The Last Time I Saw Her

by Alexandra Harrington

  “I’m okay. Sean was home. He heard me scream. But Nick was right there and I tried to get away but…,” she trailed off. She had never shown anyone what she was about to show Max. She pulled up the hem of her T-shirt, revealing a jagged scar above her hip. A grim reminder of last year. It had hurt when Nick struck bone, but his carelessness had saved her life.

  “I think he just meant to scare me but it got out of hand. Nick stabbed me when I tried to run,” she blurted out quicker than she had intended, and realized after that it was the first time she had ever said it aloud. Max immediately released her.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Charlotte explained, letting her shirt fall back down. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to downplay one of the most traumatic experiences of her life but she felt weirdly embarrassed. Exposed. “I’m lucky Nick’s an idiot.”

  “But you—you never told us….” Max kept reaching toward her but then retracting, like he wanted to comfort her but didn’t want to make her uneasy.

  “Sean went ballistic,” she continued. “He told me to pack my things and I was on my way to school in Windsor. So that’s the story. I wasn’t…pregnant, and I’m not undercover for the CIA, and I didn’t run off with some guy.” She laughed bitterly. “I just had to go. And I never said goodbye because I couldn’t. The last time I saw Sophie was…us falling asleep in her bed after an episode of Vampire Diaries. And that was it.”

  “You should’ve told someone,” Max insisted quietly. “If you had told someone what you saw, there would’ve been no way in hell you’d have been walking home alone that night.”

  “Who was I going to tell, you or Sophie?” Really, she told herself, that was what she’d been the most nervous about. If Nick knew that she was still talking to her friends while she was away, he might think she’d told them what happened, which would put them at risk too. It was better to cultivate a mystery—to disappear in the middle of the night and have no one left with any information. Sophie hating her, in front of everyone, cleared Sophie of any connection to what happened. Charlotte fumbled to explain. “I couldn’t let…I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if either of you had gotten hurt.”

  “Yeah, and how are we supposed to forgive ourselves now that you’ve gotten hurt?”

  She paused for a moment. “It wasn’t your responsibility. It was my mess.”

  “Go to the police,” Max said.

  Charlotte shook her head. “Nick and Sean were the only ones there. I can’t risk it. Nothing is worth Sean ending up in prison.”

  “Then tell Sophie. She’d understand—”

  Charlotte cut him off. “Sophie has enough going on,” And Max didn’t even know the whole story—not about the baby Sophie lost. For a split second she wanted to tell him, but she checked herself. Not her story to tell. “Besides, whatever the reason I left, it’s still not an excuse.” She didn’t need Max to tell her what he thought would be the best way out of her own misery. Charlotte shook her head. “And the fewer people who know, the better. I didn’t want anyone to know about this. I don’t want Nick to go after anyone else. If no one else knows…then it’s just done.”

  Max didn’t say anything. Charlotte filled the moments by twisting the cap of a shampoo bottle sitting on the arm of the tub next to her. She couldn’t believe she’d told him. When she came home, she had sworn she would never tell anyone. Technically she’d never even told Sean. Oh, so what Charlotte? she scolded herself. The person she’d ended up confiding her darkest secret in was a sarcastic know-it-all whom she’d spent the majority of last few days planning the best way to have shipped off to Peru.

  Max pulled her from those thoughts when he touched a dab of cream to her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, “I didn’t know.”

  Charlotte shivered as the wind picked up outside and rattled through the house. It was dark and it was cold. And it was too late to hate him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “No, but I’m sorry about the other day. About what I said.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “I shouldn’t have said I hated you.”

  “Why, because it’s true? Or because it isn’t?”

  His thumb accidentally grazed the mark on her cheek and he avoided answering. “How’s your head?”

  “Spinning,” she admitted, though it wasn’t entirely because of being knocked down. She’d been knocked down plenty of times before.

  “I’m glad you aren’t dead,” he said without looking at her.

  A laugh burst past Charlotte’s lips—a genuine one—and the sensation felt foreign. It had been a while since she’d really laughed. And even longer since she’d felt like someone would lament her death.

  The realization knocked her over the back of the head all over again. She was having trouble connecting the Max who was Sophie’s boyfriend—who was loud and charming and filled up a room, and whom Sophie had never told what happened—to the Max sitting in front of her. Charlotte wasn’t sure Sophie should have kept him in the dark, but looking at him now she saw no other option. It would just be another thing for Max to add to the list of things he blamed himself for. And maybe just another thing that would have driven him and Sophie apart. She wondered then if holding back the truth was ever for the better, if it was to protect the people you loved.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said, stretching to his feet. He still wouldn’t look at her.

  “Thanks for…well, you know.” She’d have to check the Quik Mart to see if they had thank-you cards for situations like this (“Roses are red, violets are blue, shout-out to you for saving me from being stabbed again”).

  “Are you okay to be alone?” Max asked.

  She squirmed past him into the hall. “I’m gonna have to be,” she said, nodding to Sean’s empty bedroom.

  Max was watching her carefully. “I can stay until you fall asleep. If you want.”

  Charlotte paused in the doorway to her bedroom. Her heart twinged a bit at his offer—she knew he meant to comfort her, and deep down that was how he made her feel, but embarrassment flared in her stomach. “You don’t have to do that. Really,” she said, because she felt like that was the right thing to say. Like she was weak, a burden, if she admitted she needed help. Was that a girl thing?

  Max did a weird sort of half-dance a few steps down the hall toward the living room. “I’ll just…be on the couch. For a bit. Really. If you need anything…you shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Max—”

  “Just until you fall asleep,” he said again, and she watched him disappear into the other room.

  twelve

  december

  nineteen months earlier

  “Do you like the silver or gold?”

  Charlotte lifted her eyes from the box she was rooting through. “I already told you gold twice. I don’t think you care, Soph.”

  Sophie twisted her face like that offended her. She weighed a loop of garland in either hand, holding them against the pine tree.

  “I like the silver,” Sophie decided.

  “Hallelujah.” Charlotte flipped the flaps of the box shut. “Can we put stuff on the tree yet?”

  “Yes, jeeze.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “You got somewhere else to be?”

  Charlotte ignored her and draped the rejected gold tinsel around her shoulders like a boa.

  “You and Sean still coming tonight?” Sophie continued as she hoisted a box of ornaments from the floor to rest on her hip.

  “Yup.” Charlotte nodded. “I’m getting him out of the house. And you know how Sean loves those animated felt Christmas movies. You want a ride over?”

  “Yes, please. You know how I love Sean.” Sophie winked at Charlotte, because flirting with Sean was one of Sophie’s favourite pastimes—and one of her favourite ways to annoy Charlotte. Sophie fished an ornament out of the box that looked like a potato covere
d with feathers and sequins and held it out to her questioningly.

  Charlotte didn’t have a chance to respond before a cool breeze blew through the living room when the front door opened.

  Max stepped in, a flurry of snowflakes and cold.

  “It’s freezing,” he bit out, sliding his shoulders free of his coat.

  “What took so long?” Sophie pranced over and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  Max scoffed as he pulled away. “Sorry it took so long to get you two gas station coffee and Doritos. It’s blizzarding.”

  “That’s why you’re my favourite of all my boyfriends,” Sophie sang, sweeter than usual. “Where is it?”

  Max blinked a few times, apparently expecting more gratitude. He lifted a plastic bag and coffee tray onto the dining room table. “You’re welcome.”

  Sophie peeked under the coffee lids. “Mine is…?”

  Max wandered over to the Christmas tree, where Charlotte stood. “Mine has milk, Charlie’s has whipped cream, as per her demands.”

  Charlotte threaded an ornament hook through a delicate gold ball. Sophie drank her coffee black.

  “I appreciate it,” Charlotte told him.

  “You put whipped cream on everything. Grow up. It cost extra, by the way.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “I doubt Leo even charged you for any of this.”

  “Getting coffee for my girlfriend is one thing, Charlie, but I don’t even like you.”

  “Whatever happened to the season of giving?”

  “I like your boa,” he said with a laugh, tugging at the end of the tinsel near her elbow.

  “He’s right, Charlie,” Sophie said as she handed Charlotte her drink. “It’s coffee. It doesn’t need whipped cream.”

  “Keeps me sweet.”

  Max laughed again, nodding toward the bare tree. “Looks like you two have been working hard.”

  “We’ve been planning,” Sophie explained. “More than half the battle. Not that you’d know.”

  Max threw himself down in an armchair angled beside the tree. “Christ. How long am I gonna hear about this?”

  Charlotte bit her lip and didn’t want to see the look on Sophie’s face. Max had gotten Sophie a gift card for Christmas. Hadn’t gone over well. They’d exchanged early because Max was supposed to be going to Florida with his mom for Christmas.

  “Isn’t our one-month anniversary enough of a gift?” Max asked.

  Charlotte snorted.

  “You’re lucky it’s Christmas and I’m in a forgiving mood,” Sophie snapped.

  “FYI, I’ve started charting your progress in a spreadsheet,” Charlotte said to Max. “You’re not doing too hot.”

  “I didn’t think it was that bad a gift!” Max argued.

  Charlotte winced. “It is a little impersonal.”

  “We’ve only been together for a few weeks,” he protested.

  “You’ve known me since I was ten!” Sophie said.

  Max shrugged. “So has everyone in River John.”

  Sophie set her jaw but didn’t reply, grabbing the tinsel from Charlotte and nearly strangling her in the process as she forcefully returned it to its box. Charlotte made a circle with her thumb and finger behind Sophie’s back and aimed the gesture at Max.

  Max replied with a different hand gesture.

  • • •

  “No, no, a little more to the left. Left. Sean, left.”

  Sean ignored her instructions and stepped back from the tree, now pushed against the wall in almost the way she wanted. Charlotte tilted her head and framed the tree, making an L with each hand.

  She patted Sean on the shoulder. “Close enough. Good work, bro. Charlie Brown would be proud.”

  Snow was falling in twisting columns outside, layering the ground in a white blanket. Their not-such-a-bad-little-tree was the last thing on their holiday to-do list. They had a strict no-presents rule. Presents were expensive, and there were very limited shopping options in town anyway. Two years ago she’d gotten Sean a pack of disposable lighters and beef jerky from the Quik Mart, and he’d gotten her a wrench from Home Depot (for what, exactly? So she could fix things? Was it a heavy-handed metaphor? Because it doubled as a weapon?). That’d been the end of the Romer Sibling Christmas Gift Exchange.

  “What time’s dinner, again?” Sean shook his head vigorously, a couple of pine needles bouncing out of his hair.

  “Max said to be at his place for six. Please wear a shirt that doesn’t have a Boston sports team logo on it.”

  Sean shot her a look. “But I ironed one and everything.”

  She would have believed him, but she knew they didn’t own an iron. “Wear the shirt I got you for your birthday,” she suggested.

  Sean wrinkled his face. “It makes me look twelve.”

  Charlotte was distracted by the kitchen timer, which was beeping loudly from the stovetop. “It just has a collar, Sean.”

  She grabbed a pair of oven mitts and checked inside the oven. Shortbread cookies were basically the only thing she was capable of making. School bake sale? Shortbread cookies. Someone’s birthday? Shortbread cookies. Someone found your long-term boyfriend on Tinder? Have some shortbread cookies.

  Charlotte pulled the trays from the oven and chucked them on top of the stove. A few of the Santas were a bit lopsided and one Rudolph was missing a leg. File those under the abstract category.

  “Oh,” she started, remembering the conversation from earlier, “and I told Sophie we’d pick her up.”

  “Sophie Thompson?”

  “No, the other Sophie I spend all my time with.”

  “Oh.” He nodded a few times. “All right, that’s fine.”

  Charlotte turned back to her cookies, shaking her head. “Good to know.”

  “This one looks like an ogre.”

  “Really? It’s from my Maxwell Hale cookie cutter set.” Charlotte set the tray of cookies down on the coffee table as Max inspected the one he’d snatched during the trip from the kitchen to the living room. He was looking at the cookie as if it were an oversized bug.

  “You don’t have to eat it, you know,” Charlotte said.

  “Oh, I’m going to eat it. Will I be happy about it? No.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and returned to the kitchen, where Sean and Sophie were working on dinner.

  “PSA: the turkey is now spaghetti,” Sophie told her. “Did you know turkey takes, like, six hours to cook? And it’s six, so. We’ll skip it.”

  “Ah, yes, we’re doing really well on that planning thing, eh, Soph?” Charlotte folded her arms and leaned against the counter.

  Sean was scooping canned sauce into a pan. “We should just order a pizza.”

  Sophie smacked him in shoulder. “We should not. It’s Christmas.”

  Sean flushed and Charlotte pretended she hadn’t noticed. Sophie, on the other hand, smiled to herself and elbowed him gently in the side. Sean would never admit it but Sophie was just about the only person he let boss him around.

  Max ducked into the kitchen, shoving Charlotte out of the way. “You guys are missing A Christmas Story.”

  “Charlie can’t watch that movie because the kid in it reminds her of Jamie Stevenson,” Sophie said matter-of-factly.

  Charlotte groaned and covered her face with her hand. Jamie Stevenson had attended North Colchester High for a few months last year. Charlotte met him at one of Sophie’s parties, but they never spoke again. “We made out once. Don’t remind me.”

  “You made out with Jamie Stevenson?” Max asked.

  “They did a lot more than make out,” Sophie said, making a face at the sauce she had taken over stirring.

  “Sophie!”

  “I don’t think I want to be here for this,” Sean said.

  “Don’t worry, Sean, they didn’t sleep together,
” Sophie said reassuringly. “Everyone knows Charlotte was saving herself for Jude Peters. Last Canada Day weekend.”

  “Sophie!”

  “Okay, I’m out,” Sean dropped the empty sauce can and pushed himself away from the counter.

  “She’s right,” Max said to Charlotte, “everyone does know that. Jude told the whole school.”

  “Miss him,” Charlotte recalled sarcastically. Jude Peters had been Charlotte’s beloved boyfriend who moved to Ottawa with his family just before school started. Like most of her interactions with boys, Charlotte and Jude’s awkward first sex had been weird and disappointing. But everyone had taken the proper precautions and no one got pregnant or died.

  “She beat me by three weeks!” Sophie cried, slapping her hand to the counter for emphasis. “Three weeks.”

  Sean was covering his eyes and looked like he wanted the floor to open beneath him. “Kill me, please.”

  “I’m going for a smoke, wanna come?” Max offered.

  “Yup.”

  “It’s freezing out,” Sophie said, scolding.

  They shrugged and left anyway.

  “Those two are not long for this world.” Sophie shook her head as Charlotte began filling a large pot with water for the pasta.

  “Thanks for all that, by the way.”

  Sophie sighed, resting her elbow on Charlotte’s shoulder. She ignored Charlotte’s comment. “They’re so lucky to have us.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  • • •

  “I didn’t say Die Hard wasn’t a Christmas movie, I just said we weren’t watching it.” Sophie grabbed the remote from Max as they flicked through the Netflix queue.

  “The Vow is not a Christmas movie, Sophie.”

  Sean sat next to Charlotte on the sofa. “Are they always like this?” he asked.

  Charlotte was flipping through the December issue of Cosmo. She shrugged. Max and Sophie’s honeymoon period had barely lasted through its first school lunch hour. “You sort of don’t notice after a while.”