“You sure have an active imagination for someone who enjoys studying ancient crap.”
“Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Archaeology is far from boring, by the way.”
“If you say so. Speaking of, how’s Wes’s dig going?”
Dahlia’s boyfriend, Wesley Kent, is a renowned treasure hunter, and by the end of the year, people everywhere will know his name. He’s currently recovering the mother lode of shipwrecks, the Flor de la Mar, it’s value being placed somewhere in the billions.
“Great,” she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice. “Let’s switch to Skype. I want to show you pictures, and I want to see your face when I tell you about it.”
We hang up, and I rummage through my things, looking for my laptop and Wi-Fi card. Once I finally get everything connected, Doll and I talk for what seems like hours as she shows me photographs of the wreckage, filling me in on all the whirlwind adventures she calls a life. I feel sort of special being in the loop as they’re keeping the discovery hush-hush to prevent pirates from trying to intervene during the recovery process.
When she tells me Wesley obtained permission to invite her, I can’t keep myself from bouncing in my chair. “That’s so freaking exciting.”
“I know,” she gushes. “You have no idea how much I want to be there to see everything up close, and to experience it with him.”
I shake my head, amazed at who my friend is becoming. Just a year ago, she was a girl hiding behind her books and clothes, and within such a short time, she’s transformed into this beautiful, amazing person who isn’t afraid to go out there and experience the world. I’m a little jealous, but more proud than anything. “I’m happy for you, Doll. Seeing you and Wes together—it’s crazy. The two of you have literally changed each other’s lives.”
“Thanks, Char. That means a lot.”
“Miss you,” I tell her, meaning it.
“You could always come back, you know.”
“Nah. I’m done with that life. I’m ready to reinvent myself.”
She tilts her head sadly. “I liked the old Charlotte just fine.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Doll, but we both know I was a shitty friend. I was never there for you.”
“Charlotte, you were busy. I understood.”
“Exactly. I was busy all the time. Think about it; this is the longest conversation we’ve had in years, and we don’t live in the same city anymore. You’ve always been a good friend, Doll. It’s who you are, and it’s why I love you. But me, I have acquaintances. Hundreds of them, but no real friends. The only person I ever devoted my time to was Miles, and look where that got me.”
“You can’t regret that relationship forever, Char. He loved you, and the two of you shared some beautiful moments.”
“What I regret is that Miles turned into a cheating scumbag who clearly forgot the meaning of I’ll love you forever.”
“Ouch.” She winces. “Point taken.”
“So are you and Gwen buddies again?” The bitterness in my voice is anything but subtle.
Tension builds in her brow. She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed as we speak, and she’s looking around like she’s trying to figure out the right words to say. “Char…I’m not gonna lie. Yes, we’re friends. But if it makes you feel better, it’s strained. It will never be the same as it was before.”
“Why would you even want to be friends with someone like her?” I sound like a whiny twelve year old, but I don’t care. She’s supposed to be on my side.
“If you remember correctly, we were all friends at one time.”
Regrettably, that’s true. From kindergarten to the end of grade school, the three of us were inseparable. Middle school broke apart our happy little threesome though. It was around that time that Gwen became a heartless, two-faced, backstabbing bottom-feeder.
“I try not to remember.”
“Well, it’s true. And I’m not trying to defend her, but you did steal Miles from her first.”
“Oh, please,” I scoff. “Miles would’ve had to belong to her in order for me to steal him.”
“But you knew how much she liked him. She told you she was planning to ask him to the seventh grade dance, remember? But you stepped in and asked him first.”
I swallow, remembering the bratty teenage version of myself. I did know Gwen liked Miles back then, and yeah, maybe going after him at the time was wrong, but I was an immature kid. Miles and I have been through so much together since then. We were planning to get married after graduation. We planned to spend our lives together. It doesn’t compare.
“I’m sorry,” Dahlia says, after a few awkward moments of silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, it’s okay. I just can’t talk about him anymore. It’s been four months. I need to let it go, let him go. That’s part of why I’m here—to figure out who I am without Miles. Everyone back home automatically links us together. When they think of me, they think of him, and vice versa. I really needed to detach from that persona.”
“I understand.”
All at once, my eyes begin to droop, fatigue hitting me hard. I look down at my suitcases, thinking I should probably unpack, but even that sounds like a challenge. “I should go,” I say, stifling a yawn.
“Okay, but let’s do this again. Soon. It was nice.”
“I agree,” I say with a smile.
As soon as we disconnect, I fall face first into the bed, not even bothering to untuck the comforter. The bed feels like heaven. Only seconds later, I’m asleep.
SIX
Max
“So who’s the girl?” Trevor asks me almost as soon as we switch on the Xbox, putting in the new Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Whenever he wants to grill me about something, he knows his best chance at getting info is while we’re playing video games. A distraction tactic.
“Her name’s Charlotte. You met her.”
“Obviously. But how do you know her?”
“Save your interviewing for the website, Trev. It won’t work on me—shoot the guy to your right.”
“What guy?”
Trevor’s player runs around, shooting chickens. I shake my controller toward the TV screen, getting more and more irritated by the second. “You’re giving away both our positions. Are you trying to get us killed?”
“Dude, I know what I’m doing. Throw your threat grenade so we can see the enemy.”
We get through two missions before Trevor brings up Charlotte again. The bastard waits until we’re in a critical moment to catch me off guard. He’s working an angle; I can feel it.
“I pay rent here too, you know. Don’t you think you should tell me why we have a new roomie?”
I glance at him from the side, raising a brow. “You don’t pay rent here.”
“Yes, I do. You know…perk of the job? My bonus for being editor in chief?”
The enemy shoots at us. I send my player diving for cover just as Trevor’s player dies. “First of all, that’s not your title, Trev. You didn’t want to work in the office, so I gave the position to Briggs. And second of all, the only reason you live here is because I happen to like my aunt and uncle. You, I tolerate, because you’re their son.”
Trevor rolls his eyes. “You’d be lost without me, Max. Who else would keep your grumpy ass company?”
I look down at my Doberman pinscher. He’s lying on his favorite rug, staring at me, tail wagging. “Batman does a good job. He doesn’t annoy me as much as you either.”
“Come on, bro. Start talking. Who is she?”
“She’s just a friend,” I snap, pissed off that we lost the mission over this. “A friend that will be staying here for a while.”
“What if I’m not okay with that? Steph might have a problem with me living with another woman, ya know.”
“She knows, and she’s fine with it. If you’re not okay, move out.”
We both know that’ll never happen. If Trevor left, he wouldn’t be able to keep tabs on me. My a
unt and uncle would freak out, and they’d probably move down to Miami, and then my sanity would go out the door.
“Whatever,” Trevor says, giving up. “I’m going to order pizza. Want one?”
I nod. Anything to get him off my back about this. “Supreme.”
He picks up his cell phone and heads to the patio, removing the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.
Trevor and Steph both think I was randomly mugged the night Charlotte found me. They don’t know I was downtown looking for Garcia. If they did, they’d be on my case more than usual. They’d never let me out of their sight. It’s already bad enough that they refuse to work at the office just so they can keep tabs on me. I know they’re just being overprotective, but sometimes they take it too far.
I look up at the stairs, wondering what Charlotte is up to. I feel bad about the way I handled her moving in and the rules I gave her to keep her away. Everything about her is screaming for help, and dammit if it doesn’t make me wish I could help her. But I can’t be the friend she needs. Life has taught me enough about what happens when you let people get close. It’s hard enough with Trev and Steph. Every damn day of my life I’m terrified of what’s waiting for them just because they refuse to give up on me.
No, she’ll need to figure this out on her own. At least she has a place to sleep at night. That much I can do, as long as it’s temporary, and as long as she keeps to herself. I owe her more than that, but it’s all I can give her without screwing up her life too.
Trevor walks in from the patio, shutting the sliding glass door behind him. He looks at me, wearing his determined-mode expression. Apparently he isn’t giving up as soon as I thought.
“Max, you know you don’t need to keep every aspect of your life a secret, right? I’m here to help. Steph’s here to help. My point is you have people.”
Great, I think, letting out a sigh. Distraction didn’t work, and now he’s moving on to the guilt trip. “Cut it out, Trev. You live with me. You work with me. And you know about my past. My life is an open book.”
He shakes his head. “There’s things you keep from me. Don’t think I don’t know.”
I run my hand through my hair, wishing I still smoked too. I could use a fucking cigarette with the way Trev is badgering me. “She helped me out a few years ago, okay? Now I’m returning the favor. That’s all.”
He scratches his beard, thoughtful. “How’d she help you out?”
“None of your business.” I point a finger at him accusingly. “And don’t bother her with a million questions, do you understand me? She’s having a rough time, and she doesn’t need you making it worse.”
“Why’s she having a hard time?”
“No,” I say, gruffly. “That’s all you get. Leave her alone, Trev. I mean it.”
“Fine,” he relents, not too happy about it. “I suppose it’s okay for her to stay.”
“Glad you feel comfortable with it.” I pick up the remote control. “Now could you try shooting the enemy instead of chickens?”
He plops down on the couch, eager to start playing. “Sure thing.”
SEVEN
Max
Dad’s gonna cry when he sees how beautiful she looks. He doesn’t cry that much. I don’t either, because we’re boys, and boys aren’t supposed to get all emotional like the way Fiona does. But Dad told me it’s okay to cry sometimes, especially when it’s important. I think today is one of those important days he was talking about.
“Well hello there, handsome,” my mom says to me, then giggles. She points down at the bottom of her dress where my sister’s head is poking out. “Fee is playing hide and seek. Do you think you can find her?”
I smile, kneeling down. Reaching underneath the huge dress, I grab my sister by her arms. She squeals, then laughs as I drag her out to tickle her sides. Her brown hair is curled and pinned up on the top of her head the way Mom’s is, but no one seems to care that it’s getting messed up.
“The two of them are precious,” I hear my aunt Tabby say to Mom from across the room.
“Yes, they are,” Mom agrees. “Will you go get the photographer? I want a picture of them.”
Aunt Tabby nods, and then quietly slips out the door. I stop tickling Fiona to stand upright. I almost forgot about the letter. I pull it from the breast pocket of my tuxedo, handing the neatly folded piece of paper to Mom.
“What’s this?” she asks, raising her brows.
“From Dad,” I answer proudly. “He told me to give it to you before the ceremony. It’s really important.”
***
It’s still dark when I wake up, like always. Just once I wish I could sleep in until after sunrise. As much as I’ve tried, my body refuses. I’d probably never sleep if it weren’t necessary for survival. My subconscious can’t take it. When dreams are replaced with nightmares, your mind doesn’t want to stay in that kind of hell all night long. These days I’m lucky to get four hours, max.
I press my fingers against my temples, trying to rub away the headache—another morning ritual. Batman’s tail wags from the foot of the bed. He sees me stirring and knows what comes next. Standing up, I reach for the watch on my nightstand to clasp it around my wrist.
“Time to run, old boy,” I tell him, and he jumps down, then spins in circles by the door. “Have a little patience, will ya?”
I tug on a white T-shirt, gym shorts, and running shoes. Then, I grab Batman’s leash as we head out the door. Before I can stop him, he darts off into the hall.
Charlotte’s there, pausing by the bathroom door. She’s fresh from a shower, stuffed inside a fluffy terrycloth robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. “Well hello there,” she whispers, leaning down to pet the top of Batman’s head. He licks her in the face. No hesitation whatsoever.
I approach the two of them, shaking my head at the dog. “Just embarrassing. You don’t even know her, and you’re already best friends. What if she was an intruder?”
She stops petting Batman, going a little tense at my voice. I hate knowing I gave off the kind of impression that would make her feel uncomfortable around me, but at the same time, I don’t want her to feel relaxed enough to be friendly either.
“Don’t take it personal,” she says, shifting her uneasy gaze on me. “They say dogs have good instincts.”
Batman sits at her feet, tail wagging. As she strokes his back, a smile pulls at her lips, but disappears just as quickly. I remember thinking how beautiful her smile was back when I first saw her at the hospital. It’s the same, just a little dimmer now than it was before.
“What’s his name?”
“Batman.”
“That’s a good name. I like that you didn’t cut his ears and tail. I never understood why people cut them. They’re so much cuter this way.”
“Cute?” I say, repulsed by the word. “Are you trying to give him a complex? Manly. Ferocious. Striking—pick a different adjective.”
She grins, and this time it spreads wider, lighting up her eyes. That’s when it hits me, that I’m trying to make her smile. I shake myself, knowing I need to stop. Boundaries are important, especially if her living here is going to work.
She readjusts the towel on her head. “I’m guessing you couldn’t sleep either?”
“I usually wake up around this time.”
“At five o’clock in the morning?” Her brows raise slightly.
“Sometimes earlier.” I shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of it. Hooking the leash to Batman’s collar, I take a few steps back. I should go before this becomes a lengthy conversation. I can’t do lengthy conversations. Not with her.
“Room workin’ out okay?” I ask, an attempt at being polite before making my exit. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yeah, of course. The bed was amazing compared to the one I used in my old sorority house.”
Great. Now I’m picturing her in her bed. Those images aren’t helping with my boundaries plan. I need to get out of here. “Good. Well, I should
get going.” I have to tug on Batman’s leash. He’s still trying to get Charlotte to pet him. “Come on, mutt, we’re going outside.” As soon as he hears the word outside, his ears perk up, and he runs ahead of me.
“See you later,” Charlotte calls out. There’s a hint of regret in her voice, almost like she doesn’t want to end the conversation. I could’ve misinterpreted that, but either way, I’m not sticking around to find out. I take the stairs two steps at a time.
As soon as we’re out the door, the cool morning air hits me, calming me down. Batman waits for me to stretch out my legs, and then we start to run. Streaks of sunlight dance along the horizon, brightening up the shoreline. This is my favorite part of the day, and I think Batman’s, too. It helps clear my head, helps me to focus on what’s important. Only one thing in my life matters anymore, and all of my thoughts revolve around it like planets revolving around the sun. Today is different though.
Today, when I look out across the ocean, I can’t stop thinking about Charlotte’s freshly showered, makeup-free face. The soft slope of her nose. The bright blue of her eyes. The almost invisible freckles dotted along her cheekbones…
What a fucking catastrophe.
This is supposed to be my time to get away from everything. It’s supposed to be my time to breathe, to think, to plan.
If one brief encounter has enough power to leave me feeling like this, then I have to find a way to avoid Charlotte altogether. Even if I have to take pains to do it. If I’m going to survive her living here, that girl needs to stay the hell out of my head.
EIGHT
Char
Everyday is the same. Send out applications. Do online coursework. Eat lunch (if I remember). Then I’ll watch chick flicks or reruns of Criminal Minds while falling asleep. I wake up again in the late afternoon, do some more stuff for school, check my emails, eat dinner (if I remember), and then proceed to fall asleep to whatever I can find on Netflix. Sometimes I go out to look for jobs, but everywhere I go, they either tell me to apply online, or they say they’re only hiring bilingual Spanish-speaking associates. Genius idea on my part, choosing to live in Miami.
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