The Story of a Man, A Woman, and the Corpses of 1000 Evil Students

I felt like a bobblehead. Or a set of hi-hat cymbals. Or the inside of a bass drum. I was lying facedown on my couch still in my clothes from the night before with a massive migraine. Water. My first thought. I slowly sat up, a glass of water on the coffee table coming into focus. There was a small post-it stuck to it.

Drove you home last night, your truck is at Frank’s. Drink some water and I will give you a ride to his place when you’re ready.

I recognized Gerard’s scrawling handwriting immediately. My heart warmed a little at the thought that somebody cared enough to make sure I got home safely and left me a glass of water, which I promptly drained. I turned some music on and began to wash up, changing into some clean clothes and fixing my makeup. It was already one in the afternoon.

To Gerard - 1:17 PM
Wow, thanks for driving me home. I’m beat.

I felt stupid for having drunk so much the night before, but Frank just had a contagious excitement about him that had intoxicated me. Gerard texted me back almost immediately.

From Gerard - 1:18 PM
Of course. Just let me know when you want to get your truck, we’re finishing up packing.

As I was eating toast, I reflected on how I should probably ride my bike over there. After all that alcohol, I could use both the fresh air and the exercise. But fuck it, I was tired.

To Gerard - 1:20 PM
Whenever you want to take a break, just cleaning myself up

From Gerard - 1:21 PM
I’ll head over within the hour.

I was sitting on the curb outside of my apartment complex, letting the sun warm me up. A few cigarettes later, and Gerard pulled up in a black Porsche. He rolled the passenger window down.

“Chainsmoke much?” He asked with a smile. I tossed the smoldering butt into the gutter as I gave him a slow nod before climbing in the car.

“Only on Wednesdays,” I answered before he sped back off to Frank’s house.

“So, how was your night?” Gerard asked through his grin. I pushed my sunglasses further up my nose.

“How do you fucking think my night was? Don’t remember a lot of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“We missed you at breakfast this morning. Frank tried to make pancakes; keyword is tried,” he snorted.

“I was fast asleep, I think my stomach missed breakfast though,” I said as it grumbled at the thought of food.

“We have some leftovers. We’re almost completely done. We filled your truck bed all the way up, so we’ll need to dump it off first before we can do too much more.”

“No problem. I’m feeling better after having some Excedrin,” I said. He nodded, pulling up to the curb outside Frank’s house. The rest of the day was filled with more shenanigans while helping Frank move. His apartment was on the floor above mine, so fitting everything into the elevator and going continuously up and down was so much fun. Gerard and I were sitting on the last two boxes in the front yard when Frank got a call from the university about his upcoming classes.

“Thanks again for helping us out. Especially since nobody we know owns a truck,” Gerard said, blowing smoke into the air.

“No, thanks for letting me. I’ve had fun the past two days. Feels like I have friends again,” I joked, glancing over at him. He was running a hand through his hair nervously. “What’s up?”He hesitated greatly before answering me, shifting on the box so he was completely facing me. “I know this is going to sound weird, but just hear me out. I worry about you. You say depressing stuff like that a lot and I’m more than happy to let you talk to me about your problems, that’s not the point. I just wish there was something I could do for you. That’s part of the reason why I kept inviting you to breakfast and tried to get you to come over here.”

I was a bit taken aback, my cigarette paused in the air between my lips and my arm. “Oh. ‘Part’ of the reason?” I was getting stupidly hopeful. He just looked up at the heavens as if he was gaining courage from an otherworldy power.

“Yes, part. You’re a cool girl and I like hanging out with you. That was the other part. And I really don’t want you to be alone over a holiday. It makes me sad,” he said honestly, nudging the dirt in the yard with his boot toe.

“Well, thanks,” I said awkwardly. “I appreciate it. I like being around you too, now that I know you don’t hate me.” He perked up, looking at me again.

“You thought I hated you?” Gerard asked, his eyes widening.

“Are you serious? I thought you despised me! And even now, you’re probably just making sure I don’t blackmail you with the fact that you dance around in your class when students are here,” I smirked. He had to let a little chuckle escape at that.

“I thought you hated me. I really liked your art and thought you were pretty and I guess that’s it. I’m not worried you’re going to blackmail me, because you probably would have done it already,” Gerard said confidently.

“You’re right. You’re also lucky that I’m incredibly lazy.” There was a long pause in which we both said nothing. “You like my art?”“Hell yes I do. I know you might concentrate in photography but your illustration skills are damn spot on, Charlotte. Like, really.”

“Coming from you, someone who made me look beautiful sitting on a drainage pipe, that means a lot.”“But you did look beautiful.”

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, so I let my red cheeks do the talking. Gerard fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, not looking up at me after he said that.

“The drainage pipe also looked beautiful that day, so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone and draw you both,” he added hastily. I laughed, stomping on my cigarette.

“You’re funny. In a weird way I’m glad that Hawthorn left the university, as much as I loved her. You’re a very close second,” I said. Now it was his turn to laugh.

“What are you crazy kids talking about out here?” Frank interjected, walking up to us.

“Frank, I’m older than you,” Gerard stated flatly. Frank just leaned on his shoulder, ruffling his hair with his other hand.

“Check this kid out. Thinks he’s smarter than me.” Gerard shoved Frank off with a laugh. “So Charlotte, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Ah, nothing really. I’ll probably...I don’t really know. I have no idea. I can’t believe it’s tomorrow, I’ve sort of lost track of this semester,” I admitted. Frank giggled.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to hang out with me and this loser. We have a tradition of going to Denny’s when our families aren’t around.” Gerard glared at Frank.

“It’s honestly the worst tradition I’ve ever been a part of,” Gerard said. “But it’s also the best.”

“So you should really come with us,” Frank interjected. I shrugged.

“Sure. Not like I’ll be doing anything else.”

Thursday came and went like any other day, really. Frank ordered the smiley face pancakes while Gerard and I, like the respecting adults we were, just had plain short stacks. It was one of the best holidays I had had in such a long time. There were moments when tears were forming in the corners of my eyes from how hard Frank had me laughing.

Before I knew it, it was Friday evening and I was feverishly turning my closet inside out to try and find something to wear to Gerard’s gallery opening. I finally decided on a plain black maxi dress and green sweater, hiding my combat boots underneath. It was my way of adding a few inches without having to wear heels so my dress didn’t drag on the ground.

The brewery was packed. Gerard valet parked his car, which was the norm downtown, and offered me his arm as we walked inside. It was a high ceiling loft style room with light wood floors and cork walls, normally covered with drawings that coffee goers penned while sipping espresso. But now, they had some permanent installations peppered throughout the cork.

Before we had pulled up, Gerard had asked me to please not hate him when we got inside, and I was racking my mind to try and figure out why. It all became clear to me when we walked up the stairs to the loft. There was a poster sized pastel drawing of me hanging on the wall.

It was beautiful. I couldn’t even begin to believe that it was actually me. Chocolate flecks in my cerulean irises, smudged eyeliner from the previous day’s alcohol intake, a small smattering of freckles below my eyes, all topped off with my mahogany bob, curling around the bottoms of my ear lobes. I looked like I had lightning in my eyes and a secret on the tip of my tongue. I dropped Gerard’s arm as I took it all in.

“This is amazing,” I told him. His eyes were flickering in between me and the drawing, trying to gauge my reaction I presumed. He let out a deep breath.

“That’s good that you think that. I was worried you would find it creepy,” he admitted.

“Oh, well I do, but I really like it,” I said, winking at him. His cheeks turned red as he jammed his hands into his pant pockets, and I left him there as I went around the top of the loft, looking at all of his charcoal and oil pastel pieces. They were superb, and to think that he liked my art style. I was incredulous at that.

It was one of the best nights of my life. I was so glad that I had decided to stay for Thanksgiving rather than go home to my dysfunctional yet somehow still intact family. I hung off Gerard’s arm all night, my face smoldering when people asked him time and time again if we were dating. Always the same reply every time; No, we’re just friends. We even got to do a taste testing of a bunch of fancy coffees that I had never heard of before.

We were waiting outside for his car with his jacket draped around my shivering shoulders. He stood stoic next to me, arms crossed over his waistcoat. I loved how he always wore waistcoats.

“I had so much fun tonight,” I stuttered in between shakes, “thank you so much for inviting me.”

“No, thank you so much for not only coming but being the subject for too many of my pieces,” he smirked, glancing over at me under his black hair. I giggled, wondering how many other drawings he had done of me. I didn’t care if we were barely friends and if that should be creepy, because I was incredibly flattered. The crowd that was lingering outside the coffee shop was slowly dispersing, one by one, couple by couple.

I was leaning down to get into Gerard’s car, scanning the crowd, when I locked eyes with someone in there. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Strong jaw. Curls. Frowning.

Leave it to Anthony to show up and ruin my night.

Notes

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