Chasing Charlie

Chapter Twenty-One | A Kiss

Charlie

I couldn't get his smile out of my mind as I hobbled on crutches down the hallway to Food Tech, the following Wednesday. It was so authentic, so real. You could tell by looking into his dark blue eyes, that he was truly happy at that moment. It was such a beautiful smile and it is a shame that he rarely shows it.

I had to pass the quadrangle we had roll call on to get to Food Tech, and I was shocked when I rounded the corner.

Jack was yet again, beating Chase. It didn't look as innocent as last time, it looked far worst. When I came closer, I could see the damage better and I gasped.

The anger inside of me rose as I screamed, "what the fuck are you doing to him?!"

Jack stopped for a moment and turned to look at me. "Don't scream girly, or your crush will get it worse."

My eyes widened. I looked around the small group of boys surrounding the two. Joseph stood there, looking worried.

"Jack, stop. He'll pass out and remember the last time he ended up in hospital." Joseph warned.

He stood up, spat, and turned to leave, just as the bell rang for fifth period.

Chase was on the ground, legs curled up close to his chest, blood flowing down his face. His wheelchair was nowhere in sight and not a single person was around.

I sat down on the cement, next to his body. "Chase?" I said, softly touching his shoulder.

He flinched. He didn't turn to look at me, nor did he move.

"Chase?" I tried again. No response. "Tell me where it hurts."

He still didn't turn to look at me. "It hurts Charlie," he sobbed. "It hurts everywhere."

It broke my heart to hear him this broken again. It reminded me of Sunday.

"Can you move?"

Another sob retched his body, making him shake like no tomorrow. "I wanna die. Please let me die."

He slowly turned around, so he was now lying down facing me. Tears ran down his injured face. His eye was black and his jaw was starting to swell. A few more bruises were starting to form on his face.

"Chase..." I cried.

His eyes were closed as I looked at him. He laid there for a while, not moving or opening his eyes. The bell rang again, signalling the last period before lunch. I stayed beside him, not moving away from him.

After a few minutes, he slowly sat up and opened his red, tired eyes. "It hurts so much."

I frowned. "Boys are so stupid."

He flinched again as he moved to get more comfortable. "Ow," he cried in so much pain, it broke my heart yet again.

I moved closer, and as gently as I could, I leant in and hugged him.

He cried a bit more, sobbing into my school uniform and saying muffled things. He lifted his head off after a while, my white shirt was covered in his blood and tears, while his face was swollen, bruises covering most of his skin. His hair was very messy and his eyes a sickly red.

"Crap, I'm so sorry for your shirt," he apologised.

I smiled shyly, "it's okay."

His face was so close to my own. Mere centimetres away. His eyes were staring down at my lips while he still had a few tears flowing down. His eyes, they were such a deep blue, the darkest I had ever seen them. Pure anger and hurt were showing themselves, not hiding like they had before.