The next day, I arrive at school on my own and don't get to homeroom until several minutes after the bell has rung. My mother was having a bad morning and I couldn't leave until I'd subdued her a little.

Charlie isn't in. Having technically been the one to throw the first punch, he suffered the worst repercussions of being suspended for a few days, although to me that just seems like a free ticket to skip school. Stan escaped suspension, being handed only three days' worth of detentions. Unsurprisingly though, he has decided to skip school altogether. No doubt, he and Charlie are getting into trouble elsewhere today.

Mrs. McDonald rattles through the morning announcements before dismissing the class.

"Noelle, can I have a word?" she calls just as I am about to leave.

"Sure," I oblige, expecting a scolding for being late. Instead, she puts on her caring guidance counsellor style voice and assures me she simply wants to review my progress and catch up on how things are going, but I can't help but think it seems a little odd as she's never shown a particular interest before.

Behold, less than two minutes into the conversation, she hits me with the real reason for our chat.

"You and Charlie appear to be very close."

"Yeah, we're good friends."

"Just friends or...?"

"Is that any of your business?" I ask, sounding ruder than I intended to.

"If it's having a negative effect on your behaviour or your welfare, then yes."

"I wasn't aware that it was."

"Well then let's make sure it remains that way. Your files from your previous school say that you've had some issues with anger management."

"What do you mean?"

"Fighting," she tells me, "You got into a couple of fights."

"And since you've read my file, you'll know that my brother had passed away just a few weeks prior, so you must understand that was a difficult time for me."

"I don't doubt that," she starts, but I cut her off.

"Then what's the problem?"

"There's no problem. I'm just wondering whether Charlie is the best person for you to associate yourself with."

"Charlie's very good to me. There's no rule on who people can and can't be friends with, is there?"

Mrs. McDonald sits silently, chewing on her lip. It doesn't take long for me to grow frustrated.

"I don't really know what you're getting at but if you're worried I'm going to start getting into fights again, there's no need. Even if I do, that's not Charlie's fault."

"I believe you," she accepts. "Look, I didn't mean to stick my nose in. You've been no trouble at all since you've been here and you're doing exceptionally well in all of your classes. I just wanted to check in because you know as well as anyone that that boy leaves a path of destruction wherever he goes. I've been told your name came up during yesterday lunchtime's mishap and I'd hate to think you're getting dragged into Charlie's mess."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I sigh, feeling depleted, "There's more to him than what you all see." I know it just makes me sound like the pathetic lovesick wannabe girlfriend, but I don't know what else to say. I'm tired of everyone looking at Charlie as the root of all evil, like he's some kind of virus that infects everything he touches. I'm my own person and I'm sensible enough to make my own decisions and not be influenced by what Charlie does.

"I don't doubt that Noelle," she says sincerely, "I'm a big believer that every young person has limitless potential. Sac High's ethos is to help everyone succeed. We want to help him, honestly. He's had countless offers of support from faculty members but if he doesn't want to help himself then our hands are tied."

She pauses, her expression grave, before continuing.

"He's running out of chances Noelle. The boy's an absolute nightmare and no one in this place seems to be able to get through to him. It doesn't take a genius to see that if he carries on like this, he's going to end up expelled."

I sigh, finding the truth impossibly difficult to digest. I'm not exactly surprised; with a track record like Charlie's, it's no wonder he's nearly out of chances. The problem is that Charlie's life is lacking stability as it is and school is probably the most stable thing he has.

I don't doubt for one second that Charlie will make a living from his music and that good grades won't necessarily benefit him. But I know that having some kind of routine benefits him.

Austin's addiction got so much worse once he left school and no longer had routine to his life. It was pretty bad even when he was at school but leaving was the nail in his coffin, I guess. He no longer had teachers sniffing around and asking questions and he no longer had to be at a certain place at a certain time. Instead he was free to shoot up on drugs whenever he wanted and almost immediately, that became what his life revolved around.

I can't watch the same thing happen to Charlie.

---

The next week seems to only confirm the cold harsh truth that Charlie is headed in the worst direction. Much to my dismay, Charlie spends his time off on a self-destructive bender. At least that's what I get told. He doesn't answer my calls and according to Stan, he bails on band practice. Instead, he enjoys the company of some quite unsavoury characters that even the rest of the band agrees are assholes, which says a lot.

Seeing the aftermath of the storm makes it feel like there's a gaping hole in my chest. Charlie eventually returns from his suspension, jittery and erratic and looking like utter shit. Everyone is concerned but no one knows what to say. Questioning him will only lead to an argument. Instead, everyone just blindly brushes it under the carpet and carries on like usual, leaving me to confront the issue on my own. Quite frankly, I'm more than a little lost for ideas. I wish I could say what happened with Austin provided me with some undefeated wisdom and a fail-safe cure, but all it taught me is that, at this point, the worst is yet to come.

---

It isn't until the end of November when things finally take a break from going downhill. Charlie rings me one day to tell me that the band has gotten through to the final round of Sacramento's Annual Battle of the Bands contest. It's held in a venue downtown, the biggest one they've ever played, and I'm ecstatic for them because the winner gets an $800 cash prize, plus twenty hours of studio time. It's exactly what they need right now and I know that it could be the thing to kick-start their career.

The gig isn't until New Year's Eve, but the guys will use almost anything as an excuse to celebrate, hence why there is a party at Adam and Harvey's that Friday, which is also the start of the Thanksgiving break. Initially, I am not so keen on going to the party, especially after what happened at the last party, but I know how excited and proud the guys all are and I want to support them.

I meet Charlie after school and he drives us back to his and for a while we just hang out and chat and everything is good, as it always is when I am with him and he is sober. It reassures me that the Charlie I know and love is still there.

At around 7:00pm, we head to Adam and Harvey's to help them set up. It's only once other people arrive that Charlie turns into the Charlie I can't stand. He and a couple of older guys and some girls I don't know go into the bathroom, presumably to get high on god knows what. When they come out, Charlie's tripping. Girls are hanging off him all night and I shouldn't be jealous because I'd rather it be them than me when Charlie's in this state. But it's been two weeks since he kissed me and I still can't forget the electrifying sensation of his lips against mine. I've craved nothing else since.

Instead of moping for the evening, I decide to show Charlie the disregard he's showing me tonight. It's not to be petty as much as for the sake of my own sanity. I chat and dance and mingle, having become rather familiar with a lot of the people in the band's social circle by this point. Coral and the clones thankfully aren't at the party, probably because they know the guys would refuse to let them in the house. Tay Anderson is present, though she isn't problematic like Coral is. She arrives with a couple of girls from our grade and then she makes her way from one group to another, fitting in with ease. I find it strange how we're both so close to Charlie but have never directly interacted, bar a polite smile when we pass in the school corridors or at social events. I don't dislike her by any means; I'm cool with her as long as she's cool with me. The point is that I don't know if she's cool with me. She and I are the only girls that Charlie seems to be really close with and I'm not sure if that would automatically put us in competition.

Once everyone has left the party, Adam demands I stay the night, or the rest of the night should I say. Not many people stay over this time: just Mason and Stan, and a couple of girls I don't know. Charlie seems to have vanished which unnerves me more than slightly. After seeing how much of a mess he was earlier, I would feel a lot more comfortable if I knew he was somewhere safe. God knows what kind of trouble he could be in. Stan tells me not to worry because Charlie's probably just with a girl, but that hardly sets my mind at ease. How do I know that whoever he's with cares enough to make sure he's okay? I try to ring him but his phone is switched off and everyone else is too drunk or too stoned to be worried.

That unfortunately means I do not end up getting much sleep at all. Seeing Charlie like that and worrying about him so much triggers flashbacks of Austin and the months he spent battling his illness. Once again, I'm plagued with that sense of longing that always finds a way to creep back in at the most inconvenient of times. Stan, struggling to sleep himself, senses I'm worrying and tries his best to reassure me. We talk for a while in hushed voices as we lay side by side in the darkness, and eventually I fall into a brief troubled sleep where my worries manifest themselves as nightmares.

At some point during the hours when normal people would be getting up, I hear the front door open and people come in whispering, although I can't decipher what's being said. It sounds like there are two of them, one of whom could be Charlie, but they go upstairs before I can be sure.

By about 10.00am, I am so consumed with worry, and I know that the feeling won't be eradicated until I check if Charlie is okay. I have to know that he is okay. Worryingly, he still hasn't replied to my texts or tried to ring me back, so I decide to check upstairs to see if it was him that came in during the night.

My heart is thundering as I walk up the stairs. My chest feels completely hollow and my brain is having trouble communicating with the rest of my body to tell it to move. It sounds stupid that I'd get so worried over this but Charlie means more to me than I can explain and I know I will not be able to cope if I lose him.

When I open the door to the bedroom, my breath hitches in my throat. Instantly, my eyes fall on Charlie who is in bed with Tay. They are both awake and semi-clothed. Charlie's got his arm around her and she leans into him, tracing the tattoos on his chest. The way he looks at her is the way he looks at me. That's when I'm struck with the thought that maybe Charlie and I are no more special than Charlie and Tay. Walking in on him having sex with someone isn't exactly a shock to the system; everyone knows he sleeps around. But walking in on this is a completely different story. This can only mean an emotional bond. They're not meaninglessly hooking up. They look like a couple.

I don't cry. I don't cry and I don't yell and I don't lose my temper. In fact, I don't allow my brain to process anything that is going on because I know, in my overtired anxious state, it will only lead to tears. The last thing I want is to get emotional in front of the pair and have them think I'm some kind of deranged lunatic. I'm not, although I'm damn well starting to feel like one.

Instead, I force a casual expression to my face and try to construct at least a semi-coherent sentence that would make some sense in this situation. My attempt fails, and I simply stare blankly, feeling stupid and dumb.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Charlie exclaims, sitting up quickly and removing his arm from around Tay. She pulls the comforter across her body and catches her lip between her teeth, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. I mentally curse.

"I-I'm sorry. I've g-gotta go," I stutter, my brain so clouded that I still can't figure out how to communicate like a normal human being. My body is frozen and the slightest movement requires more energy than I feel like I have but I force myself to pull the door shut and somehow muddle my way down the stairs, almost tripping several times.

"Noelle, wait!" Charlie cries. I look behind me and see Charlie following me down the stairs, having pulled on his jeans from last night. I stare helplessly at him, unable to even string a sentence together. I hate when I get like this. My emotions are overwhelming and I'm using all my focus on trying not to fall apart that I have none left for anything else.

I open my mouth to speak but the words don't come out so I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed.

"Charlie?" Tay calls, appearing at the top of the stairs in nothing but Charlie's shirt. Just like I wear his shirts. Charlie turns around and Tay mouths something to him that looks like 'Tell her,' but I can't be sure. Charlie just shrugs in response before grabbing my arm and tugging me into the kitchen.

As soon as the kitchen door shuts, Charlie roughly pulls me into a hug. I cling onto him tightly, my legs suddenly weak as I'm on the brink of falling apart.

"It's okay to cry," Charlie reassures and that's all it takes. All of my emotions that I was trying so hard to hold back come out all at once. I cry because of my brother. I cry because of how worried I was about Charlie. I cry because he didn't answer my calls and let me know he was okay. I cry because I've fallen so hard for him but I'm not sure my feelings are reciprocated. I cry because even if they were, Charlie clearly has things on his mind other than a relationship. I cry because I feel stupid for crying.

Charlie holds me close to his bare chest, one arm wrapped tightly around my waist for support and the other stroking my hair softly. I cry for what feels like forever and he just holds me and I appreciate that because that's all I really want right now.

"Sweetie, it's okay. I've got you," he soothes, playing with my hair because he knows that relaxes me. Like I did the first time he saw me cry, I focus on the steady beating of his heart and the comforting tone of his voice that somehow radiates feelings of security. I focus on his scent which is impossibly both intoxicating and calming at the same time. I focus on how close I am to him and how he is alive and okay and gradually my ridiculous sobs subside.

"Tell me what's wrong."

I debate telling him I'm fine, but he's not an idiot. Anyone can obviously tell I'm not and Charlie, knowing me better than anyone, won't accept that answer for a second. I have no choice but to tell him the truth.

"Everything," I admit, "I can't do this."

"Do what?" he asks, placing two fingers under my chin and forcing me to look him in the eye. Reluctantly, I look up to meet his eyes, which are laced with confusion and concern.

"Last night, you disappeared. You didn't answer my calls. I thought something had happened to you."

"Oh god," he gasps, his eyes widening with realisation, "Nothing bad happened. Tay just wanted to get away for a bit. There's a place we go down by the river so she drove us there but she had a drink and couldn't drive back. My phone died. I'm sorry."

"Charlie, you were a mess last night."

"That's probably why Tay took me out to sober me up."

"But it's not just last night. You think you're in control of this but you're not. That's what Austin said, he always said that," I ramble, becoming distressed again, "I don't want to lose you Charlie, I can't lose you."

"Noelle that's not going to happen," he assures, grabbing onto my shoulders, as if he's forcing me to listen, willing me to believe him. "I'm fine. Look at me, I'm fine."

"That's what Austin said," I whisper.

"I know," he sighs, "I know, but I swear to you, I've got this under control. I know what I'm doing and I've got this whole thing under control."

"It's not under control Charlie, you're a drug addict!" I cry. Charlie flinches, his eyes darkening as he takes a step away from me.

"Noelle I-" he begins in an aggressive tone before pausing and taking a breath, "I-I'd stop if I could, but I can't. I need a break from stuff, you know how it is."

"So it's not under control then."

"I'm fine, okay?!" he snaps, causing me to tense up. I know how hard things must be for him, I know he feels like there's no other option and I know that he feels like he needs to shoot up on drugs to get through the day but I also know he's going to wind up in the fucking mortuary if he doesn't find healthier ways to get by.

Charlie notices me tense up and his demeanour instantly becomes subdued like before. He takes me in his arms again, resting his head on top of mine.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap," he says sincerely, before lowering his voice so he's practically whispering in my ear, "It's just hard. I know it's probably doing me more harm than good but I-I feel like shit when I haven't got something in my system. I don't know what else to do, sweetie."

"There's help out there."

"What, like seeing a therapist? You know as well as I do that they talk out their asses. Treatment programmes are more than my dad earns in a year and what are they even gonna do? Nothing's gonna bring my mom back. Nothing's gonna make my brother get better. Nothing's gonna stop me from feeling how I do when I'm sober for too long."

I'm quiet. I don't know what to say because, if I'm honest, I don't know the answer. In my experience, therapy hasn't been much help at all. Treatment programmes are extortionately priced, and even if we did somehow manage to get the money together or could afford it through insurance, he'd come out and go straight back to his house with his brother and his friends and fall into his old habits.

"I'm sorry Noelle," Charlie mumbles, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head and holding onto me like his life depends on it. "I wish I could be better. I'm just struggling right now. Please stay with me. I need you. I love you."

"I love you," I sigh, realising that arguing is pointless, at least until I have a solution to offer. There's no point criticising Charlie's way of doing things when I have no better alternative. I reckon deep down, he's as scared as I am. But fear is not something either of us is comfortable talking about, so I don't want to get into it too much.

"You're coming to the show tonight, yeah?" Charlie asks, skilfully changing the subject to one far less sensitive.

"I don't know Charlie; I think I just need some time on my own. I'm really tired."

"Come on," he presses, "It's our last gig there for now. You can't miss it."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Or you're just not as strong-willed as you like to think you are?" he teases and I shoot him a warning glare.

"I'm kidding," he pacifies, holding up his hands, "You're the most strong-willed person I've ever met, to the point it's irritating."

"What can I say?" I fire back, and Charlie shakes his head, ruffling my hair.

"Let me go and get my shirt from upstairs, and then I'll walk you home, okay? You can take a nap before tonight."

"It's fine Charlie. I'll be okay getting home on my own."

"Stop," he interrupts, "You're fighting me again. Quit being stubborn and just say thank you. Having me walk you home doesn't mean you're not independent anymore." I stare at him for a moment, pouting like a spoilt child. He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.

"Thank you," I sigh, annoyed at how he somehow manages to effortlessly win every argument.

"Much better," he grins.