rich man's world; charlie dalton

[ten] charlie turns french when he's scared

Charlie looked at the cat-clock suspiciously as it's beady eyes searched the room, he held his bucket with both hands and sighed as he heard someone move off the bed. The nurse eventually came back from talking to the office aides, she smacked her gum before grabbing the SureTemp from her desk and asking Charlie to open his mouth.

She waited for the small machine to buzz, the stick indulged itself into the bottom of Charlie's tongue. He wanted to take the stick out from his mouth but he gulped the saliva forming in the back of his throat and waited. It finally buzzed and he immediately opened his mouth.

"You're fine," she looked down at the small box while pressing the button to take off the part he had used. "Go get an ice pack."

What the hell is an ice pack supposed to do?

He stood up anyway and got one. He thought of where to put it before awkwardly putting it on his stomach and setting down the bucket on the floor.

Sigrid groaned in distaste as she moved on the uncomfortable bed in the back side of the nurse's office. He turned in her direction, the nurse was writing their referrals, "In ten minutes go back to class, for now go lay down for a little."

He walked to the back and opened the curtains of the other bed, Sigrid's curtain was open and she was staring at the roof in boredom, pensive as well and her mouth moved slightly like a murmur when she thought of what to say. Charlie left his curtains open and laid down as well. He sighed lightly before looking over at her.

He bit on his bottom lip as he watched her cheeks go pink. She didn't want to turn in his direction, she was too embarrassed to. She wiped the corner of her mouth, suddenly feeling insecure and he mirrored her movements.

After a few seconds he gave up trying to get her to look at him and turned his head to look at the roof, the room was spinning from the movement. He put the ice pack behind his head and closed his eyes, it reminded him of the wind that gave him goosebumps the night before. He smiled to himself.

"I can't believe I thought that was a good idea," he finally let out with a laugh. "I mean come on we kissed once—no twice and I went in front of everyone to tell you how much I've been fantasizing about holding your hand since the first day we met."

"Twice is a big deal, Charlie."

She looked over at him and gave a small smile, "Who knows? It could've been my first kiss."

He pursed his lips before sighing, "And that doesn't bother you? I could've stolen that from you and your first kiss should be something monumental."

"Of course it didn't bother me. It wasn't my first kiss, it wasn't your first kiss. It was...good. I'm sure you quite enjoyed it," he was acting weird and she wondered if that's how she acted toward him on the days that she didn't feel like putting her guard down. "Does it bother you? I mean...am I wrong and it was your first?"

He took out the poem that he had unknowingly shoved in his pocket when he walked himself to the nurse's office, "No," he answered shortly but his tongue jabbed the side of his cheek. Signaling her that he was lying. She sighed and sat up on the bed. He curiously watched her sudden movements before quickly sitting as well once she had made herself comfortable.

"Look, I know one moment we were at each other's shirts fighting about the name-calling and who Theresa prefers—which is still me by the way—and then the next moment I was attacking you with the wind in my face because I got scared I was going to get rid of the only thing I was sure of," she bit her bottom lip as she wanted to retract her words. "You kissed me the first time, I'm assuming, out of the pure desire too because I was just in front of you and I gave you the chance. I know that," she looked down at her hands.