Chapter 22 Charlotte #2
The next thirty minutes crawl by as we watch the remaining teams perform. Some are flawless, others struggle. One team’s braid comes partially undone, and I watch them scramble to repair it with my stomach in knots, grateful that wasn’t us.
Finally, all the teams have performed. Professor Lowell takes the stage with an envelope, and the room falls silent. My heart starts hammering all over again.
Sarah’s hand finds mine, both of us squeezing tight.
“This year’s Friends and Family Showcase has demonstrated exceptional talent,” Professor Lowell begins. “Every team showed skill, creativity, and professionalism. However, judging is based on technical execution, time management, and overall aesthetic vision.”
Get on with it, I think desperately.
“I’ll now announce the top three teams. In third place, for their beautiful waterfall braid with vintage waves... Emma Rodriguez and Tyler Jackson!”
Applause fills the auditorium.
“In second place, for their intricate fishtail braided updo... Melissa Wong and David Park!”
More applause. Which means we either got first place or we didn’t place at all.
My grip on Sarah’s hand tightens. The baby gives a little flutter.
Professor Lowell smiles. “And finally, in first place, for their flawless execution of a braided crown with cascading curls, demonstrating exceptional technical skill and artistic vision... Charlotte Palmer and Sarah Smith!”
For a split second, I can’t move. The words don’t compute. First place. We got first place.
Then Sarah screams and throws her arms around me, and suddenly I’m crying and laughing at the same time. We did it. We actually won.
The auditorium erupts in applause. Sarah pulls me to my feet, and we make our way onto the stage together, both of us grinning so wide my face hurts. Through the blur of happy tears, I see Koda on his feet, clapping and whistling louder than anyone else.
We won. We really won.
Professor Lowell hands us our certificates, and the weight of that piece of paper makes everything real. The photographer positions us for the official photo, and I can barely stand still, my whole body vibrating with joy.
The applause continues as we step off the stage. Jade rushes over to hug us both again, and then classmates are surrounding us, offering congratulations.
I feel like I’m floating. The baby moves inside me, a gentle roll, and I press my hand to my stomach.
“We did it, baby girl,” I whisper. “Your mama won.”
My mother’s voice echoes in my memory. You can do anything you set your mind to, Charlotte. I proved her right today.
Sarah pulls me into another hug. “I told you we’d crush it!”
“You did.” I’m laughing and crying at the same time. “I can’t believe we actually won.”
“Believe it, Palmer. We’re champions.”
Koda reaches us and sweeps me into his arms, spinning me around. When he sets me down, his hands frame my face like I’m something precious.
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were incredible up there. Absolutely incredible.”
“We won,” I say, the words still not feeling quite real. “We actually won, Koda.”
“I know, baby. I watched the whole thing. You were perfect. So calm, so confident. Like you were born to do this.”
This moment is perfect. Standing here with him, having just accomplished something I worked so hard for, knowing my daughter is right here experiencing it all with me. This is everything.
The baby gives me a particularly strong kick, and Koda’s hands drop to my stomach, feeling the movement.
“She’s celebrating too,” he says with that smile that makes my heart flutter.
“She kicked the whole time I was working. I think she was as nervous as I was.”
“Well, she can relax now. Her mama is officially a champion hairstylist.”
People keep stopping us to offer congratulations. Professor Lowell tells me how impressed the judges were. Other students ask questions about our practice routine. Sarah fields most of the questions, letting me bask in the glow of success.
Eventually, the immediate chaos starts to die down. The crowd begins to thin as people head to the reception area where champagne and appetizers await.
“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes,” I tell Koda, suddenly very aware of the pressure in my bladder. The baby has been pressing on it all morning, but the adrenaline kept me from noticing.
“You okay?” Koda asks, concerned.
“Fine. I just really need the bathroom. Pregnancy glamor at its finest.”
He laughs and kisses my forehead. “Go. I’ll save you some champagne. Well, sparkling cider for you and actual champagne for everyone else.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Sarah is already heading toward the reception with Jade. I wave them on and turn toward the hallway that leads to the main bathrooms.
I weave through the backstage area, past clusters of other students and their families still buzzing with excitement. The hallway stretches ahead of me, quieter than the chaos behind. My heels click against the polished floor. Everything feels possible right now. Everything feels perfect.
The bathroom door closes behind me with a soft whoosh, immediately muffling the distant celebration. I press my palms against the cool porcelain sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
First place.
The words still don’t feel completely real, even though my cheeks are still flushed from all the excitement.
My mother would have been so proud. The thought makes my eyes sting again.
I wish she could have been here. I wish I could have seen her face in the audience, seen her pride reflected back at me.
But maybe she was here in her own way.
I smooth my blonde hair and adjust my uniform top, making sure I look presentable. Time to get back out there and celebrate. Time to find Koda and bask in this incredible feeling of accomplishment a little longer before reality sets back in.
The hallway is quiet when I step out of the bathroom. Most people have moved to the reception area. I turn toward the main exit, already imagining Koda’s face when I finally let myself fully celebrate with him.
And then I see him.
My Dad is standing at the end of the hallway with a bouquet of yellow roses clutched in his weathered hands. His face lights up when he spots me, pride radiating from him like sunshine.
My stomach drops.
“Charlotte!” He rushes toward me with his arms outstretched. “My little girl, the champion hair stylist!”
The roses he’s carrying are crushed between us as my Dad pulls me into a bear hug.
“Dad,” I manage to squeak out, my voice muffled by his shirt. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting.”
My dad takes a step back and his smile lights up his entire face.
“I did. But at the last second, I changed my mind. I decided to come here and surprise you.” He looks down and touches my stomach gently with wonder. “But it looks like you have a surprise for me. Sweetheart, are you pregnant?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His face breaks into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, honey. I know you’re young, but if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He glances down the hallway. “Who’s the lucky guy? Is he here?”
His words make everything so much worse. He’s being so understanding, so perfect, and I’m about to destroy everything.
“Dad, I...”
The hallway suddenly feels too small, too airless.
Dad’s smile wavers slightly. “He’s sticking around, right? Because if not, I swear I’ll...”
I shake my head frantically.
“No, it’s not like that. He’s very involved. Very supportive.”
Relief floods Dad’s face. “So, when do I get to meet him?”
His hand is still on my shoulder, steady and warm like it’s been my entire life.
“He’s actually...” I start, but the words die as heavy footsteps echo down the hallway behind us.
Koda says, his deep voice carrying down the hallway. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Then he notices who I’m with, and everything in his posture shifts. His stride falters. His expression goes carefully neutral.
“Jason.”
I feel Dad’s body stiffen beside me. His arm drops away from my shoulders as his gaze moves between Koda and me. Back and forth, back and forth, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle but doesn’t want to know the answer.
“Dad,” I manage to whisper. “We need to talk.”
His eyes never leave Koda’s face. “About what, Charlotte?”
The question hangs between us. The moment stretches, elastic and fragile, ready to snap.
Koda moves to stand beside me, close but not touching. His presence is both comforting and terrifying. There’s no running from this now.
I force the words past the lump in my throat. “About the baby.”
Dad’s face transforms before my eyes.
The proud father who arrived with flowers disappears. His jaw tightens, and a muscle twitches beneath the skin. His gaze moves deliberately from my face to Koda’s, then down to my stomach, then back to his best friend’s face again.
Understanding dawns in his eyes like a cold sunrise.
The bouquet of yellow roses slips from his fingers and hits the linoleum floor with a soft thud that echoes like thunder in the silent hallway.
When Dad finally speaks again, his voice is so quiet I can barely hear it.
“Koda, are you the father of Charlotte’s baby?”