At first I thought about climbing the tree to his window, but then figured it was a bad idea. The branch didn't even look sturdy enough to hold a cat, let alone myself. I let out a sigh. "To hell with it," I said as I walked up to the front door. I lifted up the welcome mat, and sure enough, there was a key. Now why couldn't a ladder be just as easy to find? I stuck the key into the key hole and turned slowly. I felt a soft click through the key and turned the knob. Please don't let anybody be awake, please don't let anybody be awake, I begged. I held my breath and opened the door trying not to make the slightest sound. I made sure to close the door just as softly. I tiptoed in through the kitchen, passed the dining room and headed straight upstairs to Charlie's room. The next set of events happened in a flash. It sort of went like this: me not finding Charlie in his room, not under his bed, not around the house, me going back to his room, him jumping out of the closet and grabbing me from the back, me elbowing him straight under his stomach, to currently me sitting on his bed watching him squirm around in pain.
"What the hell was that for?!" He yelled.
"You scared the living crap out of me!" I yelled back.
"You didn't have to hit me in the balls!"
"So if you were someone else, you would want me to just do nothing while you tried to kill me?!"
"Huh?!"
"God, Charlie! What in the world were you thinking?!" I started, "you know how frustrating it was trying to look for you?! How did you even know I was here?!" He was quiet for a moment.
He sat up in the corner of his room holding on to his beat up chest and all. "I saw you walking down the block and decided to call you when you walked past my house," he began to tell his side of the story "but then I saw you coming back, so I quickly ran outside and hid the ladder and decided to watch what you would do if you couldn't find it."
Hearing this irked me. "What the hell, Charlie, I almost had a heart attack! I thought you were a burglar!"
He was about to say something, but quickly looked confused as he changed his mind, “So you were the one in MY house, in the middle of the ni-"
I suddenly knew where he was getting at so I said “Shut up,” to cut him off and tell him, “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go on a little late night adventure or something, but forget it.”
"Aw, I’m sorry," he made this cute puppy dog face, which he did every time he sensed that I was upset with him, including his little lip quiver. And he could easily tell this time by my frowning. He got up and tried to give me a hug. "Come, give papa some sugar," he said as he approached me. I pushed him away, but all he did was keep trying to get a hold of me until I wrapped myself around in his blanket and sat on the floor. And right then and there he picked me up, blanket and all, and carried me from his room, through the kitchen, passed the dining room, and out the front door.



"You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees or the stars; you have a right to be here." That's what a sign by the highway read. And it reminded me of something Charlie would always tell me. Whenever I was upset, he would tell me how much I meant to the world and how important I was. I didn't really understand it then but now, I was truly grateful for having him by my side; an encouragement everyone so desperately needs in their lives. I smiled as I looked over at him, he was seriously the best.
I couldn't tell just how late it was by looking at the sky, but I knew it wasn't too late because it always got a little brighter around six, five at the least. Charlie and I were on the highway, driving to Hale beach. It was just his car and a few others, but none going our way. Like who would be going to the beach at 4:21 in the morning, other than a pair of hooligans like us. When we finally got there, I flew out of the car. I sprinted across the beach and stood as close to the water as I possibly could without it carrying me away. The sand beneath my feet glittered in the moonlight. Gone were the bright specks of umbrellas that dotted the seashore during the day. Gone were the sand castles and buckets and children playing happily along the shore. I felt pleasantly calm. I didn't even know when he came, but Charlie had crept up behind me and splashed me with the freezing water, scaring the soul out of me. And before I knew it, we were having a splash fest. After we were both soaking wet, we sat around trying to build a sand castle, which didn't work out too well. I had gotten up to brush off my sandy pants when I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes. "Oh. My. God. Look." I said as I pointed to my far right.
"What is it?" He asked.
"I spy a park over yonder," I replied as we both shot each other a look and, "last one there's a rotten egg!" We both shouted as we ran as fast we could. I knew I had the lead because I was standing up, but Charlie caught up in no time. My heart pounded to the beat of my feet. I knew he was trying his best to beat me, but I was going to overcome; this time, I was. This was kind of like a ritual of ours. If we both wanted to go to the same place, we would shout that same rotten egg thing and run for our lives. Usually he beat me, but recently, he knew I was taking track so he was really trying. I could almost feel the sweat he was releasing from his body. The delicious rush of wind gave me a thrill. The cool night air cleared my head. I felt my chest caving in, but my body was moving lightning fast. After about what felt like a few minutes, I saw the park, now closer than ever. I cheesed and gave Charlie the finger as I left him in the dust. When I finally caught my breath, and felt my heart starting to beat at a steady pace, I watched as he tripped over nothing. I giggled as he tumbled like one of those big, bouncy exercise balls. He was practically rolling over to me. And now, he was crawling; even worse than a baby. He was like a few feet away from me at this point, panting as he tried to speak. "Oh god," he was gasping for air, "oh god, make it stop."
I pulled out the mini water bottle I had brought with me. "Oh you want this?"
He looked at the bottle like it was the love of his life. Like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever laid his eyes on. Like it was a brand new color. He reached for it and I pulled away.
"But who was the one that said I would never beat him? Who said track was only for losers?"
He seriously looked like he was about to cry. "No- stop- wait- I'm- sor- water- wat-", panting as he tried to say each word. He looked like he had just crawled out of a desert.
"You make SpongeBob look like a pro when he shriveled up from the surplus of air." By this time he could barely utter a word, so I decided to finally hand him the bottle. He grabbed it lightning fast and finished it within a second. "I'm such a gangster," I said as I smiled. He was still sitting on the ground. "Because I wasn't ready," he replied, and I started laughing really hard. And then he did too. "Hey, I didn't choose the thug life, my mom picked it out for me," I said and sat down on a swing. He joined in, a minute later, and pushed me.
"Charlie, when are you the happiest?" I asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"Like when do you feel jubilant?"
"Oh, what fancy word play you got there."
"Seriously. Like when are you the most happiest?" I asked again.
"I'm happiest when I'm being myself," he answered, "and I'm myself when I'm with you."