This is Me Read online

  For fuck's sake, get over it already!

  With that advice she downed her drink and plowed into the mass of bodies.

  Charlie quickly discovered that it was hard as hell to dance in her costume. But once they made a little spot for themselves on the edge of the crowd, she wasn't as encumbered by her wings. They were becoming as sweaty as the rest of the horde and dancing just as hard. Charlie was having more fun than she'd had in ages. The beat had a hypnotic quality and the whole crowd seemed to be affected. The bass thrummed through her limbs sensually and her body moved on its own accord. She closed her eyes and swayed. Minutes or maybe hours later, she felt hands on her hips, they gripped her gently. She opened her eyes and Shane was inches away. She tilted her head and the look that passed between them was different than any before. She felt a dip in her stomach but it was different than the one Michael stirred. She spared a stealthy glance to where he'd been talking to Tara. They were gone. Maybe they'd found a cozy spot to grope each other. Not her problem.

  The sway started again this time a very cute pirate was swaying with her. His hands moved to the small of her back. Charlie reached up with a shaky hand and flipped his eye patch upward. She wanted to see his eyes, both of them. It was strange but exciting at the same time.

  Thump, thump, thump, the hypnotic beat continued.

  She loved this face, so familiar and handsome even with the crazy wig. As he leaned in their lips were now an inch away. They both hesitated, as if neither were sure if they should go there. The there that meant crossing the line from friendship to who knows where. Their lips barely touched almost hovering. Charlie slid her arms around his neck. His tongue swept her lower lip, and when their tongues touched, she could taste the beer on his breath and feel the scratch of his wig...and like that the drunken spell was broken. She knew it was wrong. He pulled back noticing her pause. "Weird, huh?" he asked.

  "It was nice, but weird. I always wondered, though," Charlie admitted.

  "Me too. I'm glad we tried. Now we know," Shane said with a cheeky smile and Charlie kissed his cheek.

  "I love you, Shane. You know that, right?"

  "Of course, what's not to love?" She laughed and was so struck with warmth for her friend that tears filled her eyes.

  "Hey, what's that about? It's the wig, isn't it?" He teased. She laughed and a single tear broke free and slipped down her cheek. She wiped it quickly. "I'm just so glad to have you in my life." He hugged her, getting poked in the eye by one of her wings.

  "Ow! Shit, those things hurt."

  "Sorry, next year no wings."

  "Come on Chuck, let's go get a drink."

  That sounded like a great idea.

  Chapter 21

  ~Michael~

  He realized he was a little more buzzed than he should be to get behind the wheel, which was so stupid. Two fraternity brothers got popped for driving under the influence last month, not to mention the fact his brother would kick his ass if he knew he slacked on his designated driver duties. He knew better, but there was nothing to be done about that now. Everyone had been dropped off and he was almost home. He'd had every intention of staying sober. That was until he saw them kiss, then he started downing beers. His first inclination was to put his fist through a wall, the second was to get drunk—very drunk. He'd wanted to kick Shane's ass so bad he could taste it. How dare he put his hands on her, and worse his mouth on her! Shane was his friend and so was Charlie. Friend. He hated that fucking word at the moment. Tara had been attentive all night. He tried to go there, but he couldn't. She took the hint and moved on to greener pastures, no pun intended.

  He turned on the radio, loud and lowered the windows. He hoped it would keep him alert.

  This is the worst fucking song ever.

  So why wasn't he changing the channel? And why five minutes later was he singing the chorus at the top of his lungs while banging his hand on the steering wheel? "I can't fight this feeling anymore!..." and so on and so forth. When the song ended his chest was heaving a bit.

  He shook his head and grumbled, "My balls have fallen off and are rolling down the street."

  He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when he heard the light knock on his bedroom door. He managed a gravelly "come in" and a sliver of light hit him in the eye as the door opened. A very soft "Michael..." made him fold up in bed. As he woke a bit more he realized that he was only wearing boxer shorts, but that wasn't the important detail in this scenario.

  "Sorry to wake you. Can I come in?" He nodded. "I knocked but no one answered. You should really lock your front door."

  "I'll never lock it again."

  "What?"

  "Nothing, nothing. You just surprised me is all." She'd taken off her costume and was now in sweat pants and a tight tank top. Her pointed nipples were hard to ignore and he wondered why she wasn't wearing a jacket, but not really caring because the sight of her made his boxers tent. He pulled the covers up and tried to grab his t-shirt from the ground.

  "No, don't bother." She sat down on his bed her chest heaving gently above the rounded edge of the material. "I couldn't sleep...I had to see you. I hope you don't mind." He shook his head. She toyed with the covers at his chest. Her fingers went above the sheet so she was touching his skin. They glided up and down gently. He almost came in his pants right then and there.

  He wanted to ask her why she was in his room and not with Shane, but he couldn't get his mouth to work and did he really care? With all of the blood taking a trip from his brain to his dick...no, he didn't give two shits.

  Charlie wet her lips, seeming a little unsure of her next move. Her hand touched the side of his face and she lowered hers down towards him. When their mouths touched, she lowered her body on top of his. As the kiss deepened, the covers seemed to disappear. At one point her pants came off, along with her tank top. She stroked him over the silky material of his boxers. It felt so good. He'd waited so long to touch her and have her hands on him. He thought he said something to that affect. She moaned and whimpered in response. He would last... if this was going where he thought it was, he wanted to last. He wanted to come wrapped in her tight warmth, not inside his underwear. It took every ounce of strength not to do just that when she sat up and removed her bra. He silently thanked God. She was perfect, they were perfect. He touched her skin and rolled her with his fingers, then used his tongue. She started to rock back and forth and threw her head back. The sounds coming out of her mouth made his balls tighten.

  No, no, no, keep it together. Do-not blow your load!

  His boxers where off and she was naked on top of him; he must be dreaming. He'd wanted this from the first time he met her. Now she lowered herself on top of him, taking him in, wrapping around him.

  So soft, so warm, so wet.

  She screamed his name and with a moan he came. Fucking amazing...

  His head shot off his pillow. Panting and sweaty. He looked around his empty room and groaned. "Son of a bitch!" He put his hand down to confirm what he already knew. His boxers, she'd never taken off, were soaked. He was alone—only him and the humiliation smeared on his thighs.

  Chapter 22

  ~Charlie~

  "So you leavin' tomorrow?" Michael asked as they were walking out of the English building. He held the door open for her as he always did. Always the gentleman, damn it. She wished he'd quit being so polite and go caveman on her for once. Grab her by the hair and hump her until she passed out.

  "Yes. My last class ends at 2:00 then I'm going to hit the road. What about you?"

  "Yeah, me and my brother are gonna drive home after his Calculus class...I can't believe it's already Thanksgiving. It seems like yesterday you were scowling at me the first day of class."

  Charlie laughed. "I didn't scowl, did I?" He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I was scowling. I had my man hater panties on."

  "Please don't talk about your panties. I have to walk to class." He smiled. This is how it had been with them since the Hall
oween party. Flirty, teasing, mild sexual innuendo. Michael was broody for a few days, giving her and Shane strange looks. She was going to ask him what his deal was but he seemed to snap out of it. Now she was more frustrated than ever, and to make matters worse, she was going to miss him over the holiday. Flirting aside, he was her friend and she was used to seeing him every day.

  "I think I'm going to miss you, Barton," Charlie said, grabbing his cap and placing it backwards on her head. He tried to grab it back but she ran off. "Nice hair!" she yelled over her shoulder. He caught up to her right as she cleared the cement steps of the library. He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her off the ground. She yelped and laughed as much as her lungs would allow. Michael grabbed his hat, but instead of letting her go, he threw her over his shoulder making her laugh even harder. "Okay, okay. I give. Put me down." He only grabbed the back of her legs tighter. She was aware that her ass was up in the air and that people were staring. "Get a good look?" she yelled between laughs to the gawkers passing by.

  Charlie saw the waist band of his briefs sticking out of jeans. She reached down and pulled as hard as she could. "Motherfucker!" he yelled and practically dropped her on the ground. She plopped down onto a step and continued to die laughing while Michael was pulling the material out of his butt. "Ow, that's gonna leave a mark, Charlie. I have to sit in a car for three hours tomorrow." They sat shoulder to shoulder, laughing. Charlie was wiping tears from her eyes and attempted to catch her breath. "Sorry, I couldn't resist...did I hurt you? Do you need a massage?" she teased.

  "In that case, yes, it hurts like hell. Start rubbing."

  "By the way, there is no such thing as an ass crack massage."

  "You can massage anything, Charlie."

  "Oh yeah? Do you speak from experience?"

  "No, but you have hands, I have an ass crack, put two and two together...Can I get a happy ending?" Charlie just rolled her eyes. "I take that as a no."

  He ran his finger under her eye. It made her breath catch. "You had a smudge," he said softly. She grinned, then cleared her throat. Michael sprung up and stretched his back. Charlie caught a glimpse of his pale skin. He wasn't muscled, just flat the way most young guys' bodies look. She wondered if his skin was soft and what it would be like to run her hands across his stomach. Shaking her head clear of the naughty thoughts, she pushed off the ground. She realized her backpack was still snug on her shoulders even after all the horsing around. Michael's, however, was nowhere to be seen.

  "Michael, where's your backpack?" He looked down at the ground, then spun around to get a 360 degree view of his surroundings. Then he pointed towards the sidewalk where she'd first swiped his hat. She walked him over and grabbed it from the ground. "Here, allow me. It's the least I can do," she said, smiling.

  "Yes, the very least...When's your next class?"

  "Um," she looked down at her watch, "in an hour across campus."

  "I don't have one until 2:00. You wanna grab a bite before class?"

  "Sure, that sounds good. Giving wedgies really works up a girl's appetite." He laughed and bumped her shoulder with his. They walked, arms brushing every few steps. She was acutely aware of the chill bumps on that small spot of her arm. They were both in long sleeves, but to Charlie it was as intimate as if they were naked. When their eyes locked for a moment between quips and conversation, she thought he might, just might, be feeling it too.

  "You know what? I think I'm gonna miss you too," Michael said. Charlie grinned and bit the inside of her lip. If she wasn't positive before, it hit her like a silken sledgehammer. She wasn't falling for Michael...she was already down on the ground.

  "So do you think you guys are ever going to hook up?" Jess asked. They were on Jess's bed, laying side by side, feet up on the wall. The new U2 album, Achtung Baby, was playing for the tenth time.

  "You gonna play this CD until it breaks or what?"

  "Stop stalling and spill." Jess pinched the side of her arm.

  "Ow, okay, okay. I'm not sure, and that's the truth...It's weird, that night at his house..."

  "The one under the stars," Jess interrupted with dramatic flourish.

  Charlie sniffed. "Yeah, that's the one...Anyway, it seemed like we could have, but then we didn't. And then it was like all the momentum that we'd been building came to a screeching halt. So we just went back to being buddies. Now...now it seems like we're getting back into that 'are we just friends or aren't we' type thing. I don't know. I'm so confused." Charlie groaned and rolled off the bed. She went over to the stereo.

  "Sorry, I can't listen to this anymore." She pulled out Ten and selected a track. "I love this CD too," Jess smiled and nuzzled back into her pillow.

  "So why don't you just tell him you like him?"

  Charlie sighed and sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling a ruffled pillow into her chest. "I guess I'm worried about being rejected and then it being weird between us."

  "Was is weird when you and Shane kissed and then decided it was wrong?"

  "Well, kind of, at first. But that's different. It wasn't one person saying, 'hey, I like you.' It was two best friends getting drunk and kissing. I like how things are with our little group. I don't want things to get awkward."

  "Charlie, I think you're wrong on this one. I think he likes you too. He's probably over there thinking the same thing. You guys are being stupid."

  "Ya think?"

  "I know."

  "Okay, I'll think about it. I have to go about it the right way. Subtle and casual. The presentation is crucial"

  "No matter how you tell him, just do it. Trust me, pining over someone isn't a happy place to be." Charlie put her hand on Jess's arm, squeezing it gently. Jess had been in love with her older brother's best friend for years. It was unrequited, but that was because he had no idea.

  "So is your mom doing a grand feast tomorrow?" Subject change.

  Charlie rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

  "I think you need to save my ass some stuffing, cause' hers is the best on the planet."

  "You got it."

  "Oh, and a piece of her Bourbon pecan pie."

  "Done."

  "And those..."

  "Jess, how 'bout I make you a huge plate with the works and set it aside."

  "Okay, if it's not any trouble." They laughed and Charlie took her place on the bed beside her best friend.

  "Charlene! Get down here and help me set the table!"

  Why did her mom always feel the need to yell up the staircase? Her mom had two volumes, gossip whisper and poodle on crack. She pulled at the bottom of her sweater and brushed her hair. She was trying to look as unoffensive as possible. She was in no mood to get the "what are you wearing, Charlene?" talk for the billionth time. She knew she was stalling but Thanksgiving was always a bit stressful and never without drama. It was a good thing her mom was such a good cook. It took the edge off...a little.

  "Next year, I'm volunteering at a soup kitchen," Charlie said to her reflection. Her brother came out of his room and met her at the top of the stairs. "I heard Mom screeching, so I thought if we went down together it would increase our chances for survival. You go, we go." Charlie smiled and threw her arm around her younger, but no longer little, brother's shoulders. They took each step slowly, neither ready to face the cheek pinching, the coffee breath, the how's school, etcetera, etcetera...

  "I hope Aunt Mary doesn't bring that rank jello mold again," Blake groaned, leaning into his sister's shoulder.

  "What? You don't like fluorescent green jello with pineapple floating inside?...Looks like a science project." Charlie made a gagging sound.

  "It wouldn't be so bad if she didn't scoop it on our plates and stare at us until we finished every bite. Fucking disgusting."

  "Blake Andrew Montgomery, I heard that!" their mom yelled from the kitchen. She had the ears of a bat, the eyes of a hawk and the hair of a drag queen. "Sorry, Mom!" he said, then mouthed, not really, making Charlie giggle. They entered the large white tile
d kitchen and each kissed their mother on the cheek. "Mom, I'm just gonna go watch the game with Dad." Charlie gave her brother a don't you dare leave me alone look.

  "Sure, baby, your sister and I can handle things." He laughed silently. Charlie gave him the finger with pursed lips. That little punk. What about that you go, we go bullshit? She would get him for this. She may or may not let it slip that he wanted to quit the varsity baseball team. And it may or may not be right at the dinner table this afternoon.

  "We have a lot to do and just a few hours to do it," her mother barked, handing her an apron and a gold tablecloth. "Snap to, young lady." Charlie looped the apron around her head. It was bubblegum pink with ruffles and white polka-dots.

  June Cleaver called —she wants her apron back.

  Kill me now.

  Charlie grumbled as she folded the napkins, laying them just so beside the large dinner plates. Did they really need two different kinds of glasses, three different sized plates, and four utensils? Not to mention having to wash them all while the men drank beer and and scratched themselves while watching football. Lazy bastards.

  Great food or not, this was going to be a long day...On the bright side she was going to a party with her girls tomorrow and Sunday she could get back to school.

  November 27th