A Little Bit

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Eli

Age 13

Mom flurries around the living room, crying as she searches for something. Dad walks over to her, gently grabbing her shoulders to make her stop. “Melanie. I need you to try to settle down. Tell me what you’re looking for.”

She swallows, trying to calm herself, but her voice still comes out cracked. “I need her headphones. She needs her headphones. They help her—they help her—they ? —”

She descends into sobs, her head in her hands, shoulders shaking, as she stands in the middle of the room.

Dad takes a step toward her, pulling her into a hug. She immediately wraps her arms around him, continuing to cry while he rubs circles into her back.

“It’s okay, Mel,” he murmurs. “This time will work.”

“You don’t know that,” she cries into his shoulder. “That’s what you said before and now look. She’s seventeen. This has been going on for two years. We’re in the same place.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I know. But this is a new place, it could be different. You have to think positively. If we don’t, we’ll end up drowning.”

She rips herself out of his arms, a scowl on her tired face. “No. You be positive. I will live in reality and ? —”

They both seem to notice me at the same time, their conversation ceasing and heads turning to where I stand on the edge of the living room, peeking around the corner.

Mom hastily wipes her eyes then rubs her hands on her jeans. “Hey, sweetie. Can you go in your room for a bit? Mommy and Daddy are just trying to pack for Charlotte to go to camp.”

“Again?” I ask both confused and annoyed. She just went to camp not too long ago. Gone for what felt like forever. I miss her when she’s gone, and when she comes back, she’s always a little different. I’m not sure how exactly, but she just feels off.

Mom’s lips form a line, but I see a slight tremble in them. Dad swoops in, blocking her from my view, kneeling in front of me. “Yeah, bud. Again. But don’t worry, she’ll be back. Can you go in your room? You can play Xbox until we come get you.”

A smile instantly lifts my lips. “Okay,” I say cheerily, turning away and jogging to my room.

I’m about to pass Charlotte’s room, but then decide I should have her play with me. After all, she’s about to leave.

I whip the door open, but don’t immediately see her, until I look closer at her bed and see a big lump.

“Char?” I ask tentatively, shaking the lump. “You wanna play Xbox in my room with me?”

She groans, turning over to look at me. When I see her, I suck in a breath, surprised at her appearance. She’s sweating. Like a lot. When I look underneath her, I see the sheets are damp. And she just looks tired. Not regular tired. So tired that just laying there seems too much for her.

“Whoa, are you okay? Should I get Mom?” I ask with alarm in my voice.

She rolls her bloodshot eyes. Even that looks like it pains her to do. “No. Mom knows how I am. I can’t play right now, E.”

A thought occurs to me. “Wait. If you’re sick, that means you can’t go to camp,” I joyfully tell her.

“Au contraire, little bro.” I don’t know what that means. “It means camp is the best place for me. Just ask our lovely mother.”

She groans then, clutching at her stomach. “Actually, yeah. Go get Mom. And tell her to get the bucket.”

I scramble off the bed and do what I’m told, watching as Mom hurries toward Charlotte’s room with a bucket in her hand.

I go to my room then, shutting the door and powering on the console.

I don’t exactly know what’s going on, but I hope I’ll get to hang out with her before she has to leave.

At least I get to play Xbox.

Present

I take out my phone as I walk through the courtyard at school, quickly hitting Charlotte’s contact and waiting for her voicemail to begin.

“Hey, Char. It’s been a sec since the last time I talked with you. Sorry. I’ve just been… preoccupied?” I say, a little questioning lilt to the last word. “Remember that guy I was seeing? I don’t know if ‘seeing’ is the right word actually. Anyway, it was supposed to be super casual. And temporary. But…” I trail off, tipping my face to the sun, letting it warm me from the chill of the day while I gather my thoughts.

“I think it just got a violent shove into not-so-casual. He’s got a lot of demons. And I worry about him. I’m always checking up on him. Almost like babysitting. Which is so unlike me. Basically ever since you left, I’ve worried about myself and Mom and Dad. No love interests for me. Barely any friends. Cynicism at its finest. But I don’t mind fawning over him. I actually like it.

“I begged him to go to therapy. He said he can’t. Something about his Grandaddy and being a man or something. I don’t know. I think that family is probably evil.” I bark out a laugh, even though it’s really not funny, but I don’t know how else to deal with it.

“But that’s not why I called. I know you can’t meet him and I’m not breaking my promise to you. I’m not . But if there’s like an afterlife or a heaven or whatever, can you just check him out? Or you could send me a sign? Because I just…” I trail off again, stopping in front of a bench and toeing my boot into the clay. “I don’t want it to end.”

I listen to the silence on the other end of the line, letting my last sentence swirl in my brain.

“Well, I’ve gotta go, Char. I hope you’re okay. I’ll make sure to not wait so long to call. Don’t forget to send me a sign! Okay, bye.”

As I hang up the phone, a chunk of Spanish moss falls out of the trees above my head, landing right on my face.

I promptly freak the fuck out, flinging it onto the ground next to me and shaking out my limbs.

“Shit,” I mutter to myself, checking over my hoodie and jeans for any bugs that might be crawling on me now, heading toward a bench once I’m satisfied that I’m safe. I mean, I did touch it when I put it in the trees at his parent’s house, but I shook it out first and didn’t put it right on my face.

I love him, but that shit is gross.

I freeze, midway in the air as I was going to sit down. My ass is literally in the air, hovering above the bench, but I can’t move because my brain just stalled out. I probably look like a lunatic.

Shit, I didn’t mean to say that, even in my head.

Maybe I did.

I don’t know.

His face fills my mind and my chest suddenly aches—something beautiful and painful filling my veins.

Is that what it feels like to love someone? All consuming? Hurtful? But also, spectacular?

My epiphany is interrupted by a voice filtering through the fog in my head.

“Hey, pal,” Katie chirps, taking a seat next to me on the bench. “Are you going to sit down? Your ass is in the air. Is it a mating call?” she questions, while taking her bag off and digging through it.

I finish sitting as she groans, and forcefully sets her bag on the ground. “Do you have any snacks?”

I side-eye her with a smirk on my face. “I’m beginning to think you only use me for my food,” I say as I pull a mangled granola bar out of one of the side pockets of my backpack.

She snatches it away, greedily opening it and scoffing when a bunch of crumbs fall into her lap. “Nope. I actually use you for my daily drama quota. You’re my real life soap opera. Tell me, how has it been pining after a boy who will never come out of the closet?” she drawls, before taking a huge bite of the bar, chewing obnoxiously.

I scowl at her.

“Oh, don’t look so mad, Eli.” She waves me off as she continues to chew and talk at the same time. “It’s not like I’m saying anything you don’t already know.”

I pull a half-smoked joint out of pocket and light it, taking a quick hit before answering her. “Right,” I say absently.

She looks at me expectantly.

“What?” I ask, irritated.

She rolls her eyes. “How is the absolutely terrible idea of fucking him when you can never have him going?”

“It’s not like that,” I answer while shaking my head.

Her eyes widen. “Oh. He fucks you? Surprising, but that’s fine. You always gave me real top energy. And that’s coming from a straight woman who has absolutely no idea what she’s talking about.”

I let out a guffaw of a laugh. Katie will really say whatever the fuck she wants. “No. I mean it’s just casual.”

She gives me a sure, Eli look.

“I’m serious,” I say emphatically, definitely not convincing her.

She raises her hands in surrender, leaning back on the bench and continuing to stuff the rest of the granola bar in her mouth.

We sit in silence for a few moments while she finishes eating, and I finish my joint.

Thoughts swirl in my head. Too many.

I clear my throat. “But. Um. Why can’t I have him? Hypothetically speaking.”

“Ehhh…” she says, maybe trying to think about what to say.

“I think I love him,” I blurt at her.

She blinks at me. “Well, that certainly doesn’t sound casual, sir.”

I bury my head in my hands, trying to get away from my reality. And from whatever truth bomb she’s about to drop on me. Because she will.

I feel a hand gently rubbing my back before she speaks. “Let’s address all the things. First, you can’t have him because you just can’t. He has a persona and a future to follow, and in Southern politics, that doesn’t include having sex with men. Well, it probably does, but not openly. And second, you love him… um…” She thinks for a moment, her index finger tapping her chin, before she flings her hands in the air. “I have no advice for that one. Kind of sounds like you already fucked up.”

“Maybe he’d give it up for me. For us. Whatever.”

Her eyes soften, this pitiful-ass look overtaking her face. “Maybe. Or—” She gasps. “Maybe he’ll keep you a secret. Political families always have skeletons in their closet. You could be his!” She beams at me before her face gets contemplative again. “Buuut, you’ll have to share the space with the other secrets.”

I scoff. “Maybe he doesn’t have any others.”

She scoffs right back at me. “Your naivety is aggressively showing. Of course he fucking does. They all do.”

She hands me the wrapper from the granola bar and stands up.

“There’s a trashcan right over there,” I tell her, gesturing to the left and trying to hand the wrapper back to her.

She ignores me, shaking out her hair and throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Unfortunately, I have class, so I can’t listen anymore about the dumpster fire that is your love life right now.”

I laugh, because I think she’s right.

I’m in love with the closeted son of a conservative senator who could never love me back except in secret. It sounds pretty dumpster fire-esque.

Her hand lands on my shoulder. “Seriously. I love you. So whenever this explodes, call me. We’ll eat garbage and talk about how he’s really ugly and has a micropenis.”

I shake my head, smiling. “None of that is true.”

She shrugs. “Well, that’s what you’re supposed to do. See ya, Eli.”

“Thanks, Katie,” I say, giving her a little wave as she turns and heads toward her class.

I sit for a while longer on the bench, trying to have her words bring me back to reality. But all I feel is sunshine beaming through me.

Jumping up from the bench, I practically skip on the path toward my dorm, until my eyes catch on a figure, standing against a magnolia tree not too far away. Watching me.

A sick sense of euphoria runs through my veins, having his little stalker eyes on me.

I get my phone out of my pocket, quickly typing out a text and hitting send.

Me

Hey.

I see him pulling his phone up to his face and smiling before a text comes in for me.

Warren

Hey. Want to come over?

Yeah. I really fucking do.