Chapter Eleven
Charli
On the ride home, I told Harper my plans were to skip school and go back to Kas. She was upset at first. I think she’s more or less scared of taking on college alone since I won”t be there. After she got over her sadness, she told me she understood. That if she were in my shoes, she would do the same. Especially after I mentioned the art school opportunity. She was all for it then. Though I could still see the lingering sadness in her eyes.
“I’m going to miss you. It”s always been you and me. What am I going to do without you?”
“I’ll see you every time you visit Grayson, and I promise to come home as much as I can. This is just what my heart is telling me I need to do. I’ve lived in a cold and empty house my whole life. The only reason I was in school was to make two people proud of me who couldn”t care less if I was there or not. For the first time, I feel the warmth of someone loving me with their whole being. That is where I belong… with Kas.” After the tears stopped rolling down her eyes, she gave me a small smile and a nod of understanding.
“I’m so happy for you, Charli. You deserve that love, and I hate that you”ve gone this whole time without knowing what it truly felt like. You hold on to Kas with your whole being. You belong together.”
After that, the rest of the ride home was pretty silent. We talked a bit about our summer but were too sad to fake a conversation. We just neither had the energy. We stopped twice, mainly talking to the guys on the phone, crying some more, getting gas, and then getting back on the road.
As we pull up to town, Harper seems as sad to see the city limits as I am.
“How can it go from being the only home we’ve ever known, to feeling like a prison keeping me away from where I truly belong?” she asks softly.
“Like a prison keeping you trapped from where your heart truly desires,” I say just as softly. I don”t tell her this town has always felt like a prison. I can”t wait to get my stuff and get the hell out of dodge.
It doesn”t take long to get to my house, and I dread opening the car door and walking through the obnoxious space that is my parents” home. I”m wondering what they are going to say. For once, will they even care that I was gone for months? I haven”t reached out to them at all this summer. Maybe this time, they will have noticed. I take a deep breath and walk in. I hear soft words coming from the kitchen, so I make my way toward them. Taking one more deep breath, I push open the swinging door to the kitchen. The first thing I notice is both my mother and father at the kitchen table. As always, Mom has files piled in front of her, and Dad has a computer. I wait for them to notice me, but of course, they don”t. I have to clear my throat three times, loudly, before they even look up. My mother barely spares me a glance before her eyes return to her tasks on the kitchen table. My father at least looks up and speaks, but what comes out of his mouth has my heart breaking in two.
“Oh, Charlette, you”re back?” My dad smiles, but his eyes don”t leave his computer. My breath catches. Wait, did they really notice I wasn”t here? They might have actually missed my presence? My hopes and dreams are crushed in the next moment at my mother”s voice.
“How was class? Didn”t you have a test today?”
My heart shatters. Tears well in my eyes, and for the first time, I don”t wipe them away. I don”t try to hide behind a yes ma’am, no sir, or fake smile. This time, I don”t stop the sob that releases from my throat.
“You don”t really care, do you? Either of you?” I ask, again receiving not even a glance.
“About what, Charlette? Your test? I just asked, didn”t I?” my mother says. My full name again. I’ve never heard her call me any other name. Not a darling, baby, dear, nothing. Just cold, impersonal, Charlotte.
That”s when it comes to me. They don”t care because, to them, it isn”t personal. It never has been. Their job was giving me money for things they thought I needed. Not wanted, needed, and I could stand here all day long and beg them to care and see me. I could rage and scream, throw things at the wall, but they would never budge because I am just as much a stranger to them as they are to me. I couldn”t tell you anything more personal about my parents than their appearance and names. They”ve made sure to not get too close. It”s time for me to just make the job easier for them.
“Mom, Dad, I do love you. Goodbye,” I say simply and turn around. I hear a “Mmhmm.” but that”s the only reply I get.
Making my way to my room as quickly as I can, I grab every bit of my art supplies that I can, a few clothes, and some of my and Harper”s memories. Zipping the two suitcases closed, I take one more look around. I”m not even sad about leaving this place; it”s always been too cold and bland for me. Shaking my head, I turn for the door and make my way down the stairs to the front door. Setting my bags down, I open the front door, look back toward the kitchen one last time, wipe the tears from my face, pick up my bags, and walk out.
Five hours later, I am parking out front of the diner, and a smile returns to my face for the first time since leaving this town. I’m home. I hop out of the car, take a deep breath, then race up the sidewalk and through the diner”s doors. I almost knock Al right over as I push through.
“Oh lord. Thank christ, you”re back. Can you please go handle your guy?” Al huffs, and I want to laugh at the once-timid wallflower. She would have never rolled her eyes or spoken up weeks ago. That was until…..
“Oh dear, she’s right. He’s been a sulking mess. Please get back there before he burns another pancake,” Barb says, passing by with a handful of plates. I laugh and race through the diner to get to the back.
I push through the doors, and my eyes find him immediately. His shoulders are sagging, and his head is bent. He’s sadly flipping an order of bacon, and honestly, I couldn”t be happier. He missed me. I clear my throat before speaking.
“I have a bone to pick with the chef. Apparently, he’s burning some pancakes back here.” I smile as Kas’s head whips around at my voice, and his whole body lights up.
He throws the spatula down and races toward me, enveloping me in the biggest hug I have ever received. Finally, I’m home.
“I missed you so much,” he says into my neck.
“I missed you more,” I say, kissing the scar on his cheek. When he finally pulls back, I see the pain in his eyes.
“I didn”t think you were going to come back.”
I shake my head at him before placing a small kiss on his lips and replying.
“Silly man, I will never not come back to you. You are my home. For always.”