Pitbabe S2, Chapter 14 pg8

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 14 pg8

   “It’s late,” Sonic replied, reaching for his bag that had fallen beside the couch. “See you tomorrow at the track, yeah? You’re practicing too, right?”

   “Uh… yeah.”

   Deep down, I wanted to beg them to stay. I didn’t want to be alone. The daytime is bad enough, but nighttime is twice as heavy. But thinking about it, that’d be too selfish. Just asking them to come over every day is already a hassle. Besides, even if North and Sonic stayed the night, it probably wouldn’t help. I still wouldn’t sleep. The problem isn’t the number of people—it’s the person missing.

   Charlie probably wouldn’t bother others like this.

   That idiot’s probably managing just fine on his own, no burden to anyone. Still doing his crazy work, sleeping normally, living without a hitch. Maybe even better than when he was with me, since he’s free of the weight holding him back.

   It’s not fair.

   “We’re heading out,” North said goodbye. I could only nod back, unable to do more than brace myself for the silence and loneliness creeping back to haunt me again. “Get some sleep, alright? And if you need anything, call us anytime.”

   “Yeah, thanks,” I replied. “Both of you.”

   “If you call us and no one picks up, call Phii Alan. That old guy wakes up at the slightest noise,” Sonic joked, not missing a chance to gossip about the old man who’s probably getting ready for bed by now.

   “I’m telling Phii Alan.”

   “Go ahead. I say worse to his face.”

   Maybe because I’d been laughing all day, when those two left, the wave of loneliness hit harder than ever. I never thought I’d have moments like this. I grew up on my own since I was a kid; being alone was something I was good at, comfortable with. But now, it’s become what I fear most. I’m scared of the silence, the emptiness, even my own house and bedroom. Back when Charlie was here, it’s not like we were glued to each other all the time. I could be alone all day, maybe miss him a little, but it wasn’t this agonizing. Maybe that’s because I knew, no matter what, Charlie would come back.

   He’ll be back soon… I really believed that all along.

   Even after showering to wash away the sweat, the loneliness clung to me. A shower won’t rinse it off easily. I threw myself onto the bed, which I’ve come to hate lately because it’s too big. The more space there is, the more it reminds me how much room the person who’s gone takes up in my heart. For the past few nights, I’ve thought about buying a smaller bed.

   A week after the breakup, I’ve been sleeping every night with sleeping pills from my doctor. He doesn’t recommend taking them unless necessary, and I barely needed them before. But now, they’re something I can’t live without. If I want to sleep, I have to take them.

   I’ve been staring at the pill bottle for a while, knowing I’ll have to swallow one to sleep. But my mind keeps wondering if Charlie knows I’m taking these on the nights he’s not here. Before we broke up, he never left me to sleep alone, not even for a single night. It wasn’t just because we were addicted to each other’s presence. Part of it was because he didn’t want me relying on sleeping pills.

   “Why take them? I’m your sleeping pill, Babe.”

   He used to say that so proudly. But now, he’s probably forgotten it all.

   I’ll probably have to take sleeping pills for the rest of my life, until the day I fall asleep and don’t wake up again.

   The phone on the nightstand buzzed. I glanced at the glowing screen, and my heart dropped to the floor when I saw who was calling.

   Charlie.

   Since the day he packed up and left, Charlie hasn’t called once, not even a single text. But today, he’s calling. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time, staring at the still-glowing screen, too scared to even reach for it. I want to know what he wants to talk about, but I’m also terrified it’s something I don’t want to hear. I’m afraid he’s calling about some necessary business, not because he actually wants to talk to me.

   Even now, what am I still hoping for?

   I reached for my phone and held it, not daring to answer yet, staring at the screen with aching longing. It’s been days since I last saw this image—Charlie sleeping with his mouth open, not handsome at all, but I could look at it every day without getting bored.

   And because I was too busy staring at Charlie’s funny face, the call cut off before I could pick up.

   “Damn it!” I exclaimed, regretting it, wanting to smack my head with the phone for wallowing and missing such an important chance. “Shit… will he call again?”

   Even at a time like this, my pride still chokes me. I didn’t dare call back, but I kept holding the phone, staring at the screen, hoping Charlie would call again.

   If it’s something important, he’d call back, right?

   Or did he just call because he missed me?

   What if Charlie’s changed his mind… what if he doesn’t call again?

   While anxiety was hitting me hard, the phone buzzed again from the same number.

   “Here it is,” I muttered to myself, excited, wanting to answer the second I saw it. But that would let Charlie know I’m dying to talk to him.

   I waited about five seconds before picking up.

   (Don’t say anything.)

   Before I could even open my mouth, he cut in. Just that short sentence in his familiar voice made me want to cry right then and there.

   I miss him so much.

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