Chapter 16 #2
Charlotte reached into her purse and pulled out a pile of papers before she laid them in front of their mother.
"Dan said his parents want me to sign this," she said with a sigh, her voice lacking the usual confidence.
"Don’t tell me he wants a prenup?" Their mom asked without even looking down at the stack.
"Yeah," Charlotte replied, her fingers traced the edge of the paper. "Do I sign it? Do I need to have someone look at it?"
As her mom held up the contract, my eyes scanned every line as fast as I could. Every clause, every line, all tailored to protect him. It might look fair to the average person, but it was one-sided, every word safeguarding his interests, his future. Not hers.
"Wait," I said, holding up a hand. "Don't sign that. That... That is lopsided."
Three pairs of eyes snapped to me, wide with surprise. Their expressions were pure shock. Maybe they figured I was just another jock, all athlete and no brains. I wasn’t sure what was going through their minds.
Charlotte's eyes were wide with a mixture of confusion and realization. I could almost hear the wheels turning in their minds, skeptical but trusting as she said curiously, “Lopsided?”
"Look here," I said, pointing to a certain section.
"And here. This is all for him. You need clauses that protect your savings, your future, even your time—if you take a break to raise kids, you should be compensated for that.
It's not just his contract," I continued, searching their faces to see if they were following.
"It's yours, too. You need to re-work this. To make it fair."
Caroline's mother was the first to break the silence that stretched, her voice laced with amusement and maybe even respect. "You really are a lawyer's kid, aren't you?"
"Guilty," I admitted. "Law has always been a bit of a fascination. My dad had a library filled with all his law books. Couldn't help but get sucked into it."
I glanced at Caroline. Her expression had crystallized into intrigue. Her mother and sister, meanwhile, seemed to be under some sort of spell, both finding a new energy.
"If you email it to my dad," I offered, "he can easily re-work it for you."
"Okay, can we keep you instead of Caroline?" Charlotte joked. Well, I wasn’t sure if she was actually joking.
Caroline's family continued to hang on my every word as if I was some strange otherworldly creature. Caroline sat there, her gaze flitting between me and her family.
"Wait a minute," Caroline’s mom changed the subject. "Isn't tomorrow the Bayside Ball?"
I turned toward Caroline. A sudden panic had taken over her features. Her mouth opened, a stuttering half-breath escaped, "Yeah but—"
"Surely you two are going together, aren't you?" Her sister interrupted with a judgy look.
"Of course we are," I said, the words slipping out before I had a chance to think about it. But the truth was, the Bayside Ball had been so far removed from my cluttered thoughts, buried deep underneath the championship game, shit with my mom, the upcoming draft, and everything else lately.
Caroline leaned back, with a weak smile as she nodded in agreement. But that look on her face did not escape me—there was a sadness in her eyes. Was it reluctance or regret? Did she not want to go with me? Did she want to go with someone else? My mind raced, but I held back the flood of questions.
"Oh good," Charlotte added, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. "You two are going to be the talk of the town."
Eventually, we all rose from our seats. Caroline's mother and sister strode off toward their cars as we said our goodbyes, and I walked Caroline to her car.
"Your mom seems… nice," I ventured, not taking my eyes off her for a second. I didn’t really sense the whole mother-daughter bond, but Caroline’s mom and sister both had the same cold and distant thing going on.
She clenched her firsts, holding her keychain in one hand.
"It's… been like this for as long as I can remember.
My mom—" Caroline's fists unclenched, and her hands trembled slightly.
"It feels like she's always hated me. My sister always went along with it because they loved her more, gave her more attention. And my dad? He never stood up for me. Didn’t even notice that he should. "
“That’s tough,” I said, slowly starting to understand her a little more. Caroline wasn’t evil. She was guarded because she’d learned to be, to protect herself.
"The only person I ever had was my brother.
" Her eyes searched mine for something, maybe understanding.
"He was nice to me. But my mom hates that I'm a cheerleader, and despises that I still have anything to do with it.
" She paused, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.
"And I don't even know why I'm telling you this. "
"Was your mom a cheerleader?"
She shook her head. "No. She tried out every year and never made the team. Loves reminding me how ungrateful I am for being one. Says I take it for granted," she spat out with a humorless laugh.
I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around her. She stiffened for a second—then sank into me, like she was finally letting go. Her body fit against mine like it belonged there, the scent of peach shampoo and rain wrapping around me, making it impossible to think about anything else.
"Why are we hugging?" Her voice was muffled against my chest. The last time we were this close, I felt her wild pulse beneath my fingertips, our bodies no more than a breath apart.
Since that moment, I'd been practically praying for another chance to be this close to her again.
As her head rested against me, I felt the tension in her muscles slowly start to unravel.
"Because," I said, pulling back an arm and tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You looked like you needed one."
She froze, her breath hitching as she kept her eyes locked on mine.
"Listen to me. Your mom... she's jealous. You're everything she wanted to be. And instead of dealing with that, she's taking it out on you."
Her expression flickered—sadness twisting into something uncertain, like she was turning my words over in her head. Then, finally, she nodded. And damn, if it didn’t feel like a punch to the gut.
"I never thought about it that way," she murmured. "Even if it’s not true… thank you for saying it."
Then, just like that, she let go. Stepped back. The walls snapped back into place like she’d realized I’d seen too much. And I hated that she thought she had to do that.
"Caroline," I began, the words coming out softer than I expected, "are you okay with us going to the ball together?"
For a moment, she paused, her hand lingering on the door handle before she finally opened it. "You and I..." she repeated slowly like she was processing the thought. "Go together?"
A chuckle escaped me as I leaned against her car, my arm casually resting on the edge of the open door as she slid into the driver's seat.
"Yeah, that's normally how it works," I said, trying to hide my confusion in humor. Why was she acting so strange about this? Why was she so hesitant? It was just a dance.
She hesitated, not looking me in the eye. "You don’t already have a date?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. "I figured you'd have a lineup of women."
She looked like some adorable creature in the woods, caught in the glare of headlights, ready to bolt but carefully staying put. And there was something about the way she framed the question, like she was searching for an excuse, any reason to not go with me.
"Nah," I said, pushing back. "The girl I wanna take is right in front of me."
The silence stretched taut between us before she smiled, but it held no joy. Her fingers rested lightly on the ignition, hesitating just long enough to make my chest tighten. "How about I meet you there?"
Something wasn’t right about the way she said that, and it sent a prickle down my spine. I caught the sadness lurking behind those lashes. What was she hiding?
“Why wouldn’t I come pick you up?”
She dragged her teeth across her lower lip. “I have committee stuff to do,” she murmured, dragging her seatbelt slowly across her body. “I have to give out the awards, set up some things, so… I’ll just meet you there.”
It was a good excuse—practical, believable. But it still didn’t sit right.
Her voice was too soft, her words too carefully chosen, like she planned them.
I leaned in slightly, studying her, watching as her fingers gripped the steering wheel again just a little too tightly. "You sure about that?"
Her shoulders stiffened, but she forced a quick nod, keeping her eyes on the dashboard like looking at me would somehow give something away.
My jaw twitched, the unease growing. “Did I do something?” I asked, softer this time. “Because it kind of feels like I did.”
She shook her head too quickly. “No. Nothing at all.”
She was a terrible liar. But I knew her well enough to know that she didn’t want me to push further. And when her mind was set on something, she didn’t seem like the type to let anyone change it. But not knowing what I’d done to make her pull away? That was the worst part.
“Alright, I'll see you there," I finally said, playing along, and gently pushed her car door until it clicked shut.