Thin Line- Charlie Dalton Love Story

Chapter 12: Drunk and Dumber

Our bodies lay on the Queen bed in the master bedroom, drenching the sheets with our wet clothes and hair. I was on the right side of the bed, he was on the left. Still completely drunk. Although now we weren't happy and fun drunk, we were calm and contemplating life drunk. But the vomiting phase was over now. I hope. I had no idea what time it was. What I did know, was that it was my turn to ask him a question.

"Do you find me annoying?" I asked .

I don't even recall how we got to this point. We didn't agree on playing this game. It all started with Charlie asking if I smoke, to which I replied no. Then I asked him if he wanted a beer, he said yes. Now here we are, a couple beers later asking each other stupid questions that we're not even curious about. Hold on, where did we even get beer from?

"Yeah." Charlie replied simply and took another sip of his beer.

"What is it that's so annoying about me?" I asked, peeling my eyes away from the ceiling to look directly at him.

"It's my turn." He took another sip. "Do you hate me?"

"Yeah, I do." I answered.

Now he looked at me. Not a confused look because he already knew the answer, but an interested look. Once he realized that I was looking at him too, he quickly averted his eyes back on the ceiling.

"Why?" He asked, although the answer was obvious.

"It's my turn." I pulled my body up so I could rest my head against the headboard, "Are you a virgin?"

This one I was actually curious about. I know Charlie is famous amongst girls but I always had the slightest idea that he was never actually doing anything with them.

He raised his eyebrows at me, smirked, and said, "No." His eyes still on me he asked, "Are you a virgin?"

"No."

Dalton, surprised , looked at me as if I was lying.

It's true. I wasn't a virgin.

"It was summer before 11th grade, it lasted like a minute with a guy I met at this volunteering job. I don't know if a minute counts as sex though." I exhaled.

Charlie laughed wildly at this. He was laughing so hard that beer spilled out his nose. Not a pretty picture. I looked at him incredulously, wishing he would stop laughing.

"What was yours like then? If mine is so funny." I snapped.

He laughed for a couple more minutes before he answered, "It was a couple days after summer break had started, I was 14. My father had invited these people over for dinner, they had a daughter that was about 16 or 17. When our parents were too busy talking about business, we snuck into the wine cellar and did it there."

I laughed painfully hard. "Oh my God. Are you sure it wasn't a family reunion?"

"It wasn't" He replied suddenly.

"How is that better than mine?" I said, still laughing.

"Well. I lasted three minutes more than your first." He said, laughing just as hard as I was.

I held on to Dalton's shoulder because my head was flailing about as I was laughing so hard. My other hand was holding desperately on to my stomach, which was now hurting so much. We were convulsed in laughter and shaking in hysterics. We stayed dissolved like that for a good 10 minutes.

After 10 minutes, we finally calmed down, but would still giggle every so often. My hand was still on his shoulder. Charlie realized this fact. He was grinning and his eyes lay on mine. He traced my face with his eyes as my eyes traced his. Finally, Charlie's eyes took refuge between my lips and my eyes, changing alternately. My head, subconsciously, leaned in. Before I realized it Charlie did the same. I can feel his breath on my face, so warm. I can smell his cologne, so sweet, so inviting. Our foreheads touched. And slowly, slowly Charlie, overcome by the power of alcohol, closed his eyes, leaned in even closer and pressed his lips against mine.