Progress (Progress #1)

by Amalie Silver

  Charlie gave him a warm smile and stretched out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Looking back and forth between us, Donny shook his head twice and reached for her hand. “Dude. Mom told me Charlie was a guy.”

  “Yes,” Charlie chirped. “There’s been some confusion about that tonight. I’m a female. Promise.”

  “I see that,” he huffed. “A good-looking female, to boot. It’s nice to meet you, pretty lady.” He kissed her hand and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the little brother who took all his lessons from me. “How about ditching my big brother and just coming home with me tonight?” he added, giving her a wink.

  Charlie coughed on a mouthful of beer, and I stretched my arm across the back of her chair to give him a friendly warning. There was always something about Donny that made him more dignified when he’d spout my lines. While mine did the trick most of the time, they weren’t quite as charming. He must have practiced them in the mirror until he got them right.

  A douchebag in his own right, Donny wasn’t necessarily the best-looking guy, but his wit and intelligence made up for it.

  “I was just on my way to the bar when I saw you. Do you need anything?” he asked, draping his jacket over the back of a chair at our table.

  “Nah, we’re good. Just sat down,” I said.

  “Cool. I’ll be right back.”

  Charlie looked to the back of her chair, and seeing my arm draped across it, she leaned forward and fidgeted with a napkin. “May I smoke here?”

  I pointed to the ashtray that sat in the middle of the table. “Go ahead. I’ll join you.”

  “Your brother is kind of cute,” she said, lighting her cigarette.

  I ground my teeth. “You think?”

  “Sure. He’s more my type, I think.”

  “You have a type now?”

  She laughed. “Well, if I had one, he’d probably be it.”

  I leaned in, setting my arms on the table. “How so?”

  She watched him as he stood by the bar, and tilted her head to the side. “He’s got honest eyes.”

  “You think that guy is honest? I think your extra-sensory perception is a little out of whack. That guy breaks a heart or two a week,” I said, setting my jaw.

  She rubbed her hands over her arms, shivering at my words. Her eyes found mine, but she didn’t turn her head. “Your jealousy is adorable,” she whispered, and faced me to dip her chin. “But I’m onto you, Jesse. I’m starting to read you a little better. Decoding your cryptic messages is almost dull now.”

  I stood and walked around the table and grabbed Donny’s jacket. Putting it around her shoulders, I whispered in her ear. “It’s about fucking time.” I lowered my mouth to her ear and breathed out gently. Her shoulders shuddered with the sensation, and my words tickled her skin. “Come home with me tonight, then.”

  She gasped. “Jess, I—”

  “I’m back!” Donny called, grabbing a seat at the table. “Are you cold? Uncle Al has heavier coats in the house. Do you want me to grab one?”

  She let out a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to answer my question, and I ran my thumb over the collar of Donny’s jacket, letting it brush against her neck. “This conversation isn’t over,” I whispered.

  “Did I interrupt something?” Donny said.

  “Nope!” Charlie spat, and finished the rest of her beer in one gulp.

  “Well, pretty lady knows how to drink,” Donny mumbled. “So, Charlie, where did you meet Jesse?”

  “We work at The Crimson together.”

  “Ahh! Another hostess?” he asked, but instantly regretted it. He flinched, looking up at me.

  Charlie giggled, breaking the tension at the table, and she took my cup. She raised the beer in the air and shouted, “Cheers to another hostess!”

  I closed my eyes with a smirk and listened to the room flood with music.

  Donny, Charlie, and I sat back and enjoyed the evening. One by one, most of my family came around to our table and introduced themselves to the woman who had all their curiosities piqued.

  She took it in stride, and I’d never seen her more comfortable in her skin. She never flaunted, but merely held herself up with healthy dose of self-respect that squared her shoulders. The image of Charlie burned into my memory, and if it weren’t for the constant interruptions, I wouldn’t have thought there was another person on Earth that night.

  She stole everyone’s attention, and I’d never been prouder to claim I knew someone. Feisty and on fire, Charlie made a game of her responses to my family about who she was and how I knew her. She told my uncle that she was a blind date. She told my cousins that she was my AA sponsor (my personal favorite). She told others she was my dog groomer, my dental assistant, or my wife.

  Everyone loved her.

  By the time the evening came to a close, I couldn’t say I’d had a better time at any previous Anders Fall Family Reunion. It was all due to a pretty lady in a red dress who had the soul of an angel and the heart of a saint.

  “You ready?” I asked, handing her a bottle of water.

  She hiccupped, struggling to pull Donny’s coat from her arms.

  “Keep it,” Donny said. “Give it back to Jess another time.”

  “Thank you, Donny.” She hiccupped and covered her mouth. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon.” She gave him a hug and turned to me, stumbling and grabbing my arm for balance. Rolling her eyes, she smiled. “Ready now.”

  The patio was virtually empty, and only a few straggling guests remained. Mom had left over an hour earlier.

  Charlie’s ankles wobbled while standing still, and I could only imagine what the walk back to the car would look like. I winked and crouched down.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m taking off your shoes.”

  Her sheer stockings were still flawless, clinging tightly to her skin. The fabric begged me to touch it, and I couldn’t resist running my thumb along her ankle. With her hands clutching my shoulders tightly, she stepped out of one shoe and set her foot onto the cool grass.

  Her thighs, covered by a drape of thin red material, stood at my eye-level, and I eased my dry throat with a swallow. “The other,” I whispered.

  She picked up her other foot, and I lingered a little longer that time, making sure I swept the bottom of her foot with a gentle touch. Goose bumps covered her calves and I smiled at the sight.

  I looked up at the expression on her face, and her eyes were hooded staring back at me.

  “Better?” I asked, picking up her shoes and standing to read her expression.

  “You know,” she began, “if you really wanted to see my panties tonight, you could’ve chosen a less obvious move.” She grinned.

  I glanced back down to her legs, wishing I’d stayed down there for a little longer. “Well,” I waved my hand, “I thought the ambience of the evening along with the goat cheese crostinis would’ve won you over.”

  “They’re red,” she said, giggling.

  “What?”

  “Wait, did you just say I ate goat cheese?” She covered her mouth.

  I laughed. “You ate a lot of goat cheese.” I shook my head. “What’s red?”

  She raised an eyebrow and thought about it. “They were quite delicious. I think goat cheese is my new favorite.”

  I set my hand on the small of her back and nudged my chin toward the driveway. “What’s red?”

  “My panties. You were thinking about what color my panties were. So I just told you to take the appeal and mystery away.” Hiccup.

  I stopped and her head swayed, trying to find my eyes. “Charlie. How do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t always know what you’re thinking. Just when you’re thinking really hard about something.”

  “Wait a minute. So you can actually hear my voice in your head?”

  “No,” she said, still giggling t
hrough her dizziness. “I don’t hear voices. Just feelings. I can’t explain it. But isn’t that normal? I mean, what happens when two people know each other so well that they finish each other’s sentences? Isn’t that what we’re talking about? The same wavelength?”

  “I didn’t say anything about wanting to know the color of your underwear. We weren’t even talking about your panties.”

  “But you were thinking it, right?”

  “Yes! But that isn’t normal!”

  She hiccupped again and set her head against my chest. “It’s normal for us, though. And I like our normal.”

  “How does it work? How do you feel it?”

  She stood straight and took a sip of her water. “Um. Mostly it’s just a strong feeling—an overwhelming urge to say something when it wouldn’t be something I normally would in the context of the conversation.” She scratched her head and looked down at my chest. “For example, I know you wore that green shirt under your blue one for me tonight. And you’re right.” She laughed. “I love that shirt on you.”

  My lips parted and I looked at the soft skin of her neckline. “And you just picked me to read like that? Out of everyone in the restaurant, you chose me?”

  “No. I can do it with most people on some level. But you’re the first one where I didn’t have a say in the matter.” She giggled, disguising her discomfort with our conversation. “You were screaming for someone to listen. It got so loud that it started drowning out the rest of them, until yours was the only one I could hear.”

  “I don’t think many people can do this, Red.” I frowned. “I think you’re special.”

  “’Beautiful,’ ‘special,’ and a gift of charms all in one night? What are you doing, Jess?” Hiccup. “Are you falling in love with me?” She laughed again and walked toward the car.

  The moon reflected off the lake’s surface, and I took a deep breath before I began. “What are we doing?” I said, approaching her from behind.

  She knew what I was asking, but opted to go with the obvious answer. “We got drunk at your family reunion. And now you’re bringing me home.” She opened the car door but I slammed it shut.

  “No. Come on. I don’t want to play this game anymore, Red. Tell me. Why were you so quick to forgive me today? How did I get you here without dragging you?”

  She glided her hands down her cheeks and her eyes finally settled on mine. “I was mad last week. I was.” She nodded, her eyes welling with tears and begging me not to make her say it. “I wanted you so bad, Jess,” she whispered. “I just wanted you to say the words. But you couldn’t.” Her voice wavered between exhaustion and a plea.

  “I couldn’t. Not then. I knew you were mad. But you didn’t understand that I was trapped in my own mind. I didn’t have the strength to say what you needed to hear.” I took a step closer but she stepped back.

  “I’m not mad anymore, though. It’s been almost two weeks now.”

  I took another step closer. She took another step back.

  “I didn’t mean to be such a hypocrite,” I said.

  She shook her head. “That afternoon was a lapse in judgment, I get it. You weren’t on top of your game.” Her chin quivered but she remained strong in her stance. “You have no allegiance to me, and I understand why. You made your case perfectly clear: you aren’t interested.” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can still be friends, though.”

  “Wait. What? Are we talking about the same thing here?”

  “You use women,” she said quietly. “You gave me a dozen phone numbers, Jess. The message was delivered loud and clear. If for some reason I ever ended up in your bed—it’s a long shot, I realize—you’d be using me for the same reasons you use them. And I realized I should take pride in the fact that you respect me enough to stay away. Maybe at one time I would’ve been okay with having sex with you, but the last six months have done something to me.” She smiled, but it looked more like a frown. “Because of you, I’ve changed.” She licked her lips and shivered. “I don’t have to settle for a guy like you.”

  My heart sank with her words and a quiet buzz, whiz, chirp song rang through my ears. Not that she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, but it stripped another layer away from me. I tried to take a deep breath, but my chest couldn’t feel full.

  “Oh my God, Jess. That was such an asshole thing of me to say! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean… Listen to me.” She faced me, setting her hands on my shoulders and adding to the searing pain in my gut. Her eyes sobered and her hiccups ceased. “What I meant to say is that if you and I were to…well…if our friendship progressed, I’d always be worried that you’d reject me come morning. I don’t want to ever put myself in a situation like that—especially with someone I adore as much as you. And I wouldn’t want you to have to explain yourself, because I don’t want to be that girl. What we have together is too precious for me to lose. You and I are complex enough without adding sex into the mix. It would cheapen us.” She rested her forehead against mine, and her touch was almost unbearable. “And I like us,” she whispered, smiling.

  She wasn’t wrong, though. She was painfully right. If I looked at our friendship from her perspective, I couldn’t blame her from drawing that conclusion.

  It was because of me that she was going to break my heart.

  But I couldn’t let her go. Not that night. And not without telling her how I felt.

  I cradled her cheeks in my hands. “Charlie.”

  “Wh—”

  “Hold it right there.” I ran my thumb across the small divot above her lip as she emphasized the W. “So soft,” I mumbled, smiling. “I need to tell you something.”

  Her hands began to shake and her eyes pleaded with me not to say the words, but I couldn’t stop them.

  “I think I’m—”

  “I have a date tomorrow,” she choked out, leaning away from me and breaking our contact. Tugging on her lip, she kept her head down.

  All the air leapt from my chest. “You what?” I whispered.

  She cleared her throat and looked away. “A date.” She stood straight. “So you’re going to have to give me some moral support, because I don’t know what I’m doing.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “With who? Do I know him? Why would you—?”

  “I don’t think you know him,” she cut me off. “He came into The Crimson with a group of friends on Wednesday, and we got to talking. Then he asked me.” She pushed out a ragged breath.

  I looked down, not wanting to hear her. A pang hit my side and I welcomed the pain. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  Her shoulders drooped. “It’s not like you’ve been around, Jess.”

  “So you’re just going to go out with some guy you don’t even know?”

  “His name is Ryan. And isn’t that what dates are? I may not have ever been on one before, but isn’t that what they’re supposed to be? Two strangers, one meal, a bit of conversation.”

  Please don’t do this.

  “I just want to be normal. Can’t you just me happy for me?” she pleaded.

  Part III

  Progress

  It’s not supposed to be comfortable. It’s supposed to tug, tear, pull your hair, beat you senseless, and challenge everything you know. It’s not supposed to tickle, it’s supposed to rip your guts out and serve them to you on a platter.

  That’s what progress is all about. We arrive on the other side with the knowledge of how we got there, never forgetting the struggle.

  There’s always going to be a story behind massive change.

  That’s how beauty is created.

  The trick is remembering.

  -Jesse

  Chapter One

  Charlie

  I hadn’t lied. I just wish I hadn’t said so much.

  There was a reason that alcohol and I didn’t mix well. A reminder was all I needed.

  Regardless of Jesse’s intentions with those phone numbers, they still stung when I held them in my palm. They probably
hurt just as much as my words to him the night before. I didn’t like what the phone numbers could’ve meant; maybe I didn’t want to know why he gave them to me. There was still a part of me that only saw the bad when it came to myself.

  Residual ghosts. I had a feeling it would be a while before they went away.

  He drove me home the night before, and we didn’t speak. We still hadn’t spoken. It had been fifteen hours and twenty-three minutes since we’d said a word to each other.

  A part of him lived inside of me. I didn’t care how strange it sounded. I’d borrowed his courage and his confidence until I could build up enough inside myself to go it alone. Everyone used a crutch when they needed one; mine was just more unconventional than the norm.

  It was that strength I’d pulled from inside of me when I said yes to my first date. A date that was about to happen in a few minutes.

  Exactly how I’d explained it to Jesse, Ryan had come into the restaurant the previous Wednesday with a group of friends. I hadn’t seen them immediately because I had my head buried in my journal. But when I looked around the room, our eyes met.

  And I wasn’t nervous. He wore his hair in long dreads, and he looked away shyly when he realized we’d stared at each other for a moment longer than we should have. It wasn’t until the rest of his friends left that he found the courage to walk to my booth.

  His long fingers swept his hair back, and he spoke softly. “Hi,” he’d said.

  My stomach flipped and I gave him a warm smile. “Hi,” I’d said back.

  “May I sit with you?”

  I nodded, and we talked for over an hour.

  He asked me questions, sincerely wanting to know the answers, and not poking or prodding my reasoning. He hadn’t come on too strong and there wasn’t anything threatening in his tone. Just…a nice guy. An artist, a musician, he lived with his parents—like me—and went to school full time.

  And so what about Jesse? Should I have been concerned with how he felt about it? I cared. I cared more than he would ever know. Maybe there was a part of me that wanted his jealousy, or a part of me that hoped he’d somehow stop me from going through with it.