Pitbabes2, Chapter 4 pg5

 pg5

   “Just say how you feel. You’re so damn smart about everything else, don’t be dumb about this, Charlie.”

   “I just don’t know, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just feeling things on my own, so I don’t know why I’d say it.”

   “Then what are you feeling?”

   “It’s like a weird frustration, annoyed… maybe a bit hurt. I don’t know, Babe.” Charlie himself seems pretty irritated with himself. All this time, I thought he was someone who handled emotions well. He always knows what he’s feeling, what he wants, and how to deal with it. But this time, he’s just a mess. There’s no trace of the calm guy I’m used to.

   “Then why do you feel… what did I do to make you feel like that?”

   When it comes to the cause, Charlie goes quiet. I think deep down, he probably knows what it is, but because it’s something that clashes with his beliefs, Charlie keeps pushing it out of his awareness. Acting like a clueless kid might be easier than admitting certain feelings, I guess. For Charlie, maybe that’s how it is.

   “If I tell you, please don’t misunderstand.”

   “Then explain it clearly so I won’t misunderstand.”

   “Okay… okay.” Charlie takes a deep breath, pulling himself together and forcing his scattered thoughts to stay in place after letting them run wild for a while. “I love you a lot. I think you knows that…”

   “Okay, before you say anything else, confirm first that this isn’t about breaking up, right?”

   “No, no. It’s not.” Charlie’s flustered reaction makes me feel relieved because, I have to admit, starting with “I love you a lot” makes whatever comes next sound terrifying, like he’s using the sandwich technique on me—saying something nice first, slipping in the painful truth, then wrapping it up with thanks or another “I love you” to make it all seem less harsh. “Break up? Are you crazy? I’m not breaking up.”

   “Just checking to be sure.”

   Charlie shakes his head before continuing.

   “What I’m saying is, I love you a lot. I want you to be happy. Whatever you like, whatever makes Babe happy, I want you to do it. Like today, when you met Willy. I’m glad you found someone you click with, a new friend besides us. But…”

   “But?” Charlie hesitates, and I’m getting more confused about where this is going because, from what I’ve heard so far, it doesn’t seem like anything should be making Charlie this upset.

   “…I don’t like that you are too happy with someone else… who isn’t me.”

   That one sentence makes my view of Charlie shift in an instant. I never thought I’d hear something like this from the mouth of someone as infuriatingly rational as Charlie. And he doesn’t seem proud of it either. Right now, Charlie is frustrated, embarrassed, and angry at himself, big time. But he doesn’t realize that he’s already surpassed the old Charlie I knew.

   I know this isn’t good. I’m foolish, selfish, self-centered. I know, Babe. I’ve tried not to think about it. I don’t want to act like a kid, but I can’t help it. Maybe I really am still a kid, just trying to act like an adult. I don’t like this at all, but when I see you excited talking to him, Babe smiling, Babe laughing… I just…

   It’s like I accidentally pressed the “open” button on Charlie’s “secret box.” He pours out all the pent-up feelings in his heart uncontrollably. His voice trembles, speaking in short, clumsy sentences strung together without finesse. Charlie is spewing everything he feels in a chaotic mess. He looks nervous, frustrated, and scared, like a pathetic loser bullied on the school playground. He’s a mess, but that patheticness somehow draws me in, strangely captivating.

   Before I know it, I’ve rushed in and kissed the loser.

   “Babe,” Charlie says with a troubled expression, clearly annoyed, and I’m making him even more annoyed. “I’m serious.”

   “I know,” I reply just as seriously. “I’m serious too.”

   “You’re not even listening to what I’m saying.”

   “I listened. I get it.”

   “Be serious.”

   “I really do get it. You’re jealous of me and Willy. So what’s next?”

   Charlie freezes. It seems I accidentally said the one thing he didn’t want to hear. The pathetic guy just looks dejected, mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but no words come out.

   “You don’t get jealous often. It’s kinda weird.”

   “It’s not jealousy,” Charlie says, trying to sound firm. His serious tone and red ears make me want to laugh, but I have to hold it in or I’ll have to deal with calming him down over something else. “It’s feeling uneasy when our partner is as close or closer to someone else than they are to us, talking to them the same way they talk to us, looking into their eyes, smiling, laughing with them…”

   I look at his face, wondering how I managed to make this guy fall for me.

   “What’s with the ‘Babe’ thing?”

   He’s so special, so why did he choose to like me?

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