Delilah
Martha is alive. I don't care what anyone else tries to say. They all think she's dead, even her parents. All I hear from people at school is "That evil bitch deserved it" and "It's her own fault for being so... her." I love her with all my heart but clearly that isn't the case for most. Whatever, they don't know her like Charlie and I do. Even though it was obvious she wanted, maybe wants, to die, I know she wouldn't give the reputation she's left behind a second glance. She isn't like that.
Charlie's always spouting shit about how he's glad that Martha's watching us now, glad we're doing everything we can to preserve her memory, glad she's in heaven. I don't know how he even deals with religion. It's all bullshit. Not like I would ever say that to him. It makes him happy so I won't take that away. Little does now. Either way, he won't even listen to why I know Martha is still out there.
Even though I love Charlie and Martha, why did he get her last words? I deserve that just as much as he did and she didn't give me so much as a parting word. It makes me angry but I can't be, not over my friend, not over what she did and didn't say, and especially not because I expect her to be nice to me after our fight. It's my fault all of it happened anyways so I guess I shouldn't be so caught up on who saw her before she left.
Charlie and I are both panting hard by the time we reach the railroad sign and I lightly knock into him. "Beat you," I huff.
"No way, I got here way before you," he counters weakly.
"Whatever, you're still paying for the bill. Only because I know you will, even if you did win. Which you didn't." I smirk and pat him on the shoulder. I jog up to the path that swerves through the dense forest and out into town again. He follows me, muttering, "Fine but you're gonna next time."
"Hey, you know you don't have to go to the party if you don't want to right?" I look up at Charlie and give him a nervous smile. He has a habit of not being able to deny me anything when it really comes down to it.
"Yeah, I know," he sighs, smiling back. "I couldn't even if I wanted to. My folks are visiting from New York and I barely get to see them."
"Ah, the hoity-toity side." I remember meeting them when I was really young and Lana, my "mother", wasn't able to watch me and she just dropped me off at Charlie's. He was very nervous around them and I could see why. All of them we're very intimidating, all judgmental eyes and confident postures. His mom's side of the family, I think.
"Shut up," he jokes. "I know they can be a little critical of others but they're really not that bad when you get to know them."
I hum in mock agreement. "I'm sure." We continue down the path in silence. I look back at Charlie, only to find him observing the forest around him with wide eyes, oblivious to my watching. He's always been amazed with nature. "What're you looking at, Chuck?"
He shushes me and stops, turning towards me. "Listen." So I do. The sounds of twigs and leaves under our foot is now diminished to a soft crunch when we shift and I can hear it. The short caw of birds, leaves rustling in the light breeze, cicadas calling to each other, animal feet skittering across the ground, fluttering of bird and insect wings alike, the quiet babbling of the river that runs through the entire forest. He looks up to the sky with wonder in his eyes. Typical Charlie, fascinated by the little things. He smiles wide at me and we continue to walk on. The sunlight filters through the tree leaves, leaving the ground dappled with bright light and soft shadows. It's beautiful but not nearly enough.
"Tell me, why do you like it here so much?"
"I don't know," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's an escape I guess. You would understand that right?"
I nod. "We can walk down to the stream if you want," I offer. "We already went where I want."
He grins and sprints down the side of the pathway in a clearly memorized route to the water. I stuff my hands in my hoodie pockets and slowly follow him, being careful not to slip and fall. I finally reach him, where he's already taken his shoes off and rolled his pant legs up, wading into the water. "Can you at least pretend you're being careful?" I ask, throwing my shoes and socks to the side, wiggling my toes in the soft beige sand.
"What? It'll be fine," he says, waving me off and gently setting himself down on the driest and tallest rock in the middle of the rushing water.
"Someday, you're going to run down a hill too fast," I caution, pointing to where his feet kicked away rocks and dirt where he skidded down the side. "Or maybe you'll jump into a river and you'll get knocked down by the current, never to be seen again."
"Please." He settles over the rock completely, laying on his back and water drops splashing lightly onto his face. "I'll be fine, I grew up in these woods." I know he doesn't mean to brag but I frown and sit onto the riverbed, relaxing back into the soft sand and staring up into the treetops. He was lucky enough to stay in one place his whole life, learning every detail and secret about the world around him. I've always had to move back and forth across the country. I'm just lucky that I've been able to stay in contact with Charlie. We always come back Sunnyvale, no matter what. Then again, I know that sometimes Charlie gets jealous of that. He wants to see the world and meet new people, see new places, learn new things, and have more ideas. Nouns are important to him. He doesn't tell me that he wishes for that but I know, I can tell. One woman's trash is another man's treasure.
He hates being jealous too, that much is obvious. He knows about my past; what's happened and the things I've been through and he just focuses on the moving part. Well, at least that's how he thinks he comes across but it's not. I know how much he cares and what he would do for me. Wanting one aspect of my life isn't hurting anyone.
"You alright, De?" I look back at Charlie to see he's propped up on his elbow on the rock, a concerned look on his face. "You look sad."
"Nah, just thinking." I stand up and roll up my own pants, my shoes already discarded to the side. I tiptoe into the freezing water, the cold a momentary relief to the almost constant blazing heat, and watch every step of the way as to not jab my toes. When I reach the rock, I hop up onto it and relax next to Charlie, laying on my stomach.
"What about?" he pushes, still concerned. He sits up and searches my face, his brows creased.
"Nothing you need to worry about, love," I joke, pushing his his hair out of his face. I've been told that we should date but there's no way in Hell that's happening. I'll admit, he's an attractive guy; smooth brown hair down to his shoulders, big gray-blue eyes, a defined jawline, and a small button nose. Adorable really, especially for much of a little nerd he is, his thin wire glasses only adding to the look. We may be close but the only thing that has ever and will ever be between us is friendship. And we're both very okay with that. He finally smiles, letting it drop. Ah yes, don't forget those perfect teeth. "Don't worry, I wasn't talking shit about you to myself," I promise
He sighs, yet again frustrated with my cursing. You would think after all these years, he would get over it. "I would hope not. This is place is too beautiful for anyone to be negative."
I snort. "That's what you think." I sit up and swing my legs over the side and turn my head around to ask, "Hey, you wanna go get some burgers now? I can drive us to Five Guys?"
"Ugh, you know I don't like that place. I can't even count how many times they've botched my order," he groans.
"Hate on them all you want, they'll still be my true love," I assert. "How about In-and-Out then? Everyone loves them."
He nods his head and gets up. "Perfect." I turn to walk away when I feel my whole back get flushed with icy water. I whip my head around to see Charlie looking into the sky, whistling nonchalantly. He looks at my innocently. "I didn't do anything." How cliche can you get?!
"Really?" I pretend to have dropped it and when I hear the splash of his feet behind me, I spin around and quickly scoop my hands into the river, throwing the water into his face. I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle my laughs at his shocked expression. His cheeks are flushed from the cold and he pushes wet hair back. "Okay, I deserved that. 100 percent. Truce?" He sticks his hand out. I check his palm for any form of slug or mud or another and when I find it clean, take it. "Truce."
We both dawn our shoes yet again and walk out of the forest, throwing clumps of dirt at each other as we do. When we get to my car, I yell, "Okay, uncle, uncle! I thought we had a truce?!"
"That was about the whole water ordeal," he points out, shrugging.
"Fine, I'll give you that but keep me decent please. I don't want to walk into one of the only two burger places I go to quite frequently covered in dirt and water like I just had sex in my backyard."
Charlie scoffs and wrinkles his nose and forehead, "Really? Can you be any more graphic."
"Yes. Want me too?" I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively and he slugs me in the shoulder, unimpressed. "Hey, I was only kidding. Damn, you really are related to those New Yorkers."
He laughs slightly at that. "No doubt about it." We start on our walk out of the forest again and skid down the slope of the tree line's end. My crappy 1988 Volvo with the chipping red paint job and worn tires sits at the end of the dirt driveway, the faux leather seats and plastic dash board no doubt baking underneath the hot sun. Ugliest damn thing I've ever owned. I jog down to it and swing open the passenger seat for Charlie, leaving it open as I walk around to the driver's side and collapse into the seat.
"You should lock your car," Charlie comments, concern crossing over into his voice. "Don't ever you worry about getting carjacked?"
I scoff, turning the key in the ignition and it sputters to a start, exhaust spitting out the tailpipe that is in no way good for the environment. "You kidding? Who would ever want this piece of junk?" He shrugs halfheartedly. I tsk, "Worry, worry, worry. I'll be glad if someone took it off my hands but for now..." I finally start driving and turn down the road, keenly aware of my gas usage. "We drive."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
We arrive at In-And-Out soon enough and receive our meals relatively quickly. We sit down to eat and I can tell that something is irking Charlie. He seems unfocused, jumpy. "Chuck?"
He jumps slightly but looks up and smiles, albeit nervously. That boy has always worn his heart upon his sleeve. "What's up?"
"It seems like something bugging you. You alright?"
He takes a huge bite of his burger and nods his head.
"Oh c'mon. Don't avoid the questions; I know somethings up," I push.
He swallows the bite and sighs, long and loud. "You'll just get mad."
"No, I won't." I reach over and slap his arm haphazardly and he shakes his head.
"I'll tell you but you half to promise not to get angry at me or anyone else." I cross my heart. "Fine. Right before Martha die- left, she gave me a letter and said that I shouldn't open it unless I really needed to, unless something happened to me or you. It had our names on it; I don't know why she gave it to me."
I stop. So not only did he get her last words, he got a gift. And I'm not even angry; I'm... sad, disappointed, ashamed. I don't want to scream and yell, like I know my normal reaction would be. I don't want to throw a fit, or hit a wall, or sprint through the forest and down the train tracks, or even drive for hours with no idea where I'm going. And crying is definitely a no-no. I haven't done that since I dislocated my shoulder and sprained my wrist in the seventh grade after getting in a fight and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I look up at Charlie and he flinches and gives an awkward smile, already prepared for the tantrum and onslaught of cursing I'm infamous for. Normally, my reputation would precede me but, "I really fucked up didn't I?"