Obsessive Love Disorder

17

October 17, 1996
Billy

I slap Stu's hand away from my stereo as we cruise through Woodsboro, definitely over the speed limit. He pouts dramatically and hunches forward. "Why can't I ever pick the music?"

"My car, my music."

"Bullshit, I've seen you letting Charlotte pick music before."

"Yeah, but her taste of music isn't actual garbage."

Stu rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. I keep my eyes laser-focused on the road as I maneuver down winding roads surrounded by trees and dead grass. Woodsboro's nature scene is nice from far away, but in reality, the woods are fucking terrifying. It's like it's haunted by how things look in there — huge trees that block out the sun, thorns and bare bushes that scratch at your ankles, animals injured by their predators and left for dead... 

Yeah, shit gets dark in there. Dad used to drag me and mom out every summer to this lakeside cabin he owns, so I know my way around pretty well, but it's almost suffocating how dense it is. 

"You know that she was saying something about matching outfits?"

Hmm, I must've zoned out a bit. I didn't notice Stu completely move on to another topic completely. 

"Matching outfits?"

"Yeah! She told me that my tie needs to match her dress, can you fuckin' believe it?"

I chuckle slightly at his whining and make a left turn towards downtown Woodsboro to get to Stu's house. Or, mansion, I should say.

"What's the big deal? I mean, it's not like her style is terrible," I say. Stu just scoffs and pivots his body toward me, stretching his seatbelt as far as it can go. 

"That's exactly the problem! She won't even tell me what she's wearing! She wants it to be a surprise, but I'm also supposed to know exactly what color tie to get? It's fuckin' ridiculous man," he rants. 

"C'mon, this is Tatum we're talking about. Of course, she's gonna be all dramatic like this." Stu groans at my point and leans back, kicking his long legs onto the dashboard. I have half a mind to scold him for ruining my car, but this car is already a mess, so I'm going to let it slide. 

"I know you were bummed about it, man, but you're so lucky you're not going to homecoming," Stu sighs, picking at his fingernails. I glance at him with a quirked eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"This is all so much work, y'know? Making a sign, buying flowers and candy, paying for dinner, driving around all night, whatever. And knowing Tatum, she'll probably tell me she's too tired to do anything fun after."

"You sound like such a douchebag right now," I say. "It's just chivalry."

"Oh, so you're saying you'd have all the energy, time, and funds to do this?"

"No, I'm saying that I wouldn't be actively complaining about it. If I were you, I'd just be happy to spend time with my girlfriend."

"You still do! She's coming over to your house tomorrow night, right? You're gonna watch a movie?"

I nod. 

"See? You've gotta do the bare minimum and you still get to spend time with Charlotte! Hell, you're gonna be home alone with her, too! If you really wanted, you two could go hard all night and your pops would never even know!"

Christ, why would he talk about her like that? Like she's some kind of sexual object? I try to ignore the rising frustration in my chest and calmly face him as I stop at a red light. "Sure, I'd like to take her to homecoming. I'd like to see her in a dress, I'd like to buy her flowers and dance with her, I wouldn't even mind if we didn't get that much alone time. But she told me she doesn't want to go, and that's final."

"But-"

"I'm just as happy spending my night building a fort out of blankets and pillows, popping popcorn, and watching a few scary movies with her," I say, then pause, fixing Stu with a hard stare. "Without having sex with her."

Stu stares at me right back, genuine shock on his face. "You're fucking crazy, man. The whole house to yourselves, perfect atmosphere, and you wouldn't try and fuck her?"

"Don't talk about her like that."

I make another left turn onto Main Street, passing by the shops and water fountain in the center. Stu seems to have dropped the subject, obviously getting the hint. Instead, he faces the window and watches as people mill about. A ton of teenagers are hanging around before the homecoming game tonight, getting dinner or drinks before heading to the stadium in West Haven. Woodsboro is too small to have a functioning football field with enough seats for two schools' worth of students, so we usually have to make the forty-minute drive outside of town for big games like this. 

"Holy shit, pull over!"

"What?"

"Look!"

I scan the sidewalk for whatever he's bitching about and my eyes land on a sight for sore eyes. 

"What're they doing here?" I question, slowing down the car to get a better look. Tatum and Sidney are practically dragging Charlotte into a local boutique. Charlotte looks like she's about to run away, scream, or both, but it doesn't stop the others from pushing her through the doors and out of sight. 

"I thought Charlotte wasn't going?" Stu questions, his face pressed against the glass. 

"She isn't. I'm sure Tatum roped her into shopping with them."

Even as I say it, I kind of hope I'm wrong. I didn't lie when I told Stu I was happy spending a night in with her, but I also didn't lie when I said I'd like to take her to homecoming. The mere thought of her going into the store to buy a dress and surprise me makes me smile. 

"We should join them."

"No, we shouldn't. You've got a football game to go to, remember?" 

Stu groans again and settles into his seat. "Yeah, yeah..."

We finally reach the edge of Main Street, turning onto a new road that leads straight to the wealthier side of town where Stu lives. When I was still on the football team, Stu and I would always go to his house to hype ourselves up and get ready for games, but now that it's just him, I mostly just sit there and raid his fridge while he prepares. I can't complain, though, it gives me something to do. 

"You nervous?" I ask. Stu looks slightly offended. 

"Hell no! I'm excited to destroy those losers tonight. Even if we do lose, Tatum said she'd come to see me play, so if I fuck things up, maybe she'll change her mind about the dance."

"I doubt it, Macher," I chuckle, pulling into Stu's expansive driveway and shutting off the engine. "Charlotte told me Tatum was making bets on the outcome of the game, by the way."

"What're my odds?"

"Tatum thinks you're screwed."

"... Bitch."