Being Wrong | ?

Part 21

"He's been fine, though," Charlie's grandma insisted. "I mean, honestly. As fine as he's ever been. His mother spoiled him so terribly that he was hardly controllable when he was younger. We should have fought for custody of him the second he was born."

"Well, we can't change the past, unfortunately," Dr Chapman said. "So, Charlie. How has school been?"

Charlie shrugged and looked away, but Dr Chapman kept calmly watching him, waiting for a proper response. He knew why, too, because he'd read about this. People find silence uncomfortable, so they tend to fill it. He was trying to make Charlie uncomfortable so that he would open up more, which seemed like the opposite of the proper way to go about that. Now Charlie was annoyed and determined to give him nothing.

"He won't talk to me about any of that either," Charlie's grandma cut in. "His teachers say he's doing well, though. He's a smart boy. He's just... moody and uncommunicative."

"Congratulations, you have a teenager," Dr Chapman said with a smile. "With everything he's been through, the fact that he's keeping up with school and you haven't had any major incidents is about the best you can hope for."

"Yes, well. That's what I thought, but the boys..." She gave a small shrug.

"Yes, the boys," Dr Chapman said. "That's the one piece of all this that surprises me. Charlie doesn't strike me as much of a social butterfly, but he managed to get a boyfriend in just a couple of months. What am I missing here? How did this happen?"

Travis glanced at Charlie to see if he would answer, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. He shrugged. "I don't know, man. We're neighbours. We both like music. We made friends pretty quick and then later on we started dating."

"Charlie spends more time with that boy than he does at home most days," Charlie's grandpa added.

"Do you see that as a problem?" Dr Chapman asked.

"No, no," Charlie's grandpa said. "I must admit I don't get the whole... well, any of it. But I can't deny Travis has a way with him. Handles him better than we can."

"But we're his guardians," Charlie's grandma objected. "It's all well and good him having — having friends, or a boyfriend, who makes him happy. That's great! But do you know why he prefers being over there? Do you know why? Because he gets whatever he wants. What does he learn from that? He needs to grow up."

"I've practically lived on my own for a few years now, and you know that because I live next door to you." Travis' hand was gripping Charlie's more firmly now. "For a teenager, I think I have a pretty good grasp on the whole being an adult thing. And you know what? It's not all that bullshit you think it is. It's not about putting manners above your own mental health or eating shit you hate. It's about figuring out how you get through the days and then doing that as well as you can. And you know what? I'm fucking fantastic at it."

"Well," Charlie's grandma said. "If he starts swearing, I suppose we'll know who he learned that from, too."

"Charlie, do you have anything to say about all of this?" Dr Chapman asked.

Charlie did not respond. Charlie wanted to bite someone.

Charlie didn't want to be here anymore. He couldn't remember why he'd thought this was a good idea. He squeezed Travis' hand and refused to listen any more.

He wanted to go home. Not to his grandparents' house. Not even to Travis'. To a distant home that didn't exist anymore. That maybe never had. An abstract idea of home that existed only as a concept of safety and escape and complete understanding.