by Lily Foster
“None of that is between you and me, do you understand?”
“Since when?”
I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Since I said so.” She nods, her mood lighter. “Let’s get out of here. I feel like I’ve got you on borrowed time.”
“Where to?”
“One of my brother’s friends works at a go-kart place in Rumson. You up for that?”
“I’ve never tried it before, but yeah, sure.”
“How do you have a license already anyway? I was wondering that the other day.”
“My father got that waiver for me…To drive back and forth to work.”
“But you drive everywhere and at all times of day.”
She’s smiling when she nods and says, “Yup.”
“Friends in high places.” I say it without thinking. “Sorry, didn’t mean anything by that.”
“It’s all right,” she says, but it’s not. I know she’s trying to change the subject when she asks, “This guy is a friend of Timmy’s?”
“No, my brother Mike. You wouldn’t know him. He’s been living up in Chicago for the past two years.”
“Oh, so you’ll be near him this fall. That’s nice.”
“You know about Northwestern?”
Her look is shy. “I asked Mr. Vargas where you were going.”
I want this girl thinking about me, asking about me. It’s selfish and self-centered, but it fills me with satisfaction. “I was surprised to see you in his office that day. It’s a little early for you to be thinking about college, isn’t it?”
“No.” She eyes me as if I’ve sprouted horns. “Weren’t you thinking about it and planning when you were a sophomore?”
“I was, but I needed to be. You just seem…I don’t know, maybe like you’re worrying about things you don’t need to be worried about.”
“You think I’ve got it easy. You’ve made that very clear, Simon.” When I go to speak, she cuts me off. “I’ve already been told I’m going to the local community college and that I’ll work for my father while I’m taking classes. If I really dig in, I’m sure I can convince him to let me continue on, get my degree in teaching or nursing or something else he deems appropriate for a girl.”
“What do you want?”
Her eyes are sorrowful. “I want to get away from here.” Cracking a half-hearted smile, she says, “Enough with the heavy. This is supposed to be a first date, right?”
Hell yes, it’s a date. For some reason, the thought fills me with joy and pride. “It’s my first first date,” I confess.
“Mine too.”
“So tell me something I don’t know about you, Charlotte. Something weird that no one else knows. First thing that comes to your mind.”
“I like circus peanuts.”
She’s laughing and I love the sound of it.
“What the hell is a circus peanut?”
“They’re those cheap candies they sell in dollar stores. They’re pinkish and chewy and they taste like—”
“Peanuts?” I offer.
“No, they taste nothing like peanuts! They taste like an orange creamsicle.”
I’m watching her, kind of dumbstruck because she’s so pretty, especially when she’s laughing. For some reason it feels crushing. I’m in my head, asking myself why that is, so I don’t even take a moment to think when she asks for something personal from me in return.
“My brother Mike is gay. He hasn’t told any of us yet, but we all know.”
Charlotte busts out in a fit of giggles. “Wow, my circus peanut confession seems totally lame in comparison to that. I’ll dig deeper next time.”
“Please do.” I’m laughing now too. “I don’t even know where that came from, but whatever, now you know.”
“Now I know,” she says, smiling as she gives my knee a squeeze.
“Good to know you’re not a homophobe like the majority of people in this town.”
“Maybe you’re making assumptions. You thought you had me figured out, didn’t you?”
“I always knew there was more to you, just didn’t want to admit it.”
She breathes in slow and deep, her chest rising in time. I turn away because I really don’t want to be that guy. But damn, it’s hard not to stare at her, take everything in, get my fill.
“We’re here,” she says, stating the obvious as I park the car. “You think you can take me?”
“I mean, I don’t think it’s a foregone conclusion. I’m assuming you’ve been driving since you were fourteen or fifteen, so you’ll give me some competition.”
“Some competition, huh? Just so you know, the first time I got behind the wheel I was twelve.”
“Noted.” I grab her hand as we make our way to the booth. It feels natural to hold her hand.
“You sure we’re good?” I question Andrew when we get to the front of the line.
He nods and then says, “Don’t, Simon,” shooing me with his hand when I reach for my wallet. “It’s been a while, right? How’s our boy Mike doing?”
“He’s good. I’ll be staying with him when I head up there in August.”
“You tell him I said hello, all right?” It’s difficult to see the hurt look in his eyes. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. When I nod, he shifts his gaze to Charlotte and winks. “And who’s this?”
“Down boy.” I’m fucking with Andrew, acutely aware that he’s still one hundred percent into my brother. “This is Charlotte…Charlotte Mason.”
He’s good, barely raising an eyebrow when I say her full name. “Andrew,” is all he says, extending his hand as he studies her.
The kind smile she gives Andrew makes it seem like she’s somehow figured out the whole backstory, the whole tragic mess. And the look he returns says he’s grateful, which makes no sense whatsoever. I’m sure it’s all in my head, nothing more than another person falling under this beautiful girl’s spell.
We fly around the track dozens of times, and it’s good. This is stupid and fun, where it’s usually heavy between us. She crashes into the hay bales trying to beat me, and I nearly flip a couple of times, because damn, she’s competitive and reckless in her pursuit of winning.
“I’m giving you the win, Mason.”
“Giving me nothing…I won.”
She reaches over and swipes a finger across my chin, then tastes the wayward cheese from my chilidog. Just her touching me casually like this has me sucking in a breath. Every smile, every brush of skin against skin affects me. Jesus, the girl sneezed before and I found myself thinking she was freaking adorable.
Pushing her half-eaten burger towards me, she adds, “You’re a decent driver, though. I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks, I think.” The overhead lights come on and I look around to see it’s getting more crowded. I was only able to get us in here free of charge during the off-peak hours, when Andrew’s manager isn’t around. “Do you need to get back soon? Library is probably closed by now.”
She drags a fry through a blob of ketchup. “I almost laughed before when you said something about borrowed time. I basically never have to be home.”
“No curfew?”
“No curfew, no supervision, no nada.”
The way she says it, I suspect the hurt is deep. “It’s just you, Christian and your dad at home? No other brothers or sisters?”
“It’s me and Christian, with my father making an appearance here and there.” She thinks on something for a moment and then tilts her head. “Maybe I’m being a baby about the whole thing.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m old enough not to need him around, and I’m used to it. And I can’t stand his girlfriend, so I should be happy that he doesn’t bring her to the house.”
“He has a girlfriend?”
I hold back from adding the word already onto that sentence, but she takes it as if I did anyway.
“He’s gone through several girlfriends since my mother got sick. This one’s been in the picture for
two or three years now.”
“Wow.”
“It’s so embarrassing, Simon. I mean, she’s practically the same age as my brother.”
“Think they’ll get married?”
“I hope I’m long gone by the time that happens.”
“What does your brother think about it?”
“I wouldn’t know. Christian and I…We’re not close. I don’t think we ever were, not even before my mother got sick.”
“That’s gotta be weird then, with just the two of you in the house.”
“Beyond weird, I guess. But to me it’s just the way it is. He acts like it’s his house. He throws parties every weekend, has girls coming and going. I basically feel like an uninvited guest in my own home.”
“That’s shitty. I’m sorry about that.”
“That’s part of the reason I’m so happy to have a job to go to on the weekends. Being able to stash away money is the main reason, though.”
“Do you have any idea where you’d like to go to college?”
“Someplace near the coast would be nice. We went to visit my grandparents in Florida when I was around six years old. I don’t really remember it but I look at the pictures sometimes. It’s just this feeling I have, that I’m meant to be near the sand and the ocean.”
“I’ve never been to the ocean.”
“Can you swim?”
“To save myself, yeah, but not smooth like Michael Phelps or anything. Can you?”
“I took lessons when I was younger. My mother was raised in Florida, so learning to swim was an absolute necessity in her eyes.”
“So if I start floundering around in the river this summer, you’ll save me?”
“Absolutely.”
We take our leftovers to the trash. We’re heading towards the car but I don’t want to take her home just yet. “Ice cream?”
“I’m good. We can just take a drive or something. Like I said, I only have to get home at a reasonable hour so I’m not dying when my alarm clock goes off for work tomorrow morning.”
“Hmm, this no supervision thing might work to my advantage.”
“Right,” she drawls with an eye roll.
She leans back against her passenger door with her body turned towards me as I drive, no different than if she was lounging on a couch. “You’ve got your seatbelt on, right?”
“Yes, Dad, and the door’s locked.”
“Man, never guessed you’d be such a smart mouth.”
“I’m usually not. Maybe you just bring out my inner sassy chick.”
I pull into an overlook parking lot on the outskirts of town. It’s on the way home, of course, because I can’t be driving around aimlessly, wasting gas. I immediately second guess the decision, though. It’s dark out here and secluded.
“Is this all right?” She doesn’t answer right away. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, just, you know, with everything that happened last week.”
“I’m all right.”
I shake my head, doubting her. “Are you?”
“In this moment, right now, I’m fine.” She looks down into her lap. “I feel safer with you than with anyone else.”
My voice is hoarse with emotion when I tell her how good that makes me feel. It’s quiet between us for a minute or two. I don’t know what’s running through her mind, but I’m kind of overwhelmed in a good way, just amazed, I guess, by how good I feel. Being around her, talking about my life to someone who seems to get it, listening to her in return—I'm happy.
I go to turn the ignition off but hesitate. “Want me to leave the air conditioning on?”
“You had it on?”
Her smile eases whatever’s heavy in the air between us, and I’m grateful for it.
“Don’t even say it…I know in this junker it probably feels more like someone’s blowing warm air in your face than air conditioning.”
“I love this truck, it’s a classic.”
“I actually like being the only guy in the county who has to roll his windows down manually.”
“Like I said, classic.” She’s twisting a lock of hair around her finger, distracting me when she says, “We don’t need AC tonight, and anyway, running it while you’re idling drains the battery and wastes gas. No need for that.”
“Is that so?” I need to get a little closer, suddenly grateful this rust bucket has old school, single bench style seating. “Guess you know a lot about cars?”
“I know nothing!” She squeals when I pull her close to me. “I can’t change a flat tire.” A flush is crawling across her collarbone and up her neck. “Or change the oil.” She licks her lips and lowers her voice to a whisper. “I don’t even know where the antifreeze fluid goes.”
Leaning in, I whisper back, “Then I’m going to teach you everything.”
I’m committed to moving at a slow pace, but she takes matters into her own hands. I suspect she wants to prove to me that she is, in fact, doing fine. She’s in my lap, legs astride mine, and it’s all I can do to keep my hands from deviating from the path I’ve made, slowly running them up and down along her sides from hips to ribs. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, overcome with how much I want her, want to be anywhere she is.
“You don’t have to say that,” she whispers.
I pull back an inch, studying her. “I know I don’t. I said it because it’s what I feel when I look at you.” Raising her chin, I kiss her once and then tell her again, “Charlotte, you’re beautiful.” Her uncertain smile cracks me wide open, physically hurts me. I pull back some more. “Hey, do you think I’m attractive?”
“What?” She’s stalling.
“Do you think I’m handsome, good looking, easy on the eyes, guapo?”
“Ugh!” She leans back, both hands braced on my shoulders. “You know you are!” Shaking her head and frowning, she adds, “You know every girl in the school would kill to be with you.”
“I seriously doubt that, but I don’t care about them…I want to know how you see me.”
Her eyes soften. “I think you’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“I’m gonna have to agree with you.” I trap her wrists in my hands as she goes to beat on my chest, her effort weak as her body shakes with laughter.
“Are you seriously that conceited?”
“No, I’m just proving a point.” I draw her hands up to my mouth, inhaling her scent before I place a kiss on the inside of each wrist. “You told me you like what you see and I believe you. I need you to believe me when I tell you what I feel and what I see when I look at you.”
She nods. “I’ll try.”
“Do you really not see what I see? Hell, every guy I know thinks you’re hot. It’s not like it’s even something that’s up for debate.”
“Stop,” she pleads, cringing.
“No,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. “I can’t look away. Do you understand?”
She moves to slide in closer, but I shift her hips back before taking her face in my hands and bringing her lips back to meet mine. This, where we are right now, this will be enough. I’m leaving in less than three months, and I’m not taking this so far that we’ll both be worse off for it after.
We head back towards home a few minutes later, her hand in mine as I drive. And it’s good, it’s easy with her. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to talk or to listen the way I do when I’m with Charlotte. She wants to know everything: my favorite bands, whether or not I like working at the hardware store, what my mother’s maiden name is. She’s full of questions, and for the first time in my life, I want to answer.
“Where exactly do you live.”
“Not far from Tyler. We’re on Dutch Lane.”
“And we refers to?”
“It’s just me and my mom at home.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrows. “And when you leave?”
“She has a boyfriend, Henry. He’s a nice guy. And she’d never leave this place anyway…Not while Timmy’s still here.”
“He has three years left…No chance of early parole.” When she drops her gaze, I look over and lift her chin. “That’s not on you, ok?”
“Can’t help it, I feel guilt by association. But I want you to be able to talk to me about Timmy, about your family, about all of it.”
“I hate that he’s in there. The place is an absolute shithole and the system sucks. Sometimes I just need to put it out of my mind. Other times I use it to push me, to reach for things that I hope one day can help him, help my family.”
“You want to be a lawyer.” It’s not stated as a question.
I turn the ignition off when I pull into the spot next to hers. Charlotte’s car is the only one left in the library’s lot. “I’m majoring in economics because I think it will give me the broadest education and best preparation for the LSATs. My plan is to take summer classes and winter break credits also. I plan to finish my undergrad in three years, then on to law school.”
“You’ve got it all figured out.”
“I guess Freud would say I crave security and stability?”
She pinches her thumb and forefinger close. “Maybe just a little.”
“Do you know what you want to do?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re a talented dancer. Ever thought about making a career out of it?”
She tilts her head in the most adorable way. “I enjoy dancing but I don’t see a future in it.”
“I do.”
“My mother was a theater major. I’m not about to hang my hopes on a dream.” I understand that I have no place sticking my two cents in when she adds, “I need a degree that will allow me stand on my own two feet.”
“I get that, I do.”
We’re quiet for a bit, but it’s a comfortable silence.
“Chocolate chip or blueberry tomorrow?”
I lift her hand up and kiss the back of it, grateful for her caring nature. “I’m not working tomorrow. I’m visiting Tim with my mother.”
“Oh,” she says, looking down at the hand I just kissed.
“I’ve been picking up some shifts after school lately too, trying to save more. Normally I’d never give up a weekend shift, but my mother wanted to squeeze in an extra visit this month and I don’t like her going there alone.”