Fat Chance, Charlie Vega

by Crystal Maldonado

  “All right. Well, you should invite me, of course,” she says. “You.”

  “Gee, thank goodness for your help with this list. What would I do without you?”

  “Oh, just write it!”

  “Okay, okay,” I say, writing Amelia’s name, then mine.

  “I like that you’re second on the list to your own birthday party.”

  We both laugh at that. I wouldn’t even be on the list if I could help it.

  “We should add your cousins, probably,” she suggests.

  “You just want me to add Junior,” I say.

  “God, no!” Amelia says, then quickly adds, “I mean, no offense. He was nice for that one date, but not for me.”

  I laugh. “It’s fine. I can’t believe you even went on a date with him in the first place. Who else?”

  “Um…probably Liz and everyone—Jessica, Maddy, John, Khalil, Tyler. I think they’d have a good time.”

  Aside from me, these are definitely Amelia’s closest friends, fellow athletes who are either on the track or volleyball team with her. And yes, they’re the same people responsible for the traumatizing sex talk from eighth grade, but they’re actually pretty cool. They’re always very friendly and kind to me, but they’re not exactly my friends…and I’m not sure if their kindness extends to “willing to go to a friend of a friend’s birthday party.”

  “I don’t know, Amelia…,” I say.

  “Why not?” Amelia asks. “You like them, don’t you?”

  I suppress an eyeroll. Sometimes she doesn’t get it. “Yes, of course I like them. I mean, mostly. I could take or leave Tyler.”

  Amelia nods. “We could all take or leave Tyler.”

  “Yeah. It’s just…do they really want to come to my party? They’re kind of, you know…your friends.”

  “Don’t start with that. Not again!” She shakes her head. “They’re your friends, too, Charlie!”

  “Not really. They like you, Amelia.”

  “And you. We’re kind of a package deal.”

  I smile at that. “Okay. I’ll add them,” I say, scribbling down the names.

  “What about Marcia?” Amelia asks.

  I scrunch my nose. “She talks nonstop about Bible camp. Hard pass.”

  “Good point.”

  I add, “She is nice, though.”

  “Yeah, totally. But you didn’t lie.” Amelia taps her fingernails on the table. Then perks up. “Oh! Benny! From your bio class!” I give her a look. “What? You like Benjamin.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Add him.”

  I do. It’s not as if I have to invite him just because I write his name down. I also add Kait, a quiet but really sweet girl from my English class, and Kait’s best friend, Alexis, because why not? Now I’m just adding names to add them.

  Then I think of Brian. I want to add him for real. But I’ll be honest; I’m afraid he might say no and I’ll realize that our friendship is just something I’ve built up in my head. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.

  Amelia’s reading my mind. “How about Brian?”

  “I don’t know.…”

  “I feel like that shouldn’t even be a question. He’s your friend. He should absolutely get an invite.”

  I shrug one shoulder. “He’ll probably be busy.”

  “You can’t possibly know that, and you won’t unless you ask.” A pause. “Just add him to the list. You can always change your mind.”

  “Okay.” I write his name, including a little question mark after it.

  “And I’ve got one more.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia says. “Kira.”

  “Kira?”

  Amelia nods. She’s mentioned Kira a few times over the last few weeks. Kira is in Amelia’s English class, sits right behind her. They’ve always been friendly (Kira runs track, so they’re in the same social circles). Recently, though, Kira’s name had been dropped in exponentially more conversations.

  “Kira,” I say with emphasis and a grin. “So that’s why you don’t want Junior there!”

  Kira O’Connor is good people and I say that with confidence. A blond, freckled athletic girl with enviable green eyes, she’s a killer track star who is always kind to everyone. When I forgot my lunch money on a field trip once, she loaned me cash without even making it into a thing. Sweet girl, big heart, and much better suited for Amelia than Sid ever was.

  Oh, that’s why Amelia suddenly doesn’t mind track so much. Cute.

  “Just write the name!”

  “Oh, I’ll write it, all right.” I write Kira in giant letters and draw hearts on either side, then show Amelia. “Good?”

  “Don’t!” But she’s smiling.

  And I am, too. Amelia and Kira? I totally ship it.

  ♥ ♥ KIRA ♥ ♥

  Chapter Twenty

  My car won’t start.

  And it’s probably because it’s a beat-up 1999 Toyota Corolla. But it’s my beat-up 1999 Toyota Corolla, you know?

  Unfortunately, my soft spot for my car does nothing for me. The fact is, I’m stranded in the parking lot at work without a soul around. The rest of my coworkers were all gone at 5 p.m. on the dot, but I stayed behind to finish editing a letter for Nancy.

  I text Amelia for help. She responds quickly and offers to come get me. When I tell her I have no way of getting my car home, she tells me not to worry, once she finishes track she’ll pick me up and we’ll figure the rest out later.

  Before I can reply and accept her offer, there’s a knock on my window that startles me so badly I drop my phone.

  It’s only Brian, though, and he’s laughing when I look up at him. I give him a look, reach down to retrieve my phone, and roll down my window.

  “Don’t do that!” I say.

  He’s still laughing. “Sorry! I didn’t know you were so jumpy.”

  My heart is still pounding, but I let out a little laugh, too. “I’m a girl alone in the parking lot and it’s getting dark! Have some self-awareness, my guy!”

  “Yeah, you’re totally right. Sorry! I wanted to say hi,” Brian says, smiling sheepishly. “I just—I barely saw you today.”

  “I know. I was working on some writing for Nancy.”

  Brian whistles. “The big time, huh?”

  I roll my eyes, but I’m pleased. “It’s nothing. What were you doing here late?”

  Now he rolls his eyes. “Finishing a big order alone because Prince Dave couldn’t be bothered to stay past four. Typical.”

  “A prince never mingles with the court jester, so I’m not surprised.”

  “Wait, am I the court jester in this scenario? Charlie!”

  “What?” I ask innocently.

  Brian shakes his head, laughing. “Well, traitor, I’m going to head out. You have a good weekend.”

  “You too, Brian.” He waves and begins to walk away. I’m watching him go when a thought occurs to me. “Hey, wait!”

  He turns. “What’s up?”

  “Can I ask a favor?”

  “Insult, then a favor?” Brian gives me a solemn look. “Yikes, Charlie. Yikes.”

  “Seriously, though. Know anything about cars?” I ask. Brian lifts an eyebrow, intrigued. “Mine won’t start. Can you help?”

  But when he shoves his hands in his pockets, I’m certain he doesn’t. “God, I wish I could. I’m actually not that great with cars.” His cheeks look at little pink as he says it, like he’s embarrassed by that.

  “Oh, yeah, no problem,” I say. “I’ll figure something out. Thanks anyway!”

  “Well, wait. Just because I can’t personally help doesn’t mean I don’t know someone who can. My mom could take a look.”

  “That’s really nice of you, but I definitely don’t want to inconvenience your mom. Or you.” I hold up my phone to him. “I was literally just texting with Amelia and she offered to pick me up.”

  “It’s not an inconvenience. My mom lives for this kind of stuff.”

  �
�I don’t know.…”

  “We live, like, two minutes from here,” Brian says. “Seriously, Charlie. Let me at least ask her and see what she says.”

  I’d love to not have to spend money on a tow…and Brian seems so adamant that he can help. Plus, hanging out with him for a little longer than I’d normally get to wouldn’t be so bad, right? So I relent. “Okay. Yeah, thank you.”

  “And if my mom can’t help, I’ll give you a ride home. No big deal.”

  “That would be awesome.”

  As I watch Brian walk away to call his mom, I suddenly find myself feeling a little nervous. Brian and I are alone all the time at work, but for some reason, this feels different. And why are there suddenly some butterflies in my stomach? Is it my anxiety brain, just nerves, something else?

  My phone buzzes and I check it to see that it’s Amelia asking if I’m still there. Oh! Right. I text her back to let her know I’m good, but I won’t need a ride, and I’ll give her details later.

  When I look up from my phone, Brian is already making his way back over to my car. He’s smiling, so I think it’s good news. “She’ll be here in a few.”

  “Great!” I say. “Thank you so much.”

  “It’s no problem. My mom is really good with cars. She once restored a 1954 Thunderbird convertible.”

  “Wow! I have no idea what that means, but it sounds impressive.”

  Brian laughs. “I wish I had no idea what that means. She talked about that car so much.”

  “You want to sit?” I ask, motioning toward the passenger seat of my car. It feels a little weird for me to be sitting in my car and not to offer a seat to Brian, too. “You should sit.”

  “Sure,” Brian says as I reach over to the passenger door and unlock it. He lets himself inside. “Nice ride.”

  He’s teasing, and I give him a playful look. “Don’t. I know it’s ancient.” I glance at the empty water bottles I have in my backseat and frown. “And a little dirty.”

  “Like mine’s any better.” He forks a thumb in the direction of his car, and my eyes follow. It’s a black convertible.

  “Looks pretty nice to me,” I say. “The top goes down!”

  “Yeah, but it’s pretty beat up inside. It’s a Sebring. We got it secondhand and my ma restored it,” Brian explains. “Also, not to sound ungrateful, but who wants to drive a convertible in Connecticut? The top leaks! Like, all winter long! I’m just glad it survived the season.”

  “Well, it looks pretty impressive on the outside, if that makes you feel any better. For pure aesthetics, I feel like you can’t go wrong with convertibles. They just seem…I don’t know. Cool.”

  “‘Cool,’ huh?” Brian grins. “Yeah, I guess it is. In warm weather, anyway. It’s kind of nice to put the top down during summer and drive around.”

  “You just love feeling the wind in your hair, don’t you?”

  “Ya got me, Charlie. You know how much I love to feel the wind in these long, beautiful locks of mine.” He shakes his hair dramatically, but it’s short so it barely moves at all. I giggle. “Hey, we should go for a ride sometime. When it’s nicer. You actually might enjoy the feeling of the wind in your beautiful hair.”

  I feel my cheeks get hot at the compliment, and my hand reaches for a curl, which I give a little tug. “Yeah, that could be fun.”

  “Yeah.” He’s looking right at me. “It could be.”

  Nervously, I push my glasses up my nose, looking away from him and out the front window. My heart is beating fast and I’m scrambling to change the subject, like, now.

  “So, my mom is being a jerk,” I blurt out.

  “Again? Everything okay?”

  I laugh, probably a little awkwardly. “I mean, all right, she’s not being a jerk. But she is forcing me to have a birthday party. And I told her I’m way too old to have a birthday party and nobody even does that anymore, but…”

  Why am I even telling him this?

  “Is it a birthday party with, like, Pin the Tail on the Donkey?” Brian asks. “In that case, yeah, sure, you might be too old. But if it’s a birthday party where you get to invite some friends to do something fun, that might not be too bad.”

  I shrug a little. “Yeah. I don’t know.…” As my voice trails off, I see that Brian’s looking at me, patiently waiting for more. “Well, Amelia and I were putting together a list of people to invite. And it’s mostly her friends on the list. I just…” I hesitate to say the next thing. “I don’t have many friends.”

  Brian shakes his head. “Everybody likes you, Charlie. You’re, like, the nicest person in school.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say.

  “Well, I think you’re well liked. And if nothing else, I’m definitely your friend.”

  My lips curve into a smile. “Yeah?” A pleasant feeling of relief washes over me as I hear that, like when your toes are bitingly cold and suddenly they start to thaw with warmth. For weeks, I’ve been in my head over whether we’re actually friends, so afraid of my own judgment after the mess with Cal. But this confirmation, albeit small, gives me reassurance. What a kindness Brian has just extended to me without even knowing.

  “Well, aren’t I?”

  “Of course!” I say enthusiastically. Then, after a beat, “So?”

  “So?” he asks.

  “Is this you offering to come to my birthday party?”

  “No,” Brian says, and my heart sinks. “This is you inviting me to come to your birthday party.”

  I laugh at that, relaxing.

  “I’d love to come,” he continues. “Thank you for asking.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say. “Aren’t I thoughtful?”

  “Absolutely. Can you actually make sure we can play Pin the Tail on the Donkey, though?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  It’s then that Brian points at a car pulling into the lot. “There’s my mom. Uh, so, full disclosure: I look nothing like her.”

  I make a face. “I barely look like my mom, either. My dad’s genes definitely won out.”

  “Right. But, like, my other mom is the one I look like. She’s the one who carried me and all. I mean—some people are put off by it. I just wanted to get that out there so you didn’t feel weird.”

  I can tell this is probably something he’s had to explain before. I understand. When you don’t look like one of your parents, sometimes you get funny stares, sometimes weird questions, and sometimes—best-case scenario—no reaction at all. I’m aiming for the latter here.

  “You didn’t have to explain that to me,” I say gently. “But I totally get it.”

  He smiles, looking visibly relieved. “Come on.”

  We get out of the car and wave his mom over, even though the parking lot is empty otherwise and I’m pretttttty sure she would have found us. She pulls her car right next to mine and gets out.

  Like Brian, his mom is tall and a little pudgy, but the similarities stop there. She’s got red hair chopped in a bob, freckled skin, and bright blue eyes. He’s right; she looks absolutely nothing like Brian, with his dark hair, clear skin, and black eyes. But she’s lovely.

  “Hey, Ma,” Brian says.

  “Hey. I hear we’re having some car trouble?” She looks over at me and gives me a sweet smile. “I’m Maura.”

  “I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand for her to shake, feeling like a grown-up.

  She shakes it. “And you. How can I help?”

  I tell her that my car won’t start and she asks me a few questions, then instructs me to get in, roll down the window, and start the engine. When it won’t turn over, she tells me to pop the hood.

  Embarrassingly, I have to ask, “How do I do that?”

  Maura grins. “There’s a lever on the lower left below the steering wheel. It should have a picture of a car with its hood open. Pull that up.”

  I search for the lever she’s talking about and, when I find it, pull. But my trunk goes up.

  “No
t that one,” Brian says, laughing.

  “Oh, oops!” I laugh, too. I reach until I find another lever beside it and pull. This time, my hood makes an unlatching sound. “Is that it?”

  “You got it!” Maura props the hood up. After a moment of inspection, she walks over to my window. “Good news and bad news.”

  “Oh, boy. It’s dead forever, isn’t it?” I ask anxiously.

  She chuckles. “No. Good news is the car just needs a charge and you should be able to get it home.”

  “Oh! Great!” I say.

  “Bad news is you’ll need a new battery,” Maura says. “This one’s on its way out. Should run you less than a hundred dollars, and I can put the new one in for you.”

  “Really? That wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

  She waves her hand at that. “Not at all! I’d be happy to do it. You just connect with Brian and figure out where and when, and we’ll get it done. Sound good?”

  “Sounds amazing!” I say, grateful to avoid paying a mechanic on top of the hundred bucks I’ll be out. “Thank you!”

  Brian’s grinning. “See? I told you she could take care of this, no problem.”

  “Can you grab my jumper cables from the trunk?” Then Maura looks at me and says, “We can get it hooked up and you’ll be right on your way.”

  It takes only a few more minutes to connect our two cars and get mine to start. I’m so excited when the engine turns over and my car turns on that I get out and give Maura a hug.

  “Don’t forget to get that battery, though, okay?” she says. “And let me help you install it!”

  “She means it,” Brian says.

  “I will, I promise. Thank you.” I look at Brian. “Both of you. So much.”

  I get in my car to leave, and there’s a little jolt of excitement inside me.

  Because I now officially have a reason to see Brian outside of work or school.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  He likes you. I reread the text Amelia has sent me. I’m in English class, and I should be paying attention, but Amelia won’t stop texting…and okay, I won’t stop texting her back, either.

  When I got home last night after Brian and his mom helped me with my car, my mom asked me to go to the gym with her. Her friends would be there, she said. So I agreed. We had a decent time and the workout left her in such a good mood that I used the opportunity to ask if she could take me to buy a new car battery. At the auto parts store, Mom was flirting with the sales guy so bad that he gave us his own employee discount of fifty percent. I’ve got to hand it to her: girl knows how to get what she wants.