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Meeks has managed to fix his phone again, apparently next time it gets broken it would be easily to just get a new one but the look, the look Pitts had gave him, that pitying one they sometimes give Neil between his back told him, it told him that no matter what Meeks will fix his phone.
He pulls on his dorm door and Charlie locked it. God, that dick is lucky he carries his key.
Charlie is on his bed, two empty bottles on the ground and one being drank from. It's the bottles that hadn't been drank on Saturday at his horrible birthday thing.
Charlie smirks and tips his bottle and some spills out onto his shirt. He just chuckles.
Richard steps back out of the door and closes. He slides his back down and leans his head against it. His breaths won't get back to normal.
(It's Christmas and his dad is on the couch, hands on his knees, half a dozen bottles on the coffee table and at least one broken one on the floor.
The smell, the sound of glass crushing under foot, the drop of his heart.)
"Cameron?" He snaps his eyes open and turns to Todd, stepping in the open door across from him. "Are you, are you okay?"
He nods. He is okay, after all. He is. He takes a breath and holds it.
"Are you sure? Is Charlie not, not, letting you in or, or something?" Todd asks weary but trying to make a joke. It doesn't land.
Charlie. His heart picking up forces him to let go of his breath and his lungs have to play catch up and his heart is stopping and starting and he takes a breath, closes his eyes a few seconds, and lets go.
"Charlie's fine. It's just-"
"Is Charlie alright?" Neil asks, having joined Todd in the doorway.
(Last December coming back from a hospital visit. Wanting to already wash himself ten times over to be rid of it. To get it off him. That fucking hospital smell.
Charlie. Already half a bottle of gin gone.
Moving him so he doesn't choke.
Waking to the sound of vomit and a glass clinking.
The bottle being empty in the morning and Charlie's vomit covered blazer thrown on his desk.)
"Cameron?"
"Charlie's alright."
And with that he forces himself back up. He nods at Todd and Neil and enters his room, making sure to not open it wide enough for others to see.
(His mother sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of red wine and a dustpan full of glass.
Red wine stains on the countertop from missed glasses, bottle tops and corks found in between couch cushions.
A month of missing 4th grade because he's at his grandparents in the country while his dad is in France and his mother in San Diego.
A broken train set thrown around the sitting room and new wallpaper in the hallway with a new deep red skirting board.)
He picks up the bottles and shoves them under his bed - he'll get rid of them in his free period tomorrow.
He reaches his hand out. "Charles."
"Richie." He winces.
"Charlie, give me the bottle."
"Now why the fuck would I do that, Richie?" Charlie flashes his sharp teeth.
("Richard. Richard Cameron." The yells carry through the house.
His father's study has papers scattered everywhere and framed photos from his college years.
"Richie, my dear boy, there you are."
His father's breath is rotten and the ice in his scotch rattles in the glass.
"You mustn't be like your mother."
His mother, currently in a night course because she hit a cop car while in a parking lot with two glasses of wine down her.
A picture being shown to him.
"Richie, Richie, this was your dad at his first Harvard game. We must remember to take one of you."
The glass shattering and the scotch leaving permanent marks on cheery faces wearing red.
"Richie, Your mother and me, we need you to take that photo."
The crush of glass and pouring another glass.
The trip to the store the next to buy a frame so his parents didn't have to.)
"Richard?" He blinks. Charlie is leaning forward. "Richard, are you okay?"
He grabs the bottle and tries to his hand steady. He spills some on his blazer.
"Hey, that's mine."
He drains what's left before Charlie attempts to grab it back.
It's horrible but it's one he can tolerate and they were for his birthday.
He puts the empty bottle with the rest and puts his blazer in Charlie's washing basket.
Charlie flops onto his back and starts cursing his name.
(His mother swearing she'll get better, with bloody cuts on her hand.
His father swearing it won't happen again, with hooked up to machines.
His grandparents threatening to take him in if his father didn't stop yelling.
His grandfather dying a month later from chocking on his own vomit.
His web searches being full of question like 'is alcoholism hereditary?' And 'is alcohol poisoning common?'
His chemistry textbook and hotter being open to pages that tell him how to get stains out.
His biology textbook being his source of information on how to take care of cuts from glass.)
He sits on the edge of Charlie's bed.
"For fun or because of something?"
"Because I could. It seem a shame to let the bottles go to waste."
"I would've drank them. It was my birthday after all."
"You hate alcohol."
He doesn't respond, no point in lying.
"Did I hear Neil earlier?"
"Him and Todd talked to me outside of the door."
Charlie blinks at the roof and Richard takes his hand away from where it's starting to curl in on itself.
"I didn't tell him. Either one. But Knox is going to know tomorrow."
Charlie chuckles. "He can sense it."
It's more to do with bags under his eye, hating the sun and being too happy.
He puts Charlie's hand back on the bed and pulls up the quilt Charlie has onto him.
He takes their rubbish bin over the bed, just in case, and starts to get into his pyjamas.
He ignores his rapid heart and moves through his frozen state. His eye dart frequently over to see if Charlie's chest is moving, taking it a lot longer to get undressed.
By the time he turns off the light the usual loud snores appear.
(His mother telling him she's be up in five minutes but him getting to sleep to the loud talking of her and friends downstairs.)
-
In the morning, ignoring the loud snores and bucket next to Charlie's bed, he gets dressed - tie, blazer, his whole uniform.
He then walks straight into Knox's room.
"What the hell man?!" Sticks pulls his duvet up over his presumably bare chest.
Knox rolls his eyes and turns around from doing his shirt buttons up in the wardrobe mirror. "You know I don't think you've ever enter my room without knocking."
Oh, he didn't even knock, fuck. He takes a couple steps back, knocks twice, and then steps back into the room.
"Dude, you are so fucking weird."
"And you're still in bed at," He goes to checks his watch and it's not there. It must still be his desk. "a time you should be up and dressed at." Nice save, if he does say so.
"I would if some fucking asshole didn't just enter my room." It seems as though sticks has wrapped the duvet even tighter around himself.
"I have the exact same body parts as you and funnily enough also your roommate. If you're still uncomfortable at getting check in front of other guys after several rooms at a all boys school, that's on you. Also I'm in your gym, you fucking dick." He turns back round to Knox, who's froze with his tie in hand. "I need your paracetamol and fruit punch Gatorade"
"What?"
"That red sickly juice you're fond of and paracetamol."
Knox seems to still be having trying grasping his demand as he says. "I thought you liked green."
"For the last time there's a flavour called green apple, you can't call lemon and lime green. Also it's not for me."
"Who's it for- oh." It's clicked, finally. Richard rolls his eyes as Knox opens his bottom desk drawer to get the energy juice and then the top one to get the tablets.
Knox passes them over. "Thank you."
He straightens his tie and nods. Then he turns to Sticks, who is still in bed but has let the duvet fall off his chest. "Still on for tutoring tonight?"
"Of course, dickhead."
He nods and leaves, saying "Oh, good morning." over his shoulder.
Richard leaves the tablets and juice on Charlie's bedside and grabs his watch and English textbook before leaving the room to head down for breakfast. His niceness towards Charlie only reaches a certain point.
-
At breakfast Knox tries to take him aside to ask about Charlie but he just walks straight past towards Neil and Todd. Two people that Richard knows Knox would never bring up Charlie's.. Well, Charlie's alcohol problem, in front of.
-
Charlie ends up walking in late for English, not a surprise. He's drinking from the horrible juice and is clearly acting like he's not affected by the light.
Keating buys his excuse of oversleeping though so maybe Richard is the only one that can tell Charlie's trying not close his eyes at the sun coming through the window.
Meeks turns around and raises one of his eyebrows - 'Did he actually oversleep?'. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the only one. God, being Charlie Dalton's roommate was exhausting.
"Mr Cameron," Richard darts his eyes up to Mr Keating as Meeks turns back around. "How come you didn't wake Mr Dalton earlier?"
How does Keating know they're roommates? Oh, right, he complaints constantly about it - they both do actually.
"Mr Cameron chooses to eat early and leaves me to fend for myself in the morning."
He turns to see that Charlie has a cocky grin on from his seat at the back. It gets bigger when he raises his bottle slightly and tips it toward him. There isn't a day where Richard doesn't fucking hate this guy.
He mouths 'Stop talking.'
Charlie tips his head to the side. "Stop talking? Now why would I do Mr Keating asked me a question."
He then mouths 'fuck you.'
Charlie puts his hand to his chest and gasps. "Oh, I can't say that Mr Cam-"
Richard snaps back to Mr Keating, who is leaning against his desk with an amused expression, and answers the question that was intended for him to begin with. "He has his own alarm, if he chooses not to use it, it's not fault of mine - roommate or not."
He would feel slightly bad for talking to a teacher like that but Mr Keating just lets a chuckle and some quote about not allowing other people to control you.
"However, Mr Dalton, you are in school currently so perhaps make sure your alarm works tomorrow morning."
Charlie pretends to tip an imaginary hat "Will do, Captain."
Keating goes back to talking about The Apparition and Charlie catches his eye before he turns fully back round.
'Thank you' Charlie mouths, Richard just gives a small nod and goes back to writing notes.
Something similar will happen again and He'll just have to work through and deal with it and not allow past event to merge with current ones.
-
In their study period when Meeks is distracted by Pitts he steals Meeks' English jotter out his bag.
It's not his fault if Keating droned on and on and that's why he doesn't have any good notes from his class this morning.