Chapter 19
CHARLIE
No amount of soap or scrubbing gets rid of the blue tinge from my skin. Running late, I give up on trying to find a solution to my problem. The alternative is to wear a long-sleeved turtleneck and jeans. There’s nothing I can do about my hands. I can’t wear gloves to a barbecue. It’s not that cold.
And to think I masturbated to Troy’s image while marinating in blue dye.
That added insult to injury. He made me cry, something no boy has ever been able to claim until him.
That’s what I get for lowering my defenses.
Lust played keep-away with my intelligence.
It made me forget what type of person Troy is—an egomaniacal asshole.
I don’t have time to stop by Golden Oaks. It’s the second weekend in a row that I haven’t gone. I miss Ophelia and the rest of the gang, but I have to drive to Littleton first because Mom wants to go together as a family. Never mind that the party is halfway between where I live and Littleton.
When I arrive, the garage door is open, but only Mom’s car is in it. Shit, did Dad have to work on a weekend again?
When I walk in, I get my answer right away. Mom is in a bad mood, sporting a glower as she finishes getting ready. Ben is on the couch, playing a video game, while Bailey naps by his feet.
“About time you showed up, Charlie. We’re already running late.”
“Sorry. I had a late night.”
She stops in her tracks and takes in my clothes. “What are you wearing? It’s going to be a lovely day today. You’ll get hot.”
I glance at Ben and debate if I should tell Mom about Troy’s latest prank. In the end, I decide against it. She’s already acting like a dragon; I don’t need to give her more reason to be aggravated.
I plop on the couch next to Ben and bend over to rub Bailey’s head. She doesn’t even stir. Poor thing must be tired.
“What’s up with Mom?” I ask softly so she doesn’t hear.
“Dad said he couldn’t make it to the barbecue. They had a big argument last night.”
“Really? Ah, man. I’m sorry, Ben.”
He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the game. “It’s okay. I had my noise-canceling headphones on.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. I know how busy you are with school and your side jobs.”
“What are you two doing, sitting around?” Mom stands at the edge of the living room with her hands braced on her hips. “Come on. Let’s go!”
I jump off the couch, walking fast to meet Mom in the garage. She already has the car on.
The drive to her boss’s party is tense as hell.
I try to put on a radio station, but Mom barks that she isn’t in the mood for music.
Considering the shitty beginning of my day, it’s fitting that I have to endure a party with Mom in a hellish disposition.
I hope Ben and I can escape at the party and not interact with her at all.
Her boss’s house is in Malibu, not a usual spot for a technology mogul.
He’s a genius who built a company out of nothing, and he’s now one of the wealthiest businessmen in the country.
Mom has been working for his company for over six years, and this is the first time he’s hosted a barbecue for his employees and their families.
Any company event has been only for the employees and their significant others in the past.
Several cars are parked outside the beachfront mansion, but if we’re indeed late, that’s another story.
Mom asked me to drop by the house at a certain time, and I was only ten minutes late.
We didn’t encounter a lot of traffic coming here, so it’s possible she blew the situation out of proportion because she’s in a funk.
Well, that makes two of us, but you don’t see me acting out on it.
An attractive man in his fifties greets us when we come in. A beer bottle is in his hand. He’s wearing a casual linen button-down shirt and pants. I can tell with only a cursory glance that he likes to work out.
“Tara, welcome! I’m so glad you could come.” He gives Mom a casual hug that lasts a second. “Where’s Jason?”
Her expression darkens for a moment, but she’s quick to put on a phony smile. “He couldn’t come. He feels awful, but he had an emergency at the warehouse.”
“That’s too bad.” He switches his attention to us. “And who do we have here?”
“This is my daughter, Charlie, and my son, Ben.”
“Hi.” I smile feebly, keeping my hands hidden behind my back.
“I’m Jonathan. Nice to meet you, Charlie.” He extends his hand, which I was afraid of. I have no choice but to shake it.
“Nice to meet you too.”
Mercifully, he’s one of those people who maintains eye contact—probably something to do with being a successful CEO—and he never glances at my blue hand. He shakes hands with Ben next and then returns his attention to Mom.
They’re talking shop now, which allows me to observe him more.
His dark blond hair is peppered with gray, and expression marks deepen when he smiles, but other than that, he looks quite young.
There’s no wedding ring on his finger. I remember Mom saying he was divorced, but a guy who looks like him and with all this money must have a young-looking girlfriend.
Charlie, you’re being judgmental. He could be single or dating someone his age.
I realize that with Mom distracted by her boss, this is the best opportunity for Ben and me to escape. I pull on his sleeve and point at the outdoor area where several people are mingling near the pool. He nods silently, and together, we slink away from Mom.
Most of the female guests are wearing summer dresses, which makes me stick out like a sore thumb. My turtleneck has to be black to boot. It’s not like I don’t own brighter colored sweaters. Maybe I was going for something that represented my mood, but now I’m regretting it.
“Let’s get something to drink,” Ben says.
I follow him to the bar, where a lanky ginger is prepping drinks like a pro. He moves so fast, I’m afraid he’s going to drop one of the bottles he’s handling.
When it’s our turn, I ask him, “Are you training for something?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen someone move that fast behind a bar, not even at a nightclub.”
He laughs. “I am actually practicing. I’m auditioning for the lead role in the remake of Cocktail next week.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is Cocktail that eighties movie with Tom Cruise?”
“Yep.” He bobs his head up and down. “So, what can I get you?”
“I’ll have a dry martini, please.” Ben casually leans his forearm against the bar, acting like he’s a leery thirty-year-old man, not sixteen.
The bartender chuckles. “Sure, pal. How about a Sprite?”
Ben steps away from the bar, returning to his old self. “Nah. I’ll have root beer if you have it.”
“Sure thing. And how about you, sugar?”
“Sugar?” I laugh.
“She’ll have a Blue Lagoon cocktail,” a hateful and familiar voice answers for me. “I think it’ll match her… suit .”
The bartender gives me a quizzical look, but I’m no longer interested in him.
Curling my hands into fists, I turn around. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Troy crosses his left arm over the sling and stares at me with eyes that are cold and ruthless. Gone is the good-guy persona. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Charlie!” Jane walks over. “What are you doing here? Did Troy invite you?”
Oh my God . One of their parents must work for the same company Mom does. This is like a nightmare that will never end.
“No. I’m here with my mother. She works for Slate Corp.”
Troy’s eyebrows almost meet his hairline. “Your mother works for our father?”
“Wait. Jonathan is your dad?”
“Yeah,” Jane replies. “What a small world.”
“You don’t say,” I mumble.
“Hi, I’m Ben, Charlie’s brother.” He waves in Troy and Jane’s direction. “This is a really nice house.”
“Yeah, it’s cool.” She shrugs while Troy keeps glaring at me. “I’m Jane, by the way, Troy’s sister.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yeah, it’s my senior year.”
“Uh, miss? Do you still want a drink?” the bartender asks.
I glance over my shoulder. “Just some water, please.”
“Right away.”
When I turn around, Troy is already going back to the house. He goes out of his way to not come near the pool, glancing at it as if some danger lurks in the crystalline water.
“What’s the deal with your brother and pools?” I ask, interrupting Ben and Jane’s chatter.
“Oh, Troy can’t handle pools. Not since the accident.”
“What accident?”
Jane’s expression clouds. Her mouth tenses, giving me a clue that it’s not a subject she likes to talk about.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me.”
“It’s fine. Our family doesn’t really speak much about it, so it’s weird to do so. But I guess since you’re Troy’s roommate, you should know. It would help you understand my brother.”
I’m sensing it’s something that irrevocably changed Troy. My heart clenches a little in expectation. Despite my animosity toward him, I’m already suffering in sympathy without even knowing what his trauma is.
“What happened?” Ben asks.
“Our younger brother drowned in a pool when he was three. Troy was eight when it happened.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Yeah, it was rough. I don’t remember much about it. I was only four then, but Troy took it really hard. He doesn’t do pools now.”
As angry as I am with Troy, I can’t help the guilt that sneaks into my heart. The sentiment is strange and not exactly logical. There’s no correlation to Troy’s prank and his early childhood ordeal.
“Well, I’m afraid of heights,” Ben shares. “Probably because I fell from the neighbor’s tree house when I was younger.”
“Oh, I was the same way until Troy took me bungee jumping. You should try it.”
Ben scrunches his eyebrows together. “Eh, I don’t know.”
“I’m sure if you ask Troy, he’ll take you too.”
I’m ready to put the kibosh on that idea, but Ben is quicker in replying, “I don’t think so. He’s mean.”
Mental facepalm. Ben can be so blunt sometimes.
Jane furrows her eyebrows together. “Troy is mean? That’s news to me. He can be a pain in the butt, especially when he enters protective mode, but I’ve never seen him act mean on purpose.”
Ben opens his mouth to offer a retort, but I cut in before he says too much. “I never got a chance to ask the last time we hung out. Do you already know where you’re going next year?”
“Ugh, don’t even get me started on that. I want to stay here and go to Rushmore, but my father is pushing Stanford.”
“Stanford is a great school,” Ben pipes up.
“I know, but that’s not my dream, you know?”
I turn my gaze to the house once more. Jane and Ben continue the conversation, but my thoughts are not in the here and now. They’re with Troy.
Was he telling the truth when he said he didn’t prank me? My head is telling me he’s full of shit. Who else would have done it? But my heart is torn.
Shit. I’m a mess. That’s a plot twist I didn’t see coming.