Chapter 21: Charley
Things were going really well with Zane. Things were going really well with Jett and Penny regarding Zane.
Better than I’d expected anyway.
“So, when are we doing that again?” Penny asked me.
‘That’ referred to bowling.
I shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t expect you guys would want to hang out with him again.”
Jett used his height to hold a door open for us. “He’s not awful.”
“That’s basically permission to marry him, right there,” Penny laughed.
We paused as we got to their classroom.
“Slow down. Let’s see if it lasts a month before we start picking colour schemes. Yeah?”
“We’ll see you later,” Jett said, a hint of a smile on his face.
I waved as I headed for my classroom.
“That’s so gay,” I heard Zane laughing along with Cody and the boys.
I hadn’t heard the first bit, but I was absolutely furious.
How stupid of me to assume he had any ounce of decency left I him. Just because we kissed didn’t make him the person I wanted him to be. And to pull out a shot like that? I thought he was starting to learn about his stupid comments. I’d thought he’d been starting to realise that what he thought of as jokes mattered to people. It wasn’t like I got it right all the time, but I was trying a damned sight better than him.
I was still glaring at him when his eyes fell on me. All laughter died on his lips as he saw me. It was probably a trick of the light, but I hoped that was the colour draining from his face. All I could do was shake my head before I turned around and pushed my way back through the milling students.
“Charley!” I heard him yell, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of stopping.
It didn’t matter, because he caught up with me.
“Charley, stop.”
I whirled on him. “I could say the same thing to you!”
“What?”
“Stop being a jerk! Honestly, you’ll say any old drivel to get a laugh out of those buffoons. I’m embarrassed for you.”
“It was a joke, Char.”
“Yeah, but it’s not a joke. In one sentence you just belittled who people are. Like being gay is bad.”
“It’s just a word. I didn’t mean gay people are bad.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what you said. Is it? And I’m sure that’s not what Cody thinks.”
“Bleeker’s…an acquired taste,” he admitted.
“He’s an arsehole. He’s judgemental and bigoted and probably compensating for something.”
“Now who’s being judgemental?”
“I never said I was perfect, Zane!” I snapped.
“Well, neither did I.”
“I should have known you’d never change. You’re so desperate for approval, so desperate to fit it, you don’t care who you hurt to do it. You’re so much worse than a judgmental bigoted idiot because you claim you know better!”
“Charley, I’m sorry–”
“I’m not the one who needs an apology.”
“Maybe not. But I am sorry I let you down.”
I swallowed back the heat in my throat. “So am I.”
I couldn’t talk to him anymore. I turned and hurried off, willing myself not to cry. I’d promised myself at thirteen, after my first boyfriend dumped me, that he’d be the last guy I’d let make me cry. I told myself it wasn’t Zane who was making me teary, but me. It was my fault I’d believed he wasn’t the arrogant jerk he was in these hallways playing king. I’d believed what I’d wanted and ignored the truth just because I was a suck for the little boy who used to be my best friend.
A few days later, for the third time that week, I slammed the front door on my way into the house. Understandably, Brendan decided I needed a talking to.
He gave me a few minutes, then knocked on the kitchen wall to avoid sneaking up on me.
“What?” I snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“Your attitude for one.” He said it kindly, it was a question, not an accusation.
I nodded. “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate that, Charley. But I’m more worried about what’s causing it than the thing itself.”
I shuffled my foot. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just school stress, you know?”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. Well, I’m here if you need anything. You know that right?”
I did. And I appreciated it more than words could say. “I know. Thanks.”
“Any time. I’m always around.”
He started walking out and I took a step forward.
“It’s Zane,” I blurted out.
Brendan paused, his hand on the door frame. He nodded once before turning around.
“I thought so.”
“Then what was all the… Understanding thing?” I asked him.
I knew what the answer was. It was the same as the answer always was. Brendan was giving me space, not pushing, he was as always just there for me if I needed him. He looked at me and confirmed my thoughts.
“I didn’t want to pry. It could have been a guy. It could have been Jett or Penny. It could have been Zane. It might have been schoolwork. But whatever it was, I didn’t want you feeling like you had to talk to me.”
“You know that attitude is exactly why I whinge so much to you?” I asked.
He smiled. “Best part of my day, kid.”
I huffed a laugh. “Sure.”
He shrugged. “I love that you trust me enough to talk to me. Not many stepdads are that lucky.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Now. Did you want to talk about Zane? Or do you want me to give you some space?”
I bit my lip as I thought about it.
“Up to you. All I ask is that you stop taking it out on the doors.”
I opened my mouth a couple of times, trying to find the words. Finally, I sighed, “Sometimes, I don’t even know who he is anymore.”
Brendan nodded thoughtfully. “He probably thinks the same sometimes.”
“Me?” I scoffed. “I haven’t changed.”
Brendan hugged me close. “Charley-girl, if you think you haven’t changed, you’re dreaming.”
“I haven’t changed that much,” I grumbled.
“I guarantee Zane’s looking at you now wondering where’s that little girl who thought he was a ghost. The two of you have grown up so much since you first met, in so many ways. You can’t keep comparing each other to those four-year-olds. If you don’t change together, you’ll lose each other.”
“But how do we change together? I don’t want to be a popular insensitive jerk.”
“You’ve got to find your ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.”
I pulled back to look at him. “Our what?”
“You know. The song.”
I shook my head. “I do not know the song.”
Brendan grinned ruefully and muttered, “Millennials.”
“Not a millennial,” I quipped.
He grinned, but left that where it was. “It’s a song – excellent song – about two people looking for something in common. ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ is their something in common–”
“Do I need to know what a ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ is to understand this old people reference?” I asked cheekily.
Brendan sighed heavily, knowing me well enough. “It’s a movie.”
“Is it a good movie?”
“Do you want my nugget of wisdom, or shall I go and do something else?”
I clasped my hands behind my back and clamped my mouth shut for a second. “Proceed, O Wise One.”
Brendan snorted. “Sure. Because now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.”
“People looking for things in common,” I reminded him, most helpfully.
“That. You and Zane just need to find your ‘Breakfast at Tif
fany’s’. You need to work out what you guys still have in common.”
“And if that’s a big lot of nothing?”
Brendan’s face lost all hopefulness. “Then you’ve already lost him.”
“I thought this was a pep talk,” I sassed.
“I thought you were all cynical and wise beyond your years,” he countered with a grin.
And, he wasn’t wrong. I knew that life wasn’t all sunshine and daisies. Growing up meant you had to face the shit stuff. It meant realising that sometimes there were no real good answers and solutions, just ones that weren’t as bad. It didn’t mean I wanted a reminder of it right then.
I pointed my finger at him. “I do not like this aging thing. Please make it stop at your earliest convenience.”
Brendan shrugged again. “I don’t make the rules, Charley-girl.”
I sighed. “No. I suppose not.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“About Zane.”
“I don’t know. I just though that maybe one day he’d grow up. No, not grow up. That’d suck. But I thought maybe he’d think about other people again, stop being so…mean to them. But he’s just shown me – yet again – that he’d much rather get a laugh and approval out of stupid Cody Bleeker than be a nice person. He’s a bully.”
“I’m only playing Devil’s Advocate here, but are you sure you’re not overreacting?”
“Bullying isn’t a joke, Brendan.”
“He’s a teenager, Charley. Give him some slack.”
“Slack? I’ve given him four years of slack! He’s had plenty of slack. He is out of excuse on that one.”
“So, you’re just going to give up on him?”
I flailed my arms. “What else am I going to do?”
“Teach him.”
“I’ve been trying. But, once again, the bullies have won.”
“The bullies only win if you stop trying to educate, Charley. You’re right, bullying isn’t a joke, but instead of kicking Zane out of your life, use it as a teachable moment. You won’t change everyone’s opinion, but it only takes one to start an avalanche… Or something like that.”
“He’s never going to change. I thought maybe he was going to, but he won’t.”
“Hun?”
I looked up at him. “Hmm?”
“Knowing something’s right doesn’t change a learned behaviour overnight. Knee-jerk reactions take time and courage to change. Our immediate reactions are what have been educated into us, the ones we have after that are the ones that show who we are, who we want to be.”
I huffed. “When did you get so wise?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Around thirty-nine?”
I smiled.
“Zane was a dick, obviously. But how was he after?”
Jett had told me all about after.
I sighed. “Sorry. He was sorry. He apologised to the kid and to me and even stood up to Cody the next day about something similar. He told him it wasn’t okay.”
“Okay. So, what does that make you think you need to do?” Brendan asked. “What do you want to do?”
“Forgive him, of course.”
“Of course.” Brendan paused and, when I didn’t say any more, continued. “And?”
“And what?”
“What about the other thing?”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “What other thing?”
Brendan chuckled roughly. “I’m your dad, not an idiot.”
“Prove it.”
“I know you and Zane are totally into each other. What are you going to do about that? You worried it will ruin your friendship if you give it a try?”
I laughed humourlessly. “Been there. Done that.”
“Okay. So, you’re gonna give him a second chance?”
I took a deep breath. While I was being honest with him, I may as well lay it all out there. “Yes. I guess he’s still a good guy under all that teenage idiocy–”
“He’s not the only one who suffers from teenage idiocy, Little Miss Enlightened.”
I smiled at him fondly. “Thanks.”
“Any time. Now, go and teach him better.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I started moving away, but realised I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. I turned back to Brendan. “How do I do that?”
“I think you’ve exhausted the limits of my wisdom, kid. You’ve gotta work this one out for yourself. Go find your ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’,” he called as I headed to my bedroom.
“Still don’t get the reference!”
I heard Brendan laugh as I skidded into my room and looked around. I might not have totally understood Brendan’s reference, but I understood enough to know that a ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ was something in common and I had to find Zane and my something in common.
Except I had no idea what our ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ could be.
By absolute coincidence, I happened to look out the window and I saw the treehouse over the back fence. I was instantly flooded with that deep, warm feeling in my chest and a smile on my face. It was accompanied, though, by a niggling feeling of panic and an inexplicable lump in my throat. Although, it wasn’t actually inexplicable, was it? I knew exactly why my feelings about the treehouse were an amazing happiness tinged with sadness.
That treehouse symbolised almost every major milestone in my relationship with Zane. The day he asked if I wanted to help him and his dad build it and we became inseparable. The day he went off to a new school and we promised we’d always be best friends. The day my first boyfriend dumped me and Zane cheered me up with bad movies on his mum’s laptop. The day Zane broke up with his first girlfriend and I wasn’t sure if we were commiserating or celebrating with a bad movie. Every break up since then. The days we got our Learner’s permits. The days we got our P Plates.
We never missed a celebration or a commiseration. That treehouse had seen it all.
It had seen our first kiss.
It was our ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.
It made sense that it saw the resolution to our relationship – whether it was good or bad.
So, I pulled on my big-girl pants. I put on my face-up-to-your-mistakes hat. I took hold of my accept-the-consequences umbrella. And my… I was out of metaphors. Suffice to say, I sucked it up, climbed out my window and headed for the treehouse.
Chapter 22: Zane
I threw the baseball in the air again and caught it just before it landed on my face.
I wasn’t sure I’d have minded if I’d let it connect, to be honest. Everything had gone to shit and it was all my fault. Me and my stupid big mouth. I just hadn’t been able to stop myself performing for that laugh from the guys I called friends. And in the process, I’d not only lost the only girl I’d ever loved, but also the only real friend I could rely on.
For the first time in my life, it sucked to be Zane Lindon.
“Hey, dorkus,” my sister said.
I looked at her, having forgotten I’d thrown the ball again, and winced as it dropped on my head. It bounced onto the bed, and rolled onto the floor with a thunk.
Eden smirked. “Cool.”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, pulling myself up to a slouch. “What do you want?”
“I was just trying to remember what the green light in the treehouse meant.”
I sat up straighter. “What?”
Eden shrugged and looked me over. “The green light in the treehouse? Did that mean ‘come up here and I’ll hit you’ or ‘I might forgive you’?” She crossed her arms and leant on my doorframe.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why do you care? Figure you need to lure defenceless guys some new way?”
She huffed as she uncrossed herself and stood up. “No, dipshit. There’s a green light on in your precious treehouse and I was trying to be nice.” She shook her head as she walked away muttering about ungrateful jerks and turd bro
thers.
I scrambled up and looked out my window. Eden hadn’t been wrong. There was a light on in the treehouse – our signal. And it was green. Green for go, just like the stoplights. Green for I’m here if you want to hang out.
Suddenly, I could see what Eden had meant with her comment. If Charley was in the treehouse and hinting I join her, there were one of two options. Really, there was only one option. Charley wasn’t the sort of girl to do anything that even had a whiff of crawling back about it. So, the only option left was that she wanted to yell at me some more. I felt shit enough about the whole thing so knew it was a just punishment.
I pulled on my shoes and trailed out to the treehouse, resigned to meeting my fate.
I dragged myself up the ladder unenthusiastically, but knowing I fully deserved whatever Charley was about to throw at me.
“I’m sorry,” was not what I expected to burst out of her mouth when she saw my head pop over the floor.
I paused.
She was standing in the middle of the treehouse, her hands clasped in front of her body with that nervous wringing she hadn’t done in years. Her body was poised like she’d been pacing.
I hauled myself the rest of the way into the treehouse and stood as far away from her as I could without falling out the door.
“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” I asked.
It wasn’t like Charlotte Baines to apologise when she should have, let alone when she’d done nothing wrong.
Her face seemed undecided between consternation and uncertainty as she started pacing again. But she said nothing. She was in more danger of wearing a hole in the already flimsy floor.
“Charley,” I said, going to her and making her stop with my hands on her arms. “What’s up?”
She sighed. “I just… You behaved abominably! That’s the truth. What you said about that kid was unforgivable! And just for a laugh.” She looked at me, a frown on her face. She flailed her arms as she stepped away from me. “I just don’t know who you are anymore. You’re just so… So…” She grunted in annoyance. “I just can’t believe some of the inane bullshit that comes out of your mouth–”
“Can I butt in here and ask if the apology was just the fore-runner to your well-chosen insults?”
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