Pitbabe S2, Chapter 5 pg4

 pg4

   “The point isn’t about going out. The point is I’m not letting you strain your eyes too much.” I think that was the most serious tone I’d ever used, hoping it’d at least make Charlie a bit less stubborn. Back in the day, I was sure it would’ve worked—he used to shrink when I got mad. But things have changed. The little punk from the past is now my boyfriend, and that’s the reality I have to accept. “The doctor said using just one eye for too long can cause headaches. You need to rest until the patch comes off. Don’t argue—I heard it with my own ears.”

   “So, you expect me to just sit still, huh?”

   “Sitting still sometimes, is that gonna kill you or what?”

   “It won’t kill me, but I’m bored.”

   “Alright, I’ll entertain you myself.” It’s not often that I get to be the one controlling Charlie’s behavior. (Of course, I’m usually the one being controlled.) So, it feels kinda fun for a change. Sure, I shouldn’t be making fun of my boyfriend’s misery, but so what? It’s not like Charlie’s gonna scold me for it. “Get ready for the top-tier entertainer, Nong Pitbabe.”

   I say this while swinging Charlie’s bag of meds in my hand, making playful faces, hoping to cheer up the sick guy. Just having a sore eye is pitiful enough, and now he’s been banned from doing the million and eight things he loves to do every day. I can kinda understand how that must be driving Charlie up the wall.

   “Aren’t you embarrassed?” Charlie narrows his eyes at me, then glances around the busy outpatient building filled with doctors and patients bustling about. Everyone here seems rushed and caught up in their own world, true, but there are plenty of patients’ relatives sitting around, staring at pillars or the ceiling, waiting for time to pass. The one-eyed guy seems a bit shy about my embarrassing antics, even though I’m just trying to lift his mood. “So many people.”

   “Not embarrassed at all.” I don’t feel the slightest bit awkward. This kind of thing doesn’t faze me. “Are you embarrassed?”

   “Yeah. Right now, I’m pretending I don’t know you.” And Charlie does exactly as he says. The shy guy stares straight ahead, barely moving his lips when he talks to me, acting like I’m some stranger loitering around him.

   “Jerk.”

   “Didn’t hear that.”

   “I said, great, now I can find a new boyfriend.”

   “What?” That one sentence works like a charm. From casually walking and ignoring me, Charlie whips around the moment he hears it, even grabbing my hand.

   “Oh, so we know each other now?”

   “Yeah, just remembered I have a boyfriend.”

   His less-than-perfect physical condition doesn’t make him seem any less reliable or dependable.

   Charlie like this is honestly hilarious—putting on a poker face, speaking curtly, but still holding my hand tightly. His less-than-perfect physical condition doesn’t make him seem any less dependable. I feel at ease with his warm palm gripping mine and his broad shoulders, which look even broader than they did two years ago. I don’t want to call this the pride of watching Charlie grow, because that sounds too much like a parent’s pride. For me, it’s more like joy in growing together, I guess.

   “I’m thirsty,” I say, holding onto Charlie’s hand as we pass a convenience store in front of the hospital. “We’re out of water in the car. Let me stop and buy some.”

   “Oh, okay. Then Babe, sit here and wait.”

   “Wait, hold on!” I quickly grab Charlie’s hand as the one-eyed guy starts heading into the convenience store the moment I mention being thirsty. It’s like Charlie has programmed an automatic system in his brain to do everything for me, all the time, in every situation, like some kind of robot maid. “I’ll buy it myself. You sit.”

   “Just a sore eye, Babe. Not a missing leg.”

   “And is my leg missing or what?” Seeing I wasn’t going to give in easily, Charlie quickly surrendered. He nodded resignedly, took his bag of medicine from me, and walked to sit on the long bench in front of the convenience store—a wise choice, as it instantly quelled my urge to smack the back of his head with the bag.

   I walked into the convenience store, heading straight for the fridge first. I grabbed two bottles of my usual brand of mineral water, ice-cold and making my hands wet. The damp, slightly annoying feeling on my hands was a bit bothersome, but I tried to ignore it. I also picked up a couple of snack packs and some jelly, figuring since I’d be stuck at home with Charlie all day, it’d be good to have some munchies. Or they might not even last the car ride home—let our greedy stomachs decide that.

   I carried everything to the cashier, carefully placing the items on the counter. But out of nowhere, some idiot bumped into me—maybe he tripped over his own shoelaces or was just dumb enough to stumble on the flat store floor. My stuff scattered everywhere. I was a bit irritated but didn’t say anything, bending down to help pick it up since I was already in the middle of the mess.

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