Chapter Nine.
I toss and turn all night, moving in between sleeping and waking from either being turned on at the thought of Ben, making me want to spend some quality time with the biker boy to satisfy that desire or angry at him and my father.
At least I have no plans for the day until Jared’s party so I can rot in bed if I want to.
Ugh, Jared’s party. I was looking forward to it yesterday until Ben’s comment. Now the thought of going makes me feel guilty, which is absurd because it’s not wrong to go. Jared’s my friend and even if he does like me or if I end up liking him, it doesn’t matter.
It’s none of anyone's damn business, I stubbornly declare.
The dread of facing reality keeps me in bed until eleven, sulking and irritable. I hate that Ben holds the power to make me feel this way, completely ruining my mood and motivation.
“Ughhh…”
Uttering a groan, I sit up in bed and plant my feet on the hardwood, letting the coolness sink into my skin.
That’s it. Enough. I’m giving myself one more hour to sulk and then I’m going to buck up and get excited for the graduation party.
The rest of the day drags by, the excitement never coming like I hoped. Sick of the stuck mood, I go on a run to clear my head and then join Mom for lunch while Dad works at some writer’s conference. Apparently, he talked to Mom last night about Ben being over, and he was not happy.
Apparently it took her hours to calm him down and convince him not to ground me this entire weekend nor ban Ben from the house.
“Ban him from the house? Isn’t that a bit excessive?” I scoff, raising my eyebrow.
“Honey, it was one in the morning, and he snuck into your room. Can you blame him? Ben should’ve known better.”
“It’s not like we were doing anything. He wanted to talk to me about something, but he wanted to do it in person. I don’t see the big deal.”
“And why couldn’t he have come over during normal hours to have that conversation? Don’t be so naive, honey.”
Anger bubbles in the pit of my stomach, fit to burst. If one more person speaks to me in this condescending tone, I swear I’m going to lose it.
“When will everyone stop talking to me like I’m a child,” I yell at her. “Ben’s been my best friend since we were kids. You know him. Plus, I’m old enough to have boys in my room if I want.”
She turns the car off in the driveway but makes no move to get out. She releases a deep sigh, running her fingers through her hair and frowns at me in disappointment, stirring my anger further.
“What’s with that look?” I snap.
I’ve never talked to her like this before in my life, but I can’t help it.
People need to let me grow up. I can’t always be who they want me to be.
That innocent girl who always does what she’s told and keeps to herself…
I’m not her anymore. I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s gone, and I’m glad for it.
“Charlotte, stop it,” she snaps back.
I sit back and cross my arms across my chest defiantly, looking forward to avoid her heated stare.
“Yes, you are eighteen, but that does not give you the right to disrespect your father and I in our house. Yes, you are an adult by societal standards, but you still need to respect the fact that we pay for the clothes on your back, feed you and provide a roof over your head. We are not to adhere to your rules, but you to ours. I’ve stood up for you to your father lately, but don’t push me away.
Don’t force me to set stricter boundaries in place because you feel entitled.
I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, and I don’t care.
No boys are allowed in your room at any point.
You will not talk to either I or your father like this anymore.
Once you are away at college, you can do as you like. Do you understand?”
Sadness rings in her voice behind the strict tone, like quiet choked sobs are being held back. She always hates it when we fight, and this is definitely the worst fight we’ve had. Great, I’ve made my mother cry. Am I turning into a bad daughter? A bad friend? A bad person?
I nod, silently agreeing to her conditions without looking at her and get out of the car to go up to my room. This crushing weight on my chest and knot in my throat is unbearable. I need to talk to someone other than my parents right now or I’m going to die inside.
There’s only one person who can make me feel better in this moment. I don’t care what’s happening between us, I need him right now. I need us right now.
The first ring barely finishes before he answers.
“Hey.”
That’s all it takes. Tears fall down my cheeks as labored breaths break through between sobs.
“Char, what’s wrong? What happened?” His voice laces with concern.
In between hitched breaths, I tell him everything. He stays quiet until I’m completely done and all that can be heard over the phone is my soft sobs.
“You are not a horrible person, Char. You and your family are just going through growing pains. I’m dealing with similar stuff on my end with my parents.
It’s not easy shedding your old life for a new one, but it’ll be worth it.
I guarantee when you fully grow into your new self that you’ll still be the great person you are, and you and your parents will be back to being your regular old selves.
You just have to understand that growth and change can’t occur without pain.
It sucks but it’s reality. You just have to stick it out and push through the good and the bad.
Don’t set too many expectations and ride the waves. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
A slight whimper slips out as the cries lesson, relief washing over me. He’s right. I’m going to be okay. My parents and I are going to be okay. I’m going to change and grow as I get older; it’s just going to be way more painful than I want it to be.
“Thanks, Ben. You always know what to say. And thank you for picking up the phone even though we’ve fought a lot lately…” I pause. “We’re going to be okay too, right?”
A motorcycle revs outside the house, drowning out the rest of my sentence. No way he rode over here while we were on the phone. I race downstairs, still clutching the phone in my hand with him on the call and fling open the door.
There he is in his black leather bike pants and red bike jacket, kicking down the kickstand on his red and black Ducati.
He lifts his leg over the seat and gives me a simple wave as he leans on his bike.
Before he gets the chance to unhook his helmet, I’m already wrapped around his torso, giving him the biggest hug and melting into him for comfort.
His muffled chuckle vibrates my chest as he hugs me back, setting his head, still in the bike helmet, on top of mine and squeezing me back just as tightly. I bury my face in his jacket, his scent of mint and leather calming me, relaxing my body bit by bit.
“It’s okay,” he says, stroking my back softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
I squeeze him harder, afraid that if I let go, he’ll disappear.
Time stops as we hold each other. His easy breaths keep the rhythm steady to calm my own. I don’t keep track of how long we embrace, and he’s kind enough to keep holding me until I loosen my grip.
Moving out from under his helmet, I flip his vizor up to see his eyes, my left hand still on his waist and his on mine.
His eyes crease, twinkling before softening as he raises his hand up and grazes the tears left running down my cheeks.
The grip patches on his motorcycle gloves are like sandpaper, making small claims into my skin with each caring stroke of his thumb.
I grab his gloved hand and smush it against my cheek, closing my eyes, thanking him silently for being exactly what I need right now.
He pulls his hand away, tilting my chin up to look into his eyes.
They’re back to being playful as he slowly moves his hand toward my nose and gives it a quick flick.
I retaliate by slapping his vizor down and letting out a giggle.
“I’m glad I got you to smile,” he chortles. Suddenly, his demeanor changes and even with his face hidden beneath the helmet, my body can sense it.
My cheeks blush heat as a bolt of adrenaline rushes through my body at the lower tone in his voice. I reach to pull his vizor up again, but my phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me. It’s Shirley.
“Girllll, when are you heading over to Jared’s? Wanna ride together?”
Shit.
I completely forgot about the party after the fight with my mom. I pull my phone back from my ear and check the time. It’s already four-thirty and it takes me at least twenty minutes to get there.
“Hey Shirl! No, I’m gonna drive separately. I’m running a little late. I’ll text you when I leave, okay?”
“Ok, but don’t be too late, because I need you to be my wing woman! That way Jared and I have the rest of his party to hopefully hook up.”
“Sounds good,” I chuckle awkwardly and end the call.
“You’re still going to Jared’s?” he questions, disappointment painting his tone.
“I have to. I already promised him and Shirley I would go.” I wish I didn’t have to lingers on the tip of my tongue but remains unspoken.
Any meek feelings that existed under the surface for Jared are gone. Even the biker boy seems like a distant memory of obsession right now.
“Stay with me,” he pleads softly, grabbing my waist a little more firmly.
“I can’t,” I whimper, swallowing the lump in my throat.
But God, do I wish I could stay with him.
Every fiber of my being is telling me to stay and say the hell with Jared’s party, but I promised myself I’d make friends and if I just slip back into my old habits I’ll be screwed once Ben leaves for college.
“If I didn’t promise them I’d go, I’d stay with you, I swear. But I can’t ditch Shirley. She’s counting on me tonight.” Anxiety has my tongue flicking over my bottom lip and chewing on it.
“Let me give you a ride there.” His hips press themselves into mine making my elbows the only thing creating any space between us.
My mouth gapes open.
“Ben, you have never asked me to ride your motorcycle. I‘ve been begging you for years and you’ve never let me. Now, of all times, you’re asking me to ride with you?”
I’m in complete shock. What’s he trying to play at with this offer? I mean, I’m stoked, but like, what are his intentions behind this?
He doesn’t respond, instead shrugging his shoulders. “Do you want to or not?”
Oh good, the bite in his tone is back. I was worried there for a second that he was being too nice.
My jaw clenches and a grimace appears in annoyance.
I want to ride with him more than anything, but I also don’t want to be the one who brings an unwanted guest to a party.
Ben and Jared have never interacted well, and my gut’s telling me if I brought Ben, it’d ruin the party or cause unneeded drama, which I do not need any more of in my life right now.
“I’m sorry. I promise I will next time, but I’m just gonna drive to Jared’s in my car. Can we ride tomorrow instead, before or after your-?”
“Are you afraid of Jared seeing us together?” he interjects.
My stomach sinks. Here we go.
I can’t believe he’s acting this way when he knows what I’ve been dealing with today. Tears well up in my eyes again.
I hate this part of me. In the rare times I’ve cried in my life, the tears always come back super easily for the next day or so. It’s like once the valve’s open it takes a while for it to shut again, which makes me look like a crybaby and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Ben, please,” I plead, fresh tears streaming down my face.
“I’m sorry, Char.” His voice softens. “I’m not sure when we can ride together, but I’ll let you know. Call me if you need me tonight though, okay? No matter how late.”
I nod, giving him another tight hug. I inhale deeply and bury my face into his chest, gently scratching my cheek on his leather jacket. The roughness on the back of his jacket lumps up under my fingertips, making it hard to grab him, but I push against their resistance to keep him close.
“Oh, crap.” I can’t believe I forgot I was in a rush. “I gotta go!”
I let go but am held back as he hangs on, obviously letting me go begrudgingly. His grip barely loosens, his touch lingering on my arm.
Racing toward the house to get ready, an empty crack makes itself known from already missing his touch.
I turn at the door to wave at him, but the motorcycle already started up, only giving me a glimpse of his back as he speeds off.
Sadness and loneliness threaten to creep back in. I do wish he could go with me tonight.
I shut the door along with my thoughts. No. Tonight’s about fun. No self-pity, no complicated thoughts. I need to enjoy tonight with my peers because this may be the last time I see any of them. I’m not going to overthink about Ben, Jared, my biker guy or anything.
Rummaging through my closet to find something to wear, I choose to forgo the dress. It feels wrong to wear a dress to his party after my intimate moment with Ben and what it might imply to Jared if I do wear one. I don’t want to draw any attention from Jared that way anymore.
My feet bounce off the floor one by one as I dance on my faded skinny jeans with holes in the knees, slip on my flat black tennis shoes, and throw on a cute black tank top.
I grab my all-black sweatshirt to take in case it drops in temperature and to cover up if I get uncomfortable.
I’ve never been to a graduation party but I’m assuming they can go pretty late.
Sprint hopping down the stairs, I say nothing to my parents and nervously take off to my first party experience.