2. CHARLOTTE
2
H e’s the bad boy of the school, and even though we’ve never spoken any more than we did today, I can’t deny I’ve noticed his handsome appearance walking through the halls.
I do have eyes, after all.
He walks away, his damp shirt still slightly plastered to his muscled back. As if he feels my eyes scanning his body, he turns with a smug look, giving me a devastating wink. The boy is hot, with his broad shoulders and buff arms.
With my lips still pressed together I smile, rolling my eyes, then turn around and walk into my house to shake off the giddy feeling he just fired up.
I find my mama behind the stove, a hint of garlic settled in the entire kitchen. Her face is pale and worn out, but she’s attempted to cover it up with make-up.
She looks better than she has in the last week. She’s dressed in jeans and a sweater, her flowing blonde hair framing her fatigued expression that she hides behind a full smile when she sees me entering the kitchen.
“Hi, Mama, you cooking dinner?” I don’t remember the last time she cooked for me, simply because life is hard when you are in and out of the hospital most of the time.
“Yeah, your favorite! Five more minutes!” She claps with excitement, and a wide smile takes up residence on my face. It’s nice to see my mom like this. Energetic. Happy. Cooking .
If I didn’t know she was as white as snow underneath all that make-up, I wouldn’t even know she was ill.
“So, you’re feeling good today?” I cuddle into her side as she plants a kiss on my hair, before I break loose and take a seat on the breakfast bar of the white marble island.
“Yeah! I feel like myself today.” Her eyes are bright blue like they used to be all the time.
“That makes me happy.”
“Who was the boy?” she casually asks as she lowers some chicken into the frying pan.
“You spying on me, Mama?” I cock my head, slightly irritated by the fact that she must have been peeking out of the window, but then I catch myself, realizing it’s a blessing that she’s able to in the first place.
“Just saw you coming home.” She flashes me a sweet smile, reminding me I should cherish these conversations. They might get on my nerves right now, but one day, I might not be able to have them anymore, the past being a constant reminder of that.
“His name is Hunter Hansen,” I disclose.
“He’s cute.”
“Oh, please.”
“What? He is! And he definitely likes you.” A knowing look washes over her face as she glances at me while stirring the oil in the frying pan. A blush appears on her faded cheeks and the corner of her mouth slightly curls. Any normal seventeen-year-old would be dreading a moment like this, discussing boys with their mother, but seeing a smile on her face warms me inside, making me wish there was more to tell.
“He doesn’t like me,” I argue. “I was reading at the creek, and he just happened to be there and we started talking. He had a rough day. I’m sure he won’t even notice me when we’re back at school tomorrow.”
“I don’t know. Looks like love at first sight to me. ”
“That doesn’t exist, Mama.” That only happens in fairy tales, and if my childhood taught me anything, it’s that fairy tales only happen in books.
She stays quiet, lifting the fried chicken onto two plates, then pours us both a glass of freshly made sweet tea. She takes the seat next to me, making me beam at her in excitement.
“This looks so good, Mama. Thank you.” I wait until she settles in her chair before I pick up a piece, tearing off the crispy skin to pop it in my mouth. The herby flavor is everything I remember it to be, and I savor the bite fully before digging in.
There isn't anything better than my Mama’s fried chicken.
I let out a satisfied breath as Mama meets my gaze, matching my expression.
“I think he’s interested,” she discloses.
A pang of hope flicks inside of me, but I push it away. “Even if he is interested, I’m sure it’s just to get in my pants.”
“Don’t be so sure, honey. I’ve seen that look before.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “what look is that?”
“The look of a man that wants to know what ticks you.” Her gaze turns dreamy as she stares out of the window as if she’s recalling a memory. “A man who wants to peel back all your layers, one by one. And I’m not talking about your pants. Although I’m sure he won’t say no if you offer.”
She shoots me a look and I laugh.
“He has girls lining up for him.”
“Exactly.” She tears off a piece of chicken before she points her slender finger at me. “And the reason you are not makes him interested.”
“Hmm, I doubt it,” I tell her. But right in that moment, a current of something ripples through my heart, lifting all the hairs on the back of my neck. Because deep down, I’m wondering if maybe she’s right.
* * *
I’m sitting on the cobblestone wall next to the front door of my high school, reading a book while I wait for Julie to be done with her last class. The September sun is warming my face, while my sunglasses protect my eyes from the blinding light reflecting off the words on the page.
“What are you doing?” a voice booms in my ear, making my heart jump out of my chest, and I slap it with my hand as my book falls to the floor. My gaze meets Hunter’s hazel-brown eyes with suspicion, and a weird look of familiarity stares back at me, as if he’s been my friend since the first grade.
Hunter grabs my book with a pleased smirk, brushing off any attached dirt against his jeans and handing it back to me.
“Jesus, now who sneaks up on who?” I glare, ripping my book from his grasp.
He ignores my scowl, taking a seat next to me on the wall, his feet dangling as he shows me a wide grin. I can’t help but chuckle when I finally glance back at him, opening my book again. Lowering my focus to the words, I use it as a strategy to avoid his gaze and pretend I’m cool as a Colorado winter, but in reality, I’m anything but that. Every nerve on my skin feels like it’s waking up from hibernation, moving from the top of my head all the way down to the very tips of my toes.
What the hell, Charlotte? It’s just a boy.
“Are you going to the bonfire tonight?” Hunter softly pulls the book out of my hands, placing it behind him, before turning his focus back on me. Then he boldly reaches up to grab my sunglasses, placing them in my hair, forcing me to look at him without any barriers.
A black Yankees snapback covers his short brown hair, and he lifts it up to put it back on backwards, raising his eyebrows as he waits for my response.
Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, I need a few thumping heartbeats to collect my thoughts .
“Why do you care?” I finally say with slightly narrowed eyes. Hunter Hansen can spend his nights with almost every girl in our class, yet here he is asking what I’m doing with my time? It makes no sense.
“I thought we could hang out?”
“Since when do we hang out?” My eyebrows reach the top of my hairline, wondering if I missed something over the last three years we’ve been in high school together. He’s the rebel, the player who has a side job kicking ass in underground cage fights. It’s hard to miss him as he struts through the school with the attitude of a king in the making, but I’m the girl who mostly has her nose in a book.
I’m not surprised he didn’t notice me before.
I’m surprised he does now.
“Since you told me you were there if I needed you,” he explains, as he starts to draw circles with his fingers on my ripped jeans. His affectionate touch is unexpected, just like it was yesterday when he ran his hand through my hair, but somehow it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It feels good.
“To talk,” I deadpan.
“Well, I want to talk to you at the bonfire.”
“About what?”
“Does it matter?” His eyes move back up to mine.
“Whatever.” I playfully roll my eyes, still curious as to why he has a sudden interest in me.
“I really thought you were a girl of your word.” He challenges me with his entire stance, while his eyes are cheerfully holding my gaze.
“You really going there?”
“Come on, humor me,” he pleads.
He’s hard to resist when he looks at me like that, filled with anticipation, as if he can’t do anything without me. I’m not going to lie, it kinda makes me feel special .
“Do I have to?” I taunt, matching his stance.
“Don’t be such a bore.”
“Fine. Julie will drag me out, anyway. So, yeah, I’ll go.” I finally give in, and a beaming smile comes my way as he gets back up.
“Alright, I’ll see you there.” He gives me a half wave as he’s getting ready to walk away.
“Why, though?” I ask, still too curious about the sudden interest in little old me.
A hint of amusement crosses his face, followed by an arrogant smirk that makes it hard for me to keep my stoic gaze.
“I wanna see if you see the difference between my normal face and my ‘just fucked’ face.” He winks as he backs away from me.
“God, I hope not.” I gag, sticking my tongue out, suppressing my laugh.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he replies, then turns around, finally walking away.
“Okay, bye.” I chuckle, opening my book again, then press my lips together to hide the bemusement stirring around my organs.
The letters form words, but somehow, I can’t stop grinning, looking at the pages without reading a single thing.
I never necessarily had an interest in any of the boys at my high school, but yesterday I saw a different side of Hunter Hansen that melted my normally socially detached heart. Talking to him feels natural, like I have the freedom to tell him my biggest secrets and he would keep them safe.
Not that I have any.
I can’t resist glancing up, my eyes roaming the parking lot until I meet his gaze again right before he gets into his black truck. He salutes me with another arrogant smirk when he catches me staring.
“Since when are you talking to Hunter Hansen? ”
I look up next to me, seeing Julie watch Hunter drive away with a deep frown until she places herself in front of me, just like he did two minutes ago.
“I’m not.” I do my best to keep a straight face as I close my book and tuck it in my backpack.
“Really? Because that was Hunter Hansen you exchanged a longing look with just now. What? The rude prick didn’t even introduce himself properly?”
She shoots me a look, her blonde hair lighting up by the sun, telling me I’m full of shit.
“Shut up,” I say, ignoring her big Bambi eyes that I know are staring me down, while I keep my focus on the movements of my hands.
“What?” I blurt when I finally look up.
“You’re a shit liar, Charlie. Always have been.”
I suck in a deep breath, not even sure what to say. So he asked if I’m going to the bonfire tonight? It’s a public thing, and every senior in town is going to be there.
It’s not like he asked me out on a date.
Right?
“We got to talking yesterday. He found me reading at the creek and he walked me home,” I confess, trying to be as casual as possible about it.
Her lashes fly up in surprise before her pearly teeth split her face.
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like that.”
I get up, ready to go, but she keeps her ass planted where it is. I glare back at her, hoping she will back down and follow in silence, but unfortunately, I’m not so lucky. She decisively crosses her arms in front of her body, silently telling me she’s not going anywhere until I tell her everything.
“These are the moments I wish I had my own car,” I mumble, wrapping my arms around my body .
“But you don’t. So start spilling or start walking, woman!” she squeals with a fake scowl, making me chuckle at her forward approach.
“He asked if we were going to the bonfire tonight.”
“We? I’m pretty sure he has no clue who I am, so you mean you.”
“Fine,” I admit. “Me.”
She starts clapping like a seal, as if she just won the lottery, and a growl escapes my throat, slightly annoyed by her excessive behavior.
“Oh my god, Hunter Hansen has the hots for you.” She gets up, linking her arm with mine as she starts walking us to her car.
“He really doesn’t.”
“Ah, you’re cute when you’re in denial.”
“I’m not in denial!” I think.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that, girlfriend.” She chuckles, and it’s filled with mischief.