“I didn’t want to subject Brian to whatever was about to happen.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’m being dramatic? You stormed into my room and started yelling at me.”
“You were practically having sex with some boy I don’t even know in my own home!”
“Now who’s being dramatic? We were fully clothed!” I retort. “And technically, you do know him because you’ve met him already!” (I am not making things better.)
“You know what I mean, Charlie!”
“I don’t really! We were just kissing, Mom, and that isn’t just ‘some boy.’ That’s my b—” I almost say it—boyfriend—but I catch myself and stop. Still, I’m surprised when my mother’s face seems to drain of color.
“That’s your boyfriend?” she asks in a voice that’s infinitely softer than I expect.
“I mean, we haven’t really hashed that part out yet, but we’re kind of, you know, dating. Or whatever.”
“For how long?”
“A bit,” I say.
“Oh.” She looks away from me.
I’ll admit it; I’m perplexed. I really don’t know where this conversation is going. I mean, that’s often my mom’s tactic when we’re fighting, but this feels genuine.
“Mom, I’m sure it was pretty mortifying to see that when you weren’t expecting it. But I am seventeen now. I mean…”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
“I was going to…,” I say, but it’s a lie. I wasn’t.
“But…?”
“But you weren’t exactly warm to Brian when you met him that time he helped me with my car. Or when we ran into him at the mall a few weeks ago. And you seemed upset that I’d invited him to my birthday party, which I’m not even sure I understand, by the way. Why were you freaked out by that?”
“He’s…” Mom starts to speak but stops herself.
“He’s what?” I ask. “Because if this is about him being Korean, Mom, I swear.”
“No! It’s not that. Not at all,” she says. “He’s just not someone I imagined you spending time with, that’s all.”
“Who, exactly, were you imagining me spending time with?” I ask. She doesn’t offer up an answer. “Mom?”
“Someone…different, I guess. Less…nerdy.” Then, in a small voice, she adds: “Maybe someone thinner.”
“What?”
“Now, don’t freak out on me, Charlie,” she says. “You can’t fault me for imagining the best for you.”
“What are you even talking about, Mom? How would Brian being thinner be better for me?”
“I just thought it would serve you well to find someone who could help put you on the right path.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. “Oh my God!”
“Don’t do this, Charlie,” she says.
“Don’t do this? Don’t do this?! You’re unbelievable! You just told me you were being outright rude to a guy I like because you think he’s fat. But guess what? I’m fat, too!”
“Oh, stop it.” As she speaks, she’s rubbing her temples as if somehow I’m exhausting her. “I’m sorry I care about you, Charlie. Sooo sorry!”
“God, you are impossible! You want to know why I didn’t tell you about Brian, Mom? This is why I didn’t tell you! Because you don’t give a shit about me and what makes me happy—the real me, not the fake me you make up in your head, not the me you wish I’d turned out to be, not the me you hope will someday exist, but me. The actual person standing in front of you. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself!”
“Charlie—”
But I’m not listening. I hurry toward my room, slam the door behind me, and pray she won’t come after me.
She doesn’t. It’s the nicest thing she’s done for me in weeks.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
After a night of angry-crying and barely sleeping, I know I must look like hell the next day at school, but Brian doesn’t say anything when I get to my locker except for “You good?” When I say yes, he doesn’t press the issue.
My mom and I haven’t spoken, so I’m not grounded or anything (yet), but things aren’t great. Last night, I strongly considered calling Amelia to tell her everything that had happened, but I was too tired even for that.
So instead, I texted her to say I missed her and she texted back that she missed me, too, and I left it at that.
This morning, I did everything I could to avoid seeing my mom, even waiting until the very last possible second to get ready for school. She was gone by the time I left, but I barely had enough time to brush my teeth, let alone make sure my hair was tamed.
So, yeah, I’m feeling rough when I get to school, and not especially talkative.
“We still on for lunch today?” Brian asks as we walk down the hall together.
“What?”
“We had plans for you to join me for lunch in the art room again today, right? Or did I imagine that?”
We stop in front of the door to homeroom. I know we talked about this, and yet I feel too tired to remember. “Oh, yeah.”
Brian shrugs. “We don’t have to. No big deal.”
“No, we’re still on.” Then I force a smile.
He smiles back. “Okay. See you later?”
“Yes. See you later,” I say.
I keep to myself for most of the day, but I do join Brian in the art room at lunch. I forgot to pack anything this morning, so I show up empty-handed and he offers to split his food with me.
I nibble on a little here and there, but I don’t really feel hungry, so instead I slowly take out my art project and supplies and set up my spot beside him. I work on my horse painting—it’s, like, a day or so away from being done and it still looks pretty terrible—but I don’t say much.
Brian chooses some music for us and then does all of the heavy lifting with the talking. He tells me all about a marathon video game livestream he and his friends will be doing soon, and I listen closely, thankful for the distraction.
In last period, Amelia asks if I want to grab dinner with her after work, but I don’t feel like it, so I ask for a rain check. She asks what’s wrong. I say that I’ve gotten into another fight with my mom, and she gives me a sympathetic look but says nothing.
On the way out of school, Brian catches up with me and we start to walk toward the parking lot.
“Hey,” he says. “You working tonight?”
“I am. You?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” We head toward my car, and as I put my key into the door, Brian touches my arm. “Is everything okay, Charlie? You seem out of it.”
I look up at him and see that his eyes are big and his eyebrows are furrowed.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I got into a fight with my mom when I got home last night. It was bad. It was really bad.” I tell him a condensed version of what happened, omitting certain parts—there’s no way in hell I’m going to make Brian feel bad about himself because of my mom’s own body issues—and he listens.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” he says, pulling me into a hug. I hug him back, hard, and realize this is exactly what I needed.
“I wish we could skip work today,” I groan.
Brian pulls back from me and smiles. “Why can’t we?” He puts the back of his hand on my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”
I smile. “Hmm…I guess I am feeling a little overheated, now that you mention it. And you sound a little raspy, don’t you?”
Brian touches his throat. “It hurts to talk, actually.”
“I guess we have no choice but to call out of work.”
“I guess so,” Brian says. “See you at my house in ten?”
Suddenly, I feel much better.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next time my mom speaks to me, it’s just to let me know I’m grounded, of course. But it’s just for the week, which passes quickly and (let’s be real) quietly with my mom and I not exactl
y on speaking terms. I spend all my copious free time working on my story for the contest, the fight with my mom adding fire and feeling to my words.
Before I know it, it’s Friday. Unfortunately, Brian texts me to tell me he’ll be out sick (he thinks he has the flu, Karma for faking, he says), and I find myself at my locker alone.
It’s then that I realize I’ve barely seen Amelia recently.
I feel awful about it. (The awfulness comes over me in a flood, actually.) I don’t want to be the girl who forgets her friends because of a boy, I swear. It’s just that I’m so happy around Brian that it’s hard not to want to feel that good all the time.
I scold myself and swear I’ll be a better friend. Starting now.
I try to catch Amelia at her locker, but she’s not there. (Our morning routine is all messed up because I’ve been walking to homeroom with Brian instead.) It’s not until third period that I even see her, but she’s late to class and we have a test that takes up the entire period, so we don’t get to talk.
At lunch, I’m grateful when I spot Amelia, Kira, and the group eating outside at a picnic table.
“Hey, guys!” I say once I’m within earshot.
Liz and Maddy smile and wave. “Hey, Charlie!” Liz says.
“Long time no see,” John says.
“Joining us for lunch today?” Jessica asks.
I eye the spot beside Amelia and look at her. “If that’s cool with you, I’d love to. I miss you guys. Can I?”
Amelia answers without looking up at me. “You don’t have to ask.”
“Thanks,” I reply, taking a seat.
Amelia’s friends resume their conversation about how excited they are for summer break, which is rapidly approaching. (Liz will be working as a lifeguard. Maddy will be traveling with family for most of the summer and she’s worried about being apart from Khalil. Jessica will be attending volleyball camp. Tyler remarks that he just wants to party.)
I smile, nod, and join in when I can, but don’t offer much. Instead, I keep trying to talk to Amelia, but her responses to my questions—How are you? What have you been up to lately? Intense test we just took, huh?—are as close to one-word answers as possible. In fact, at one point I swear I see her angle her body away from me and toward Kira.
When the lunch bell rings and Amelia stands, I reach out and put my hand on her arm. “Is everything okay?”
Amelia exchanges a look with Kira, who nods her head and motions for the group to leave.
When they do, Amelia says, “No. It’s not, actually.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Amelia looks down, but she says nothing. “Seriously, Amelia. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Charlie. You tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kind of seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately. I’ve barely seen you at all,” she says. “Seems like you’re always with Brian.”
“I’m not,” I insist, even though she’s right.
Amelia shoots me a look. “Really?”
With a sigh, I say, “Okay, I’ll admit that I have been spending a lot of time with Brian. But I’m free tonight! Do you want to hang out?”
“I’m already having Liz, Jess, and Maddy sleep over.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Amelia says, and there’s a long pause. Finally, she asks, “Do you want to come?”
I put my hand to my heart. “Oh my God—I really thought you were going to freeze me out.”
She smirks. “Good. I wanted you to sweat a little.”
“So, meet you at your house after school?” I ask.
“It’s a date,” Amelia says.
The rest of the day crawls by, but only because I’m actually pretty excited about this sleepover. It will be nice to have some girl time and it’s been forever since I’ve stayed the night at Amelia’s. After the final bell, I rush to my car and head home to pack a bag with the essentials: some pj’s, an outfit for tomorrow, beauty products, my phone charger. Then I shoot a text to Brian to let him know I’m thinking of him and hope he feels better and I head to Amelia’s.
Mrs. Jones answers the door after two knocks. “So good to see you, Charlie!” She gives me a hug. “It’s been a bit, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” I agree, feeling guilty. Even Mrs. Jones has noticed my absence.
“The girls are downstairs in the basement,” she says. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Can I take your bag up for you?”
“Sure! Thanks so much.” I hand it to her and then head downstairs, where I’m greeted by Amelia, Liz, Maddy, and Jessica.
“Hi, Charlie!” Maddy says.
“Charlie in the house!” Liz yells, and Amelia and Jessica both laugh and say hello. Amelia gives me a hug and I take it as a good sign.
“Okay, okay, so Liz was just starting to tell us about how Wren Bellamy ate total shit today in gym,” Jessica says. “Keep going!”
“Right! Yeah, so, we all know how much Wren loves to show off her gymnastics skills whenever she can,” Liz says.
Jessica rolls her eyes. “It drives me nuts. Like, we get it, Wren. You’re rich and you’ve taken gymnastics classes since you were three and you think you’re better than the rest of us. Cool.”
“The girl has no chill,” Amelia says. “Also, she once called me the poop emoji, so there’s that.”
“What?” Maddy asks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I have no idea!” Amelia laughs. “But Charlie was there—you remember, Charlie, right?”
“I will never forget,” I say. “It was literally one of the weirdest conversations ever. Amelia and I were talking about our most-used emojis or something stupid like that, and for some reason, Wren just butts right in.”
“Out of nowhere!” Amelia says. “And she goes, ‘Well, Amelia, if you were an emoji, you’d be the poop emoji.’” We all start laughing. “Like, what do you even say to that?”
Jessica shakes her head. “Nothing, because Wren is so rude she isn’t even worth responding to! In econ class, Wren once turned to me, unprompted, and said she won’t eat from the cafeteria because that food is for poor people. ‘It’s all corn and bread and tacos.’”
I’m appalled. “Ex-cuse me?”
“That is a seriously insensitive thing to say,” Maddy adds. I’ve noticed that Maddy tends to stay quiet when it comes to gossip, so when even she chimes in, you know it’s bad. “Like, even if that were true, why would it be bad?”
“Fuck all of that,” Liz says. “You guys will love this.”
“Yes, we are fully ready!” Amelia rubs her hands together eagerly.
There is a delighted look on Liz’s face, knowing we’re hooked before she’s even begun the story. “Okay, so, I’m in gym class and we have a sub so it’s kind of a free gym period. Some people are walking the track, some people are playing HORSE, whatever. It’s mostly super chill. But Wren decides she wants to pull out the balance beam from the storage room. And she somehow convinces a few of the people in class to help her set it up.”
“What’s the sub doing while this is all happening?” Amelia asks.
“I don’t know, messing around on his phone, maybe watching the class descend into chaos—clearly checked out, though. So it takes Wren and them forever to get the balance beam out, but once it is, Wren decides ‘fuck the rules.’ She’s supposed to be using a spotter and she doesn’t, and she’s supposed to lay down mats, but she doesn’t do that, either.”
“Oh, no,” Maddy breathes.
“Oh, yes,” Liz says.
Jessica looks over at Amelia. “God, I wish I had some popcorn right now.”
Liz grins and leans forward to dramatically continue with the story. “So Wren gets up there, starts talking about how she won regionals last year with this routine, and she’s a champion, and we should all pay attention to a champion’s routine—and then she launches into some intense cartwheels and, like, midtwirl, her foot misses the beam! She absolutely eats shit and falls all the
way to the ground!” Liz slaps her hands, together mimicking the sound. “THUNK.”
We all cringe at the idea of falling on that wooden gym floor from a few feet up.
“God, that must’ve sucked!” I say.
“It looked like it hurt,” Liz admits.
“How mortifying,” Maddy says, and we’re all nodding.
“But…it was kinda funny, too, wasn’t it?” Jessica asks, a playful smile on her lips.
Liz can’t help it and smiles, too, before insisting, “Only because she ended up being totally fine!”
“Yeah, of course,” Amelia says.
Maddy nods. “Absolutely.”
Then we all exchange glances and start laughing. “God, we’re horrible!” I say.
“The worst,” Maddy agrees. Her phone chimes and she glances at it, a huge smile spreading across her face as she reads whatever has popped up on her screen.
“Oh. That must be Khalil,” Liz says knowingly.
Maddy turns her phone over shyly, leaving it screen side down. “How can you tell?”
“Girl, that grin,” Amelia teases. “No shame. We all smile goofy like that when our person texts.”
“He was just checking in before he heads out with the boys. I can’t help it; I still get excited to hear from him,” Maddy says.
“I get it,” I say, excited that I really do.
Jessica nods. “Oh, yeah. You and Brian! You two are super cute.”
I beam. “Thank you! Yeah, he’s really, really great.”
“Is he out with friends tonight, too?” Maddy asks.
“No, not tonight,” I say. “Unfortunately, he’s home sick with the flu.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Liz says.
“Home with the flu?” Amelia asks sharply. “Guess that explains why you were suddenly free.”
“Hey, no,” I say, caught off guard. “Not true at all.”
But maybe it is—at least a little?
“Of course,” Amelia says, crossing her arms.
Fat Chance, Charlie Vega Page 24