Chapter 39
December 2007
Charlotte
I’ve felt more like myself this last week. I no longer let thoughts of Zach consume me. The anger and hurt are still there; I don’t think they will ever completely leave me. They are just another scar on my heart, a permanent reminder that it does indeed still beat and is capable of feeling.
But thanks to the constant pep talks from Rebecca, Savvy, Dr. T, and Genny, I’m feeling stronger.
I’m not the problem—he is. I held up my end of the bargain. I loved him. I was faithful. I was loyal. I would’ve become a born-again virgin waiting for him if I had to. His choices aren’t on me.
I’m done shedding my soul for a man who couldn’t be bothered to offer me the same in return. I deserve more. I deserve better. As Genny suggested, I repeat these things daily in the mirror, and today is one of the days that I actually believe them.
I can do this. I can heal. I can move forward without drugs.
I wave my hand feverishly at my wet toes, Bashfully Yours is the color of the week. I’ve taken to giving myself weekly pedicures. Not only does it keep Ursula from appearing and wreaking havoc, but it also pumps up my self-confidence. I soaked my tootsies in a warm bowl of epsom salt and water, when they were nice and soft, I tore into them with a pumice stone. These babies are now smooth as silk, and I wanted a more delicate change from last week’s Tornado Alley Green.
My phone beeps with an incoming text.
Rebecca : Hey girl, I’m not feeling so well. Again, I’m sorry to bail. I’m going to skip the movie tonight and just rest. I’ll text you later when I’m feeling better.
My mouth twists in disappointment. Rebecca has been really flakey lately. I’m trying not to take it too personally. I know she’s busy, and she probably has other friends. But she’s kinda my only friend, at school at least, so when she cancels on me, it’s noticeable.
I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone, but she’s been very hush-hush about it. I see how she giggles at anything related to relationships and love.
If we see a happy couple, she swoons over the sight. If we watch a rom-com, she coos at the unrealistic insta-love. She is basically walking around with hearts in her eyes twenty-four-seven. It’s annoying. Especially because I’m pretty anti-love at the moment.
When I asked about the pep in her step, she simply waved me off, but a deep blush set into her cheeks. I didn’t press. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Me : Oh no! KK, well, I hope you feel better. Let me know if you need anything!
I toss my phone to the side, and it bumps into the box. The one that’s taunted me for the last several days. Rebecca finally convinced me to pack up all the shit from Zach and throw it out. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to throw it out.
The sight of the thumb drive makes my stomach clench violently as I try to fend off the memory of the fuckfest. I couldn’t tell Rebecca about that part. I haven’t told anyone. It’s humiliating enough to know the rest of the story. The shame that fills me at the thought of the knowledge that video exists is enough to keep me in silence.
I shake away the dark thoughts that threaten to roll in, pick up the box, and set it on the side of my desk next to the thumb drive .
Walking on my heels to prevent my still-damp toes from touching the floor– like that would have any impact on them– I pad over to my bed and pick my legs up to rest my arms against the top of my knees while I wait for the piggies to dry.
Sunlight from my window reflects off of the shiny surface of my anklet. It’s the only thing I haven’t tucked away from Zach.
The white gold “10” dangles gracefully against the bone of my ankle. When I’ve looked at it in the past, I felt such love, belonging, and possession. Now, it just feels like an anchor around my skin. The lightness of the piece of jewelry suffocates me with the weight of its symbolism.
My phone buzzes against my thigh, looking down at the screen I see “SAVS”.
“Oh look, if it isn’t the girl who used to be my best friend. But you can’t be that girl. That girl went to a fancy pants college and got new friends and left me behind.”
“Always with the drama, Charls. You know you’re my one and only. You and me ‘til the end, babe.”
“Mhm. So, how’s Florida? Please describe the hot specimens from your trip to the beach to me in great detail. I need some new fantasy material.”
“Lordy Charls, they don’t make ‘em back home like they do here. I swear having a six-pack must be a requirement for entry into the state. If only I could make the douches stop wearing visors. It’s like I’m in lust with their bodies, and then my eyes get to that lame-ass sideways visor, and the pearl goes right back in her shell, if you know what I mean.”
I laugh, “I’m so jealous! How about that sour-faced bitch of a roommate? She still giving you shit?”
“Ugh, she’s such a cunt. I’m pretty sure she’s sabotaging me with the team. I’m the new girl and literally the only non-white, blonde girl. I’m trying to win them over with my ever-present charm, but it’s been an uphill battle. Coach made us co-captains for now, but we’ve each been tasked with creating a routine for nationals. I have to kick her fucking ass, Charls. If she gets captain, she will make my life even more hell than she currently does.”
“If you need me to come out there and give her the ol’ Tonya Harding treatment, I can make that happen…” I offer, kinda joking, kinda not. I would do anything for Savs.
We both laugh.
“I have no doubt, and I love you for it. But I have something to prove to these bitches, and myself. I can handle the likes of Natasha Channing.”
I can just imagine her puffed-out chest at the statement. I have no doubt that Natasha Channing is in for a world of hurt. No one goes against Savannah Nova Mitchell and lives to tell the tale.“Okay, the offer stands anytime, boo. So, tell me, are there any boys that have caught the ever-picky eye of my best friend?”
“Girl, you know damn good and well my kitty cat ain’t been pet in a hot minute. I’ve been so fucking busy that I haven’t had time for getting fucking busy. It’s a travesty, really. I’m afraid the next gentleman that visits the clam shack will be fighting off thick cobwebs.”
“Come on, not one of those hot Florida boys gets your blood pumping?” I goad her.
“Oh, someone has been getting my blood pumping but not in a good, sexy way. This asshole in my music class fucking hates me for some reason and is my biggest competition for the solo performance at the end-of-the-year recital. Between him making class miserable and Natasha Cuntting making our dorm AND squad miserable, I’m about to pick up a drug habit just to chill the fuck out.” Savs gasps dramatically, reflecting on her words, “Oh my God, Charls, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. Jesus, I’m a fucking idiot. I’m so sorry.”
Once upon a time, when I had less sobriety under my belt, that statement might have bothered me. It took a long time for me to wrap my head around the fact that some people can do drugs recreationally and not make it a habit. Who knew?
“Don’t even worry about it, Savs. No harm, no foul. I promise.” I wave off her concerns, she doesn’t apologize lightly, and she doesn’t need to beat herself up more than I know she already does for the misplaced blame she’s laid on herself for my fuck ups. “Anyways, I gotta jet. My toes are about dry, and I’m going to grab a coffee before settling in for a movie night.”
“Love you, girl. Call me tomorrow.”
“Love your face. Night.”
I probably shouldn’t prance about the hallways in my cheeky panties. I walk over to my dresser, grab my denim skirt, and shimmy it up my legs. I take a peek in my full-length mirror.
The denim skirt rests nicely on my hips, and my favorite tank that has seen better days still curves to my body like a glove. My hair is, for once, combed and lying softly across my chest from the length of my most recent cut.
The light in my eyes hasn’t fully come back yet. I don’t know if it ever will. But the haunted gaze I used to see has lessened.
Two loud thumps on my door startle me enough that I drop my phone, which slides partially under my bed.
Grumbling to myself, I walk over and turn the knob.
If my heart hadn’t already shattered to pieces in the last few weeks, I would probably have a more visceral reaction to the man slumped in my doorway with his head hanging defeatedly between his shoulders.
At one time, the sight would have eviscerated any anger, and I would go to him, ready to soothe away whatever was causing him pain.
I’m no longer that girl. I can’t be.
He takes his sweet time raising his gaze to meet mine. When our eyes clash together, I almost give in. Almost. Stay strong, Charlie. I’ve thought of this moment a time or two. I’ve imagined screaming at him. Punching him in the face or kicking him in the nuts. In my imagination, I would scream, cry, and demand an explanation.
But as I look at the broken man before me, an odd sense of nothingness washes over me. He doesn’t get to take anything else from me.
“Little Bit,” he rasps; the familiar nickname comes out as if it’s sliding across razor blades. But still, I feel nothing.
“You know, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Trying to make sense of things. First, I made excuses. There had to be a reasonable explanation for why a sleepy-voiced female answered your phone at seven o’clock in the morning. But try as I might, I couldn’t think of one.”
The tears begin welling in his bloodshot eyes, but I continue steadfastly. “ Then I cried. I cried for days. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to not only jump off of the wagon but crash that bitch into a mountainside and get high off the ashes. I wondered what it was about me that made me so goddamn unlovable. So easily tossed aside. Wondering why the fuck that EMT saved me. Why he didn’t just let me die like the worthless castaway I was.”
I steel myself, straightening my shoulders to fight the urge to comfort him as the tears begin to flow down his cheeks. This next part is going to sting.
“Then, I saw the video. It was then I knew, this–” I sway my hand towards him and back to me, “means nothing to you. I mean nothing to you. And that, Zach… That’s a you problem, not a me problem. I will not let another man send me down the path of destruction.”
This is it. I refuse to be yet another pawn in someone else’s game of fuckery. I slam my open palm against my chest, “No more. I’m tired of people thinking they can use me in whatever way they see fit. I’m tired of not being someone’s first choice. I’m fucking worthy of being someone’s one and only choice, Zach.”
I told myself I didn’t need him to verify, but now that he stands before me, I have to ask, “Just tell me one thing. If you’ve ever cared for me at all. If you have a decent fucking bone in your body, be honest with me about one thing,” he nods his agreement and all I can do is hope he believes somewhere deep inside that I’m owed this one truth. “Did you do it? Did you fuck sleepy-voice girl?”
He nods. Of course, he did. Any last bit of excuse for him has completely left my body. I’m done with this. He can take his shit and leave. I turn away from him to grab the box off my desk. I fling the home porn vid on the top and offer the box to him.
His hands tremble as he takes it from me. His eyes plead the case that his mouth dare not try. Not a chance. You get nothing else from me. Except… I reach down, rip the anklet from my body, and toss it on the top of the pile.
“Don’t ever contact me again.” I whisper as I slowly close the door.