Charles and Richard Chapter 20

Charles left Richard behind and went up to his room. As he climbed the stairs, Charles thought that he really should stop running to his room every time he got angry. Just for today, he told himself—starting tomorrow, he’d really stop. He closed the door and collapsed onto his bed, lying face down without moving.

That was it. Charles was angry. He didn’t particularly think Richard had done anything wrong. It was just Richard’s very existence that made Charles angry. Even after Richard had left, Charles couldn’t escape him. Richard appeared in his dreams and did unfamiliar things to him. During all that time Richard was gone, during those years when Charles had believed he’d never see Richard again, Charles couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been abandoned by Richard. Even though he knew it was a stupid thought.

He couldn’t help it, because just when he was about to forget, Richard would appear in his dreams. By leaving, Richard had turned Charles’s life upside down. And then one day, he suddenly showed up again and barged into Charles’s life once more. Charles thought it was unfair to be angry at Richard for the sole reason that he’d appeared in his dreams. He thought that, but his feelings didn’t match. Charles was angry. No matter when, how, or in what way Richard appeared, Charles would have been angry. He couldn’t help it.

Charles, lying face down on the bed, furious to the tips of his hair, suddenly sat up. Surely he wouldn’t leave again just because Charles was angry, would he? If he did, Charles would be even angrier. Charles sprang up and threw the door open—and there stood Richard. Holding a pizza box in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other. Charles froze in surprise, and Richard thrust the pizza box toward him. Charles didn’t even think to take it. Then Richard spoke.

R: I came back because I wanted to be friends with you.

C: ….

R: We never got to be proper friends back then.

C: ….

R: Let’s not fight this time—let’s be friends.

C: …Is that all?

R: All what?

C: The reason you came back.

R: Yeah. And this is my hometown, after all. When the time comes, you have to come back home.

Richard grinned. Charles looked up at him silently, then finally took the pizza box. He couldn’t bring himself to say that he didn’t want to be “friends.” Not friends, but… in the end, he couldn’t say it.

∞ ∞ ∞

Becoming friends with Richard turned out to be far harder than Charles had imagined. Saying “Let’s be friends from today!” and hanging out might work for some people, but Charles was certain that would never apply to him and Richard.

Two things stood as formidable obstacles to the boys’ friendship. The first obstacle: Richard was the sexiest person Charles had ever met. He was the most perfect creature on earth. Whenever Richard smiled at him, Charles felt the urge to throw something at his face. That was to keep himself from making a stupid expression, and also to keep Richard from noticing that expression. And here was where the second obstacle emerged.

It was too hard to be friends with Richard without fighting. Charles had never gotten along with Richard before. Now trying to get along—he just couldn’t do it. Especially since, every time Richard smiled, Charles kept throwing things at him—if that continued, the day they became friends would never come.

Richard was utterly bewildered by Charles’s reactions. Catching all sorts of objects flying at his face, Richard had a premonition that this relationship would never be easy (of course, as always, he realized it a step too late). Their relationship needed a little more time to settle down. The point when they finally started to get somewhat close was when Richard showed up at Charles’s school.

Richard had Wednesday afternoon off, so he decided to use the free time to visit Charles’s school. He was waiting for Charles at the back gate of the school. Shortly after the bell rang, Charles appeared on his bicycle. He definitely made eye contact with Richard. He definitely saw Richard wave. But he passed through the back gate and sped away on his bike without stopping. Richard stood there dumbfounded, then watching Charles disappear into the distance, quickly pedaled after him.

R: Chaaa—rles!

C: ….

R: Wait up!

Only then did Charles hit the brakes. Richard caught up to him, gasping for breath. Richard buried his head against the handlebars, catching his breath, and complained.

R: Hah, why, why did you go ahead, haah.

C: …Sorry. I didn’t mean to…

R: Don’t do that. Stick with me. I’ve been waiting for you this whole time.

C: ….

Hearing that, Charles’s ears turned red—and without waiting for Richard to catch his breath, he set off again. This time, he wasn’t fast. Richard, though annoyed, followed after him. In the end, Charles matched Richard’s pace, and from that day on, he stopped throwing things at Richard. Anyway, they started talking and hanging out together like proper friends.

It was the first day they hung out at the repair shop. Richard surprisingly rarely came to the house. He usually met Charles outside, and instead of automatically following him home for dinner like before, he’d suddenly disappear, saying he had to go back to his apartment. Thanks to that, the places they spent time together were mostly the repair shop, the park, and McDonald’s.

When they spent evenings at the repair shop, it was usually on days when Richard was closing up. Richard asked the owner if he could stay there after work and have dinner with Charles. The owner said it was fine as long as they didn’t make a mess. Of course, that was because the owner had worked with Charles’s mother for nearly twenty years, and had known Charles since he was a baby.

Richard suggested they build a fort using the scrap tires that Charles often climbed onto. It seemed a bit childish for eighteen-year-old boys, but honestly, Charles thought it was just as good an idea as Richard did. Construction progressed with Richard laying down tires on the floor while Charles rolled tires over to him. Richard looked down at the laid-out tires, pondering the shape, when suddenly he felt hungry.

R: Charles, what do you want to eat for dinner tonight?

C: I don’t know. Pizza?

R: Pizza? Hmm…

Richard muttered in a reluctant tone. Charles, rolling a tire over to him, suddenly realized—Richard often ordered pizza for lunch while working at the repair shop. Charles thought for a moment, then tossed out a suggestion.

C: How about we make something?

R: You know how to cook?

C: I do it sometimes when my parents are late.

R: Really? Then I’m fine with anything!

C: You… knowing you, you’d want spaghetti and meatballs.

Charles muttered absently, and as he looked up, he froze. Richard was staring at him, the tips of his ears flushed red. Then, like magic, the corners of Richard’s mouth slowly curved upward. Richard smiled the gentlest smile in the world and said—Charles felt like he couldn’t breathe.

R: You remembered.

C: ….

R: That’s sweet.

Instead of answering, Charles rolled the tire as hard as he could toward Richard. The tire struck Richard squarely in the side before he could dodge. Richard clutched his side and collapsed onto the pile of tires.

R: That hurt!

C: No, it didn’t.