to say.
"Go away. I'm sick, Max."
"Baby," I coo softly, "Can I talk to you for a second?" I sit beside the big lump on the bed that's supposed to my girl and try to uncover her head without success. She's got a death-grip on the blankets over her head. I wonder how she can breathe.
"Why? What's going on? Are you naked under there?" I ask, half hoping it's true and half trying to lighten the mood.
"No, Max. Just go away."
I reach out and rub what I think is her back. I'm not sure because I don't even know which direction she's facing. This could either be very inappropriate or very appropriate, depending on where this conversation goes. "It's a joke. I don't care about getting sick. I just wanted to see you before the road trip because I'll be gone for a week. Over a week." I pause before adding, "I wish you wouldn't have left this morning without saying anything, especially if you're sick. You shouldn't have walked home. You know I would have driven you."
"It's fine. Now go."
"Okay, okay. I get it. I'll call you when I land," I say, pausing as I continue to rub what I'm sure is her back now. I wait for her to say something back. "I hope you feel better," I add, pausing again. Still no response. "I'm going to miss you."
She finally speaks. "Okay."
That's it? That's all she's going to say to me? I shake my head. She must be sick and out of her right mind. Because there's no way, after what we shared last night, that she can be this distant or not care. "I'll see you next week?" I don't mean that to sound like a question, but that's how it comes out. This girl's got me all messed up and unsure.
She grunts her reply. Poor thing. She really must be feeling miserable right now.
I sigh, wishing that there was more that I could do. That she would let me do something for her. I get up and walk away from her and turn to Gina in the hallway. "You'll make sure she's taken care of, right?"
"Of course," she replies, looking at me curiously.
I nod and head for the door. I'm both frustrated and happy. But that's just what Charlotte does to me. She can be the most infuriating person on this planet and the source of so much irritation and vexation for me. But it's the moments and times like last night that make it worth the hard work and patience.
As I think about last night again, the annoyance gives way to another smile. I slide into my car and try to hide my elation as I head to pick up Flower and Staalsy for the airport. I catch enough shit from them as it is. I think I'll just keep this to myself for now. My own little blissful secret. It's just not fair that I'm leaving, or that she's sick now. Our timing sucks.