by Angel Lawson
“I heard Charlie say he’s going down to Fresno tomorrow. He’s got some tournament down there.”
“His father’s letting him go?” I’m surprised.
He laughs and pushes my drink and a bag of cream puffs across the counter. “I’m not sure he asked.”
The timer buzzes in the kitchen and it’s a reminder he needs to get the baked goods out of the oven, and I need to get out of here before Sierra sees me.
“You better get that,” I say, taking a step back.
“See you later, Star.”
“Bye, Jake.”
I turn and feel his blue eyes on me as I leave the shop, the buzzer going crazy in the background. We’ve got to figure out a way to see each other more often, because being apart? I think it’s making us even more likely to get in trouble.
28
Charlie
The holiday peace lasts exactly two days. We managed Christmas day with civility; George cooking a pretty good dinner, topped with a pie Dexter gave us the night before. Dad ate two pieces and didn’t comment on the game George gave me—or when we played it until 3 a.m. Things even continued smoothly the following day, so when George got called up to help at the resort on the twenty-seventh, I felt good telling him about the tournament that afternoon. Confident, even.
My instincts were disastrously wrong.
“No,” he says, when I bring it up over breakfast.
“Why not? I qualified and there’s scholarship money in it and even if I don’t get first place, I’ll secure a spot for the next competition that has an even bigger cash prize.”
“Charlie, you know how I feel about these games. It’s a waste of time. I was nice about it yesterday because it was a day off for all of us, but you’ve got to work this afternoon. There’s no time for this.”
“I got Sandra to cover for me.” I’d worked it all out. The girl that works the morning shift was happy for some extra hours. “It’s just the afternoon. It’s not a big deal.”
He rests his fork on his plate, the eggs and bacon swirling with grease. A chill washes over me. I’ve seen that look before—back when we were kids, and normally directed at my brother. “It’s a waste of time. You’re smart, skilled, and no college wants a kid who spends half his day addicted to a fucking game in their scholarship program.”
“God, you’re so obtuse,” I say, balling my fists with anger. “You have no clue how colleges work now, but why would you? You never went.”
His jaw works and I’m pushing him. Why am I pushing him? “Because your mother got knocked up, that’s why, and I had to get a job to take care of you and your brother. Sorry responsibility got in my way. But that’s what you don’t understand, right, Charlie? Responsibility. Life’s just a big game. Clamp on those headphones and block out reality.”
Bringing this up isn’t new. It’s his favorite story about how he sacrificed so much for me and George. It’s bullshit, of course. He blames our mother for getting pregnant, but he wasn’t smart enough to wear a condom. Dumbass. But the other part of his comment hits the nail on the head. That is why I started gaming. To block out him and George’s fights. The nonstop insults and yelling. “I’m done with this,” I say, grabbing my phone and coat. “When it’s time for me to go to school, I’ll have the money I need. I won’t have to rely on you for anything. Pretty much like now.”
“Charlie, if you walk out that door, don’t even think of coming back.”
“What? You want to kick me out? Good, maybe they’ll send me back to Sierra and I can get on with my life.”
“You’re not going to that woman’s house. When I call the police, they’ll lock you up for running away—at best, you’ll get stuck in a group home. At worst? Juvie.” It’s a random threat. As if this is better than any of that. He has no idea how insufferable he can be and there’s no way in hell he calls the police. They’ll just as likely charge him for being an unfit parent. He’s the one that started this whole thing up again.
I storm out the door and pull my phone out of my pocket. I can’t call George, he’s an hour away at the recycling facility. Dexter? Jake? God no, the last thing I need is for Sierra to get involved. She may call Mrs. Delange. I scroll through the numbers and land on Starlee’s. It was new and I’d only sent her a few texts, worried it would get us all in trouble. If anyone would support me in this, it would be her.
I press the button and call.
29
Starlee
I’m in the process of scrubbing my toilet when the phone rings. Leelee decided to take Tom to visit her brother up in Lake Tahoe. She’d asked me to join, but being in close quarters with the octogenarian love birds is a little much. I figured they both could use a little break, anyway. I stayed back and got the bug to do a little post-Christmas cleaning.
“Hello,” I say, pressing the speaker.
“Hey Starlee, it’s Charlie.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me pause. “Hi. What’s going on?”
“Things…” He searches for words.
“Charlie? Are you okay?”
“Can you come pick me up?”
“At your house? What’s wrong?”
He lets out a rattling sigh. “My dad and I got in a fight about the tournament today. He’s being completely unreasonable. I need a ride to Fresno.”
“Fresno?” That’s a long way and although Leelee’s car is here, I’m not sure she’d approve of me taking it that far away. “Where’s George?”
“He’s working off-site all day. I can’t bother him with this. Starlee, I really need your help.”
I knew Charlie had been looking forward to this tournament for months and that he needs the scholarship money. That’s not what gets me to agree. It’s the fact he’s asked for help. Charlie is quiet and tough. He doesn’t like showing weakness.
I walk to my bedroom and pull a clean outfit out and toss it on the bed. “Where are you?”
“I’m walking from the resort to town. I need to get away from him before things get worse.”
Worse?
“Text me when you get somewhere safe. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Thanks, Star,” he says. I hear the relief in his voice.
Hurriedly, I clean up the bathroom and change before scribbling a note for my grandmother. She won’t get back until late—I may even beat her back. I don’t tell her the whole truth, just that I’m going shopping with Claire and that I’ll fill the tank with gas.
The drive doesn’t take long. The roads are virtually empty, being so close to the holidays. The trip is familiar now and as I get closer to town I see signs and banners hanging from street lamps promoting the Woolly Drop on New Year’s Eve.
Charlie texts me his location—the Waffle Shop—and he’s already waiting outside when I pull into the lot. He looks exhausted. Behind his glasses, his eyes are haunted and sad. He gets in the car and leans over the console, immediately giving me a kiss. His lips are cold but I warm them with mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, rattled by the kiss. It’s forward and not like him.
“I will be,” he says before pulling up the directions. “It’s at the university student center. Something they set up with one of the gaming companies.”
“I’ve never been there.” I pull back out in the street. “If Leelee finds out I’m driving this far, maybe I can tell her I’m on a college visit.”
His eyebrow raises. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing. She’s in Lake Tahoe. I left a note. A vague note.” A note full of lies, really, and the more time that passes, I don’t like how that feels sitting on my stomach.
Charlie is quiet on the ride down and I want to ask him more about the fight with his dad. It seems like more than just him saying no to him going. There’s a hollowness in him. Hurt in his soulful brown eyes, but he’s closed himself off and I don’t think he wants me to reach him.
Nothing’s particularly easy to get to in this part of the state. Between
the Sierras and the national parks, the roadways are limited. The drive takes a while but as time and the miles pass, Charlie seems to calm down some, his hand resting on my leg as though it’s giving him peace.
Growing up in North Carolina, it’s hard not to live near a University. Several are situated in the area I grew up in and even with the change of landscape the feel becomes evident as we get closer. Fresno is the biggest city I’ve visited in months and just being close to civilization is overwhelming.
“Is it weird that I’m not used to this anymore?”
“What?” he asks, squeezing my knee.
“All the people and lights and buildings.”
“You’re a small-town girl now, Starlee.” He laughs and squeezes my knee. “Through-and-through.”
I suppose he’s right.
School isn’t in session but the parking lot is crowded—and it’s not surprising the overwhelming number of people pouring in from the parking lot are guys of all ages. Some are younger than Charlie, others older. As I park the car near the student center I ask, “So how did you get into this tournament?”
“Anyone can sign up and pay a fee. Others are invited. I got an invitation by earning a spot in a competition online. I think it’s mostly a recruitment tool used by the university to get prospective students up here.”
There are large banners hanging from the building announcing the tournament. Sponsor names including the university, the game makers and other corporations (junk food, soda and energy drinks) have their logos all over. There’s a charged energy in the air and the worried boy with tense shoulders that rode down here with me vanishes. It’s clear he’s in his element.
I’ve never seen Charlie in his element.
While he signs in I look around, taking it all in. There’s a large room off the lobby with long tables stretching across the room. Computer monitors sit on top with an array of other items, each covered in a logo. Headphones, keyboards, and colorful mouse pads. There’s a number on each chair and each computer. A bottle of water. At the front of the room there’s a decorated stage and a huge screen with a graphic spinning across the surface. Loud music pours out of the speakers, clearly hoping to get everyone amped up. It’s working.
I feel a hand on my back and turn, finding Charlie next to me. He has a bag with the tournament logo on it filled with samples and promotions. His eyes are wide as he takes everything in—he looks boyish and happy. Something I haven’t seen in a long time—if ever.
“Ten minutes to start time,” voice calls out over the speakers. A huge clock counts down in the corner of the screen.
“You ready for this?” I ask, feeling a sense of pride. This boy is fighting for his dreams and no one will get in his way. It’s pretty sexy.
“Yep,” he says turning to face me. He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly. “Thank you for making this happen today.”
“Hey, I just stole a car. You did the hard work.” I kiss him again. “Good luck. Bring home the big money.”
His cocky smile says he plans on doing just that.
30
George
I’m filthy when I get home from work. We spent the day hauling recycling and garbage out to the dump, taking three truckloads back and forth from the resort. I guess the management decided to have a post-holiday clean out, but I don’t mind. I’m happy to get out of the apartment and earn some money.
I’m beat when I climb the steps to our apartment and the only thing I want to do is take a shower, eat leftover pie, and go to bed.
The front door is unlocked and I assume Dad is home. Charlie made it clear he was going to the tournament today despite the fact he’d avoiding telling Dad about it. I understood why. Things had been chill for the last few days and neither of us wanted to rock the boat. We both knew that dad could turn on a dime and it just wasn’t worth setting him off.
I braced myself before walking in, wondering how pissed dad was when he told him. Hopefully he’d had time to calm down. I kick off my boots before I step inside and immediately recognize pissed is clearly an understatement.
“Dad?” I call trying to comprehend the mess. Being tidy is one of my dad’s “things.” Right now, the whole place looks like a bomb went off. It’s an absolute shit-storm of our belongings. The couch is overturned and when he doesn’t reply, I get nervous. Did we get robbed?
I carefully step over pots and pans, papers, and the shredded cords of one of Charlie’s gaming consoles. The TV is still on the stand but has a long crack across the screen. Paper crinkles under my foot and I look down, recognizing the gray design. A sense of dread fills my stomach as I bend down and pick it up. It’s a drawing. My drawing of Starlee’s profile—or what’s left of it.
A shadow crosses the bedroom door and I look up. The look of anger in his eyes makes my own rage turn cold. Dad doesn’t acknowledge me, he just holds up handfuls of my work. “Are you kidding with this? Art school?”
He’s in a bad place. I can tell. We’ve been here before but I’m not a scrawny kid anymore. I step over an overturned plant and grab the artwork, twisting it out of his hands. Watercolors, pastels, pen and ink. Hours destroyed. I stare at my ruined, torn work. “What did you do?”
“Your brother walked out of here today to go pursue his foolish ambition. I figured you maybe had something similar up your sleeve. I wasn’t wrong. I found your applications and all this under your bed. Both of you, wasting your time on stupid dreams instead of buckling down and facing reality. There’s no out from here. Hard work is the only way to survive. Sacrifice.”
“We’re not you,” I say through clenched teeth. “We’re not living your life.”
“Why? Because you think you can charm your way into schools with good looks and a smile? That may work on your teachers but it won’t in the long run. Art school?” He scoffs. “How is that going to pay the rent? For food?”
“I’m not willing to let my life pass me by like you did.”
He snatches the picture of Starlee out of my hand—he’s close enough now that I smell it. The booze. “This girl tells me you are. All it takes is one time—one stupid time and your life is ruined. Your ambition and dreams go out the fucking window for a girl and two exhausting babies.”
“Leave Starlee out of it, she has nothing to do with anything.”
“No? You think I don’t know that’s who picked up your brother today? That he’s probably screwing her right now instead of being up at the job like he’s supposed to be? The whole tournament thing is probably just a cover. Is it a cover?”
“You’re drunk.”
He waves his hand at me. “Nah. I’m just realizing that neither of you appreciate a goddamn thing I’ve done for you.”
There’s a dangerous sneer in his voice and I know I need to get out of here, but I can’t without checking my room. I push past him, going into my room, hopeful there’s something left of my work to salvage, but he grabs my arm as I pass, yanking me back in the living room. A vein throbs on his neck and I shrug away, trying to make some space.
“I’ll be back when you sober up,” I tell him.
“Just like I told your brother, you walk out of here, I’m calling the police.”
“Go ahead!” I shout. “Call. Let them see what you did here. How you’re violating your custody. I should call Mrs. Delange myself.”
Something in him snaps and he swings. I block the punch but that only enrages him further and he lunges at me with full force. I stop him, gripping both his arms and pushing him back. “I’m not a kid anymore,” I warn him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He breathes heavy but seems to reconsider and I leave, rattled at the venom pouring off my father. How lost he seems, and determined to drag me and my brother down the same path. I hear his footsteps behind me and I turn, this time too late, not having enough time to duck. Glass shatters against my temple and a boot kicks against my hip. I stumble forward, crashing into the kitchen table. When I look up at my father, it’s through t
he haze of red blood pouring down my face.
“Get the hell out of here,” he mumbles, leaning against the wall. I take my chance and go, grabbing a flannel off the back of the floor and holding it against my head. I knew he’d fail, that his demons would rise again, I’d just hoped this time I’d get the upper hand.
31
Starlee
Hours later, Charlie sits in the passenger seat, holding a trophy, a certificate, and an oversized check in his hands. The smile on his face is worth everything we went through today. Charlie needed a win—an actual win—and I’m glad I could show him my unconditional support. Sometimes that means more than anything else.
“How mad is your dad going to be?” I ask as we enter the town limits for Mammoth Lake.
“Hopefully he’s calmed down. If not?” He gazes out the window. “I’ll deal with it.”
The upcoming light turns yellow and I slow, easing to a stop. I don’t want to drop Charlie off. Today has been amazing. Just getting to spend time with him without sneaking around or prying eyes. He squeezes my hand and is face is red from the glow of the stoplight.
“I’m really proud of you,” I say.
He doesn’t reply, just leans over the center console of the car and runs his hand into my hair, pulling me forward for a kiss. The first one is soft but the second parts my lips, his tongue sweeping inside. There’s something different—confidence, I think. I touch his cheek and—
A horn blares behind us. The light’s green.
“Sorry!” I shout to no one in particular, knowing the person behind us can’t hear me. Charlie laughs and brings my hand to his mouth, kissing my palm.
“Turn here,” he says a moment later, and I veer into the driveway to the resort. It’s dark out and although there is lighting, it’s few and far between since we’re out in nature. It’s one of the things I’ve had to get used to out here. There’s so much space. “The road to our apartment is up here on the left.”