Chase & Charli

It's hurts to see her like this. Though she acts as if she's happy I know it's just that - an act. I know how Charli is when she's truly happy, and I haven't seen her that way since we started to drift apart.

"You know you're wrong about one thing, though," she says after a bit.

"What's that?"

Charli gazes at me with that inscrutable look again before she speaks. "You're not nerdy. You're actually pretty cute...for a little brother."

"Now you're just trying to be nice," I scoff.

"No, seriously! You have no idea how many of my girlfriends have begged me to hook you up with them. They all think you're hot."

No way. "Really?" I ask skeptically. "Why didn't you then?"

Charli shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I guess maybe I thought they weren't your type."

"I've seen some of your friends. They're definitely my type. Hommina hommina!"

It elicits a giggle from my sister when I make wavy little hourglasses in midair with my hands.

"No, not the way they look, silly-pants. The way they are. I mean...they're more like me than like you. You know...flaky and irresponsible."

"So what?" I chuckle. "Hook yo bruthah up!"

"Why?" Charli asks and gives me a sardonic grin. "So one of them can be your rebound girl? Do you really want something like that?"

I exhale with a heavy sigh and say, "No. Not really. I'm a wreck right now. I wouldn't wish me on anyone at the moment."

We both fall silent, and Charli slowly finishes the food I made her.

I speak again after a while and say, "Thanks, Charli. Talking to you really helped. I think I'm feeling good enough to go to my classes after all. Well, the ones that are left anyway."

"Okay, Chase. You know, I miss this. Talking like we used to," Charli responds in echo of my earlier thoughts. "I wish we could...I guess I wish we could be the way we used to be."

"I'd like that," I tell my sister sincerely.

* * * * * *

I stay a little late in my college's library to work on some ongoing projects, so I don't arrive home until almost 8 o'clock. Once again I'm seated in my car and feel paralyzed, but now I merely stare at my glove box. My phone is in there. I'd avoided the thing all day, simply happy to get Friday under my belt without the distraction of dealing with my own drama.

I suppose it's best to get this out of the way. I retrieve the hated little device and swipe it to life. I'm inundated with a bevy of the thing's racket, which informs me I have a slew of new texts and missed calls. No surprise there.

I ignore the voicemail. I don't want to hear Penny's voice, so I begin opening the texts instead. The first few are overly apologetic ramblings, but then they degenerate into downright begging. She seems truly penitent, and in one message implies the guy seduced her, as if she could foist the responsibility for her actions elsewhere.

That one kind of angers me.

Then it's more long-winded, apologetic verbosity. I chuckle a little as I imagine how shitty her day must have been texting me over and over and calling only to be completely ignored. Good. Serves her right.

The second to last text basically says "I guess we're over then", but the one that followed only a minute later is "Please call me, Chase. I want to work through this. I love you."

Bitch...pulling the "I love you" card.

That's just downright emotional blackmail.

The worst part is I almost call her. Instead I make a symbolic gesture by changing her name in my phone from "Penny" to "ex-gf".

Fuck it. It's Friday. I need to go get drunk so I can get out of my own head for a while. I notice Charli's car is still here. Cool. Maybe she'll be down to go get shit-faced with her baby brother. I hate drinking alone. It's so depressing.

I toss my phone back in the glove box, a sound of disgust escaping my lips. I decide the best way to give Penny the big kiss off is by not replying to any of her bullshit. She knows what classes I had today. If she'd been utterly serious she could have met me at any one of them. A woman who betrayed me in the first few months of dating isn't worth the effort.

I feel strangely liberated after coming to that realization, and my steps are lighter as I make my way inside my house. I walk through the entryway and into the huge primary living room. My sister is there, and she lounges in one of the large, leather chairs. She's curled up with a book in hand.

"Since when are you a scholar?" I chuckle. I don't recall Charli ever being an avid reader.

My sister gives me a snide smirk and replies, "What? I can't read a book without my brother making fun of me?"

"Obviously not," I grin back and walk over to sit on the arm of her chair. "What book is it?"

"Oh, just one of mom's cheesy romance novels."

"Any good?"

Charli shrugs, saying, "Meh. It's okay I guess. The writing is decent."

"Oh, cool," is all I can say.

I had no idea my sister was into those sappy novels. Then again, maybe she isn't. Maybe she's just bored off her ass, which could work to my advantage. Did I mention how I hate drinking alone?

"Well," I change the subject, "as crap as this day has been I think I'm gonna hit a bar or three and get plowed like a freeway in December. I'd love it if you'd be my drinking buddy."

"Thanks Chase," Charli replies. "Yeah, I'll go with you."

"I'm ready if you are."

Charli nods, eagerly hops up from the chair, and says, "Let's get out of here."

* * * * * *

I don't have a clue what time it is when we stumble out of the cab and back toward our house. I do know we giggle like fools the whole way. What a blast tonight has been. Charli and I drank, played pool and darts, drank some more, talked until the wee hours, drank some more, played some more pool, etc.

I can't believe I've been such a retard this past handful of years. My sister is honestly the most fun and funniest person I've ever been around. Hands down. Thinking about all that time lost with her makes me a little sad, but only a little. It's impossible to be in a bad mood around Charli.

I slur drunkenly, "That guy...ha ha ha...that guy was pretty pissed you wouldn't go home with him."

"Ewww," Charli shudders with a disgusted look on her face. "He smelled like old cheese farts. How about the woman who thought she was some kind of cougar-milf hybrid?"

"You mean the one...uh, the one who looked like her face had more tucks than a motel bed sheet? Plastic-surgery-face?"

"Yeah, her! If she hit on you any harder I would've called the cops on her for assault!"

I burst into fresh laughter as we make our way inside. Both of us jump as the heavy front door slams shut behind us.

"Fuck you door," my sister turns around, pointing at it and laughing. "I'm tired of your shit!"

"You're frucking dunk," I mutter gibberish then belch lightly. "I mean frucking trunk...uh..."

"You mean fucking drunk?" Charli finishes my thought for me.

"Yeah, that," I swing a finger toward my sister, trying to decide which of her to point at.

"Not as drunk as you, little brother. I'm a party girl!" She places her hands on her hips and stands there like a superhero or something, her chest thrust out and a big grin on her face. All that's missing is a cape flapping in the wind.

"You're pretty drunk," I chuckle.

"Let's go watch a movie and pass out on the couch," Charli suggests.

"Okay," I nod, too intoxicated to protest. Not that I want to object. A movie sounds fine.

We stumble up the stairs to the third floor, probably lucky neither of us tumble down and hurt ourselves. The entertainment room is down the hall. We enter the rather cozy area, and I turn to face my sister.

"What you wanna wa...whoa!"

I back up too far, and my legs hit the ottoman parked in front of the room's sectional. I start to pinwheel my arms, trying in vain to maintain balance, but I fall backward anyway.

"Chase!" Charli calls out and grabs my shirt to try and stop my descent.

She only succeeds in falling on top of me, and both of us hit the over-sized couch with a heavy "oof". We giggle anew at the silliness of what just happened.

"You okay, Chase?"

"I sprained my googen-heimer," I joke with a groan.

The smile disappears from my face when I see Charli gazing at me with that same inscrutable look from this morning. I suddenly become acutely aware of how warm and feminine she feels against me, her young, taut stomach and firm breasts pressing against my body. Something stirs down below, and without thinking I place my arms around her back.

Jesus dude. You might be drunk, but this is your sister! What the fuck's wrong with you?

"Chase? I..."

I feel like a small animal trapped in the headlights of my sister's penetrating stare. Why is she looking at me so intensely? I'm not sure what comes over the two of us, but before I know it we're kissing.

Not chastely like a brother and sister should, but passionately. Like lovers would. My elder sister's lips are more warm and soft that I could have possibly imagined. We kiss with wild abandon, as if what we're doing couldn't be more natural.

Somewhere in the back of my head is a voice that cries out for me to stop this madness, but I don't want to. I need this. I need the warmth and intimacy I'm feeling at this very beautiful moment. This sense of being wanted is exactly what my broken heart desires, what it cries out for.

Did I start this or did my sister? I'm not sure, but Charli is on top and in control. If she wants it to end she can end it at any point.

She doesn't stop things, so I can only believe she yearns for this feeling too. I try not to over-analyze what's happening, but I can't help being convinced both of us are desperate for something we can only find in the other.

I've always loved Charli as a sister, but I'm now realizing she's the one person I've ever trusted to never hurt me. Does she feel the same about me? Is that why this feels so right despite it being so wrong?

We continue to make out and touch one anothers' faces with gentle caresses. My hands travel down to Charli's tight little butt, and I massage away to my heart's content, nary a peep of protest from my sister as she wiggles lightly against me. She murmurs and practically purrs in my mouth as we begin French-kissing.

At some point we roll over, and I'm on top now. This time my sister grabs and squeezes at my butt. I prop myself on one elbow as we keep making out, and I bring a hand up to the softness of one of her breasts to toy with it through her t-shirt and bra. In spite of my drunken state I'm almost painfully hard, and I have no doubt she can feel it pressing against her, even through the barrier of our jeans.

Both of us touch, caress, kiss, and massage each other for a long and breathtaking time in ways that are probably best a brother and sister not indulge in. I don't take it any further than that, though. This feeling of closeness is enough for me. The happiness it brings eases my pain.

Our clothes stay on, and we don't cross any lines we won't be able to come back from.

Eventually the two of us tire out, our alcohol-laden brains rebelling against our desire to stay awake. Our kisses and gentle touches slow. In unspoken consent we get comfortable and simply cuddle. I remember Charli pressing tightly against me as we fall asleep together within the soft embrace of the couch.

My last thought before sleep claims me is how warm and safe I feel with my sister lying against me.

I'm not sure if it's a dream or if it really happens, but at some point in the night I think I wake up. There's a slight movement against my body. I look down in a kind of trance. I see and feel my sister still lying next to me, but she has a hand down her unzipped jeans, her fingers moving slowly beneath her panties. She gives out these cute and sexy, quietly panting little squeaks.

Is my sister masturbating while holding me?

She shudders and exhales softly through her nose into my chest, her eyes squeezed shut. A hungry little whine vibrates against her closed lips, then she relaxes and seems to fall back asleep. I pass out again.

CHAPTER 2: The World After

I'm dreaming that a bird is pecking at my shoulder. The bird is persistent and wants something from me.

Go away, turd bird.

I wake up with a groan and blink at the bright light that flares irritatingly against my eyes. The pecking bird is replaced by the poking finger of Liz, our maid.

"Mister Chase?" she's repeating over and over in her heavy Spanish accent. "Mister Chase?"

She steps back as I sit up. I briefly wonder what she's doing in my room. Then last night comes back in a rush of memory. I recall I'm in the upstairs entertainment room, and my sister had fallen asleep next to me, cuddled tight.

I can't breath for a moment, and my heart lurches in my chest at the thought of Liz catching us in such a compromising situation. I exhale in relief as my bleary mind realizes Charli is nowhere to be seen.

"Are you alright, mister Chase?"

Liz's voice doesn't seem disturbed, only laced with concern. Thank god. My sister must have gotten up and left before Liz arrived for the day.

"Hangover," I grumble at the throbbing in my temples and the nausea in the pit of my stomach.

I look up, and even with my head hurting the way it is I can't help but let my eyes roam Liz's body for a moment. I was just a teenage boy when she started working for my family five years ago, and boy oh boy did I have the biggest crush on her. I thought she was smoking hot back then, but now Liz has that mature beauty that comes upon a woman in her early thirties.

She always dresses like she knows she's attractive and isn't afraid to show it off a little. Nothing overtly slutty, mind you, but Liz dresses for the body she has. As usual she's wearing a pair of close-fitting jeans that highlight her wide, curvy hips, and a form-flattering t-shirt that lies tight against her generous bosom, accentuating the womanly swell of her chest.

Liz knows I'm checking her out. I know Liz knows I'm checking her out. A corner of her mouth quirks lightly to let me know that she knows that I know that she knows, and as usual she takes it all as the compliment it's meant to be.

She smiles.

I smile.

"This is the last room I have to clean for the day, mister Chase," she informs me. "Maybe you should go rest in your bed?"

"Crap...really?" I mutter. "What time is it?"

"It's around one o'clock, mister Chase."

I exhale in semi-disgusted disbelief. I've practically slept my entire Saturday away. Okay, maybe not the whole thing, but a good chunk of it. I wonder where my sister went. We should talk about last night.

I ask, "Have you seen Charli around today?"

"No," Liz shakes her head. "I suppose she could be in her room. I don't clean in there today, so I don't know."

"Okay. Thanks Liz."

I groan as I stand up, waving away Liz's hand offered in help.

"I'm fine," I assure her. "Hey, Liz?"

"Yes, mister Chase?"

"You know I've come to see you like a part of this family, right?"

"Am I the crazy aunt who snoops through your things while she's pretending to clean your room?"

My eyes widen a touch, but then Liz tosses me a wink to let me know she's joking. I chuckle, my head throbbing anew. I moan lightly at the pulsing in my skull.

"Sorry, mister Chase. I should know not to joke around with somebody who has a hangover."

"It's okay, Liz. Look, I know you've got your husband and your daughter...you've got a family of your own, but I see you kind of like a part of my family too. More like my crazy cousin, though. You're way too young and pretty to be my aunt."

An irrepressible grin spreads over her face. "Oh, you make me blush, mister Chase."

I lean in and ask in a low tone, "Have you ever seen my aunt?" I give Liz a fake shudder and continue, "Trust me...you'd rather be my cousin." She laughs lightly as I lean back. "You're probably wondering why I'm saying any of this."

"A little bit," she acknowledges.

"Can I ask you something a touch personal?"

"I suppose so. We are cousins after all," she answers with a wry smile.

I sigh and ask, "Have you ever kissed someone you knew you shouldn't?"

"Yes. Yes I have," she nods.

"What happened afterward?"

Liz shrugs. "I married him and gave him the most beautiful daughter in the whole world," Liz reveals.

Definitely not the answer I was expecting.

* * * * * *

I walk downstairs to the second floor and approach Charli's closed door. With a light knock I rap my knuckles against the wood.

"Charli?" I call out lightly. "You awake?"

There's no answer. I hate to disturb my sister if she's resting, but there's this overriding desire in me to talk with her about last night. I've got so many conflicting emotions swirling around my head right now, and she's literally the only person I can talk to about it.

I knock a little harder and say her name a little louder. Still no answer. I hate to invade my sister's privacy, but this is important. I crack open her door first and call her name loudly, expecting a response. I'm greeted by silence. I open the door slowly only to reveal Charli isn't in her room.

Maybe she's somewhere else in the house. I wander the place, checking all of the communal areas, but she's nowhere to be found. Did my sister leave? Was she that freaked out by what happened between us that she had to get out of here?

I walk outside, and sure enough her car is gone.

Well, dammit. I guess I'll call her. I remember my phone is in my car's glove box, so I walk over and climb in my vehicle to retrieve it. As I swipe the little device to life, I think on how poor a substitute talking on the phone will be versus a face-to-face conversation.

I'm a little surprised when I find there's a video message from my sister waiting to be opened. I climb fully inside my car, close the door, and hit the play button on my phone's screen.

I see Charli's smiling face, but at the same time she looks so...sad.

"Hi baby brother," she begins. "I'm sorry I'm not there to talk to you in person. I just..."

My sister trails off with a heavy, emotion-laden sigh. She looks down for a moment, as if trying to collect chaotic thoughts that flit around her mind like manic butterflies. Lifting her head she continues, her eyes looking more liquid than usual...as if she were fighting back tears.

"You're the best brother a girl could hope for. I know I'm an irresponsible twit, but you've always been kind to me. Even when we sort of grew apart over the last few years I always felt if I needed you you'd come running to help me...with anything...if I asked."

There's a long pause, and Charli looks away, blinking rapidly. She sets the phone down, but the audio is still there. I can hear her softly crying.

I berate myself. Shit...what have I done? My sister's quiet sobs slowly abate, and she eventually picks her phone back up to gaze into it again with red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. Just when it felt like we were becoming friends again I go and fuck it all up. I'm sorry, Chase. I'm sorry I dragged you into my fucked-up head. I shouldn't have done what I did last night."

Does that mean it was my sister who initiated things? I honestly can't remember because in my own memory it seems like it was more of a mutual deed.

"You deserve better than that. You deserve better than..."

Charli sighs with a shuddering breath and leaves that last sentence unfinished, though I can read between the lines. I'm certain her last word would have been "me" had she completed the thought.

"I need to go away for a while...and be alone...to think. Get some shit straight. I'm not sure when I'll be back..."

Her voice tapers off, and I can practically hear her unspoken but implied words..."or if I'll be back at all".

"No matter what...just remember I love you, little brother."