Chapter Two. #2
When practice ends, I search for Ben one last time, but his bike isn’t here. Hopefully he just went home already. He lives in the country on a farm about ten minutes away from my house and twenty minutes from school.
Ben’s independent, even more than me. Between never being in trouble, getting good grades and how focused his parents are on farm work and their side business endeavors, they pretty much leave him to his own devices.
His parents own a local butcher shop in town where everyone buys their antibiotic-free meat and another small store where they sell fresh homemade ice cream, butter and milk.
It’s great food but it takes up a lot of their time.
They don’t make him a lower priority out of ignorance or not caring for him, but he gets put to the wayside more than a kid should.
Sometimes I feel bad for him, but he’s never told me their actions bug him.
He’s an only child so he likes being a loner, or so he says. Who am I to question that?
I can’t relate to him in the slightest, in that regard.
My parents are my best friends and never miss anything, always showing up for me no matter how big or small the moment.
They’re the most supportive parents in the world.
That’s probably another reason why I'm okay not having anyone else close in my life besides Ben.
Who I have is enough for me. Why complicate it?
I pull into the driveway and park in the garage.
My parents always leave a space for me so I don’t get rained on if the weather’s crap.
Living in Washington, we’re always prepared for pop-up rain showers.
Although, my hometown, Roslyn, is one of the drier towns in this state, we still get thirty percent more rain than the rest of the United States.
On cue, a roll of thunder claps overhead.
Sigh.
At least the rain waited until after practice this time. I hate running in wet shorts. Even though I’m slender, my thighs still chaff so much when I run, it’s unreal. I can’t imagine being one of the girls with thick thighs who deal with it on a regular basis. That would suck.
Huh, Dad isn’t home.
It’s unusual his car’s gone at this hour but maybe he had a late meeting today.
He’s usually in the kitchen waiting to greet me first thing as I walk in the door so we can start the weekend off celebrating, but to be honest, it’s a relief he’s not home right now.
I’m in no mood to celebrate the weekend being here.
I’m in no mood to celebrate anything, actually.
I just want to lay on my bed and waste the days away until I figure out what I'm going to do with my life.
I jiggle the door handle for the house, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. Mom must be with him too. They both must’ve had a meeting with their agents or something.
Oh well.
This will make it easier for me to wallow in self-pity which I’m oddly looking forward to. I rarely get opportunities like this without them trying to cheer me up. Sometimes I just want to feel sad, you know?
My keys chink against the metal doorknob, a sharp click confirming the lock releases. I drop my keys on the kitchen island along with my backpack and spot a stack of envelopes and folders on the kitchen table.
Rain pounds on the window glass accompanied by constant deep rumbles of thunder. Lightning strikes dramatically, lighting up the papers like a scene out of a horror movie.
Was this our mail for the day or were these materials for their books?
Do I dare hope? Maybe this is it. This could be what I’ve been waiting for.
My shallow breaths mismatch my long strides toward the table, my heart thudding painfully against my ribcage.
I inhale a deep breath to steady my shaking hands and grab the stack of mail.
I sift through it slowly, tears welling up from overwhelming disappointment as each unremarkable folder and envelope drag me further from my dream.
About to lose hope, I shuffle through them faster until I reach the last one, a large manilla folder with a return address to Charle’s College. All the other rejections were small letters or short emails. Dare I dream? Did I get accepted into Charle’s?
My feet pound up the staircase in a hurry so I can be alone in case my parents walk in. I want this moment to myself so I can process the outcome in my own way.
I sit at my computer desk, intently studying the folder in my hand. The rough wavy edges reveal it was caught in the rain more than a few times, drying over and over again.
My shaking index finger slides under the folder’s opening on the left side and slowly drags it to the right to avoid a paper cut. The stack of white papers idly waits for me to make my move since no words yet show my fate.
Deep breath. Either way it’s going to be okay. I’ll be okay.
If only I could believe myself…
My fingertips clasp onto the paper’s top edges and pull.
Congratulations Charlotte Windsor,
You have been accepted to Charle’s College for the academic class of 2030.
Welcome!
I didn’t even bother reading the rest before screaming, “YES!” My arms swing and my knees practically hit my chest as I jump up and down, unable to contain the excitement while the papers, still in my grasp, flail wildly.
A sigh of relief escapes.
I’m not a failure. Thank God.
I immediately grab my phone and text Ben.
Coming to a standstill, I try to catch my breath as I watch three little dots appear in the text message chain.
Eek!
I press the phone close to my chest and close my eyes, rolling my lips in to contain the overwhelming emotions pouring out of me.
Yes. This is worth celebrating. I rarely make a big deal out of things, but he’s right to remind me that I deserve to celebrate this.
This is huge. And now it’s confirmed Ben and I won’t be going to college too far away from each other so we can still hang out and have future celebrations.
Charle’s is only thirty minutes away from Wyvern.
Before I can text back what I intended to, something else came out of its’ own free will. Something I’ve never dared ask him straight out.
Oh God. What did I just do?
My breath hitches, my eyes widening at the words on the screen. I hurl my phone on the bed like a hot potato and back away in horror.
Why did I send that? Why did I type that? I’ve never asked him straightforward questions about his relationship. Why do I suddenly care right now?
My phone landed face down, inhibiting me from seeing if he was typing back.
With one arm crossing around my waist, holding my other’s elbow, my teeth nervously scrape against my thumbnail.
But the bounce in my feet and sharp bite against my nail is doing nothing to starve off this awkward, nervous energy.
Gah! It’s like the phone’s calling to me, telling me to pick it up. I want to look but I also don’t want to look.
Should I go downstairs to distract myself and then lie to him by saying my parents came home so that’s why I didn’t respond for a while? That way I completely avoid an entire conversation about his relationship?
The front door shuts downstairs and my parents’ voices travel up the staircase. I guess it wouldn’t be a complete lie…
Yet, as I turn to walk out my bedroom door, my body once again does something of its’ own accord, conspiring against me.
I quietly shut the door for privacy instead of going downstairs, wander over to my bed and lay down on my stomach, resting on my elbows with my feet hanging off the edge. I flip the phone over to reveal one unread text from Benny Boy.
My heartbeat picks up like the gun just sounded at the start of a race. Breathless, I tap his text.
Sharp pin pricks gather under my skin and spread throughout every inch of me. Good God, did they turn the heat on? What is this feeling? Jealousy? Embarrassment? Maybe it’s both.
Seeing him confirm they still hook up even after being broken up sets a heaviness in my chest that anchors down into my stomach. I didn’t realize he did that sort of thing.
I always viewed him as more of the innocent type. I mean, I heard he had sex, but that was from rumors around school and gossip in the girl’s locker room. Hearing it from him directly made it more real, more devastating. I don’t know how to feel about it. How do I even respond to him now?
A knock pulls me from my racing thoughts.
“Charlotte, you here?” Mom says softly, sticking her head in through the small crack she made in the doorframe. “I see we got some more mail. Any luck?”
I place my phone face down, covering it with a blanket to hide the embarrassing conversation. Not like my parents ever go through my phone, but still… I don’t want her accidentally seeing it and asking uncomfortable questions.
With the phone safely hidden, I shoot up and grab the papers, holding them up to show her with a wide grin on my face. Without saying anything, she rushes over and embraces me in a comforting, tight hug.
“I knew it was only a matter of time, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
I bury my face in her hair, my nerves and adrenaline relaxing instantly from breathing in the smell of her lavender shampoo. Man, I needed this hug. She always holds the longest, never letting go first.
When I finally let go and lean back, an expression of pure joy is on her face.
“Thanks, Momma. It’s been tough lately but hearing I finally got in somewhere is going to pull me out of this slump. I just know it.”
Her warm palm lingers on my cheek as she takes me in, analyzing me. I stare back into her glasslike blue eyes, wondering what she’s searching for. They water like she’s about to cry so I graze my thumb under them to wipe away any wetness that may fall.
“Oh, look at me being a big baby,” she sniffles, standing up straight and pulling herself together. “Do you want to come downstairs and tell your father? You know he’s going to make a huge fuss about it.” She winks.