Chapter 10
He Did What?
Charlie
Unknown number: Hi Charlie. This is Ryan’s brother, Garrett. Can we talk?
Charlie: How did you get my number?
Unknown number: I stole Ry’s passcode. Shh, don’t tell him. ;)
Charlie: What do you want?
Unknown number: I need to talk to you about Ryan.
Unknown number: Please.
Charlie: I don’t want to talk about Ryan.
Unknown number: I know you’re upset, but I can explain everything. Give me 10 minutes.
Charlie: Fine. 10 minutes. Meet at the Coffee Hut?
Unknown number: Yep. 7:00 tonight?
Charlie: Okay.
Unknown number: Thank you!
I never should have agreed to this. I should be at Stella’s and Emma’s place right now eating my weight in ice cream and crying at rom-coms. How will I even recognize him?
I’ve never actually met either of Ryan’s brothers.
That probably should have been a sign. I mean, I didn’t introduce him to my dad because he’s an asshole.
Maybe the same goes for Ryan’s brothers.
I swear, if this guy shows up here just to bitch at me, I’m going to tear Ryan a new one.
The bell above the cafe door jingles, and for the tenth time in the past five minutes I look up to see who’s entering.
My concern that I wouldn’t recognize Ryan’s brother disintegrates the minute he enters the coffee shop.
Garrett’s face is a little rounder, his body thinner, but there’s no mistaking those stormy-blue eyes, straight nose and long, dark hair.
He obviously recognizes me too because he smiles and heads directly for my table.
“Hi, Charlie,” he says, offering his hand to shake.
At least he seems nice.
“Hi,” I reply, trying to smile but doing a shit job of it. I take his hand in mine, we shake, and he takes the seat across from me.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” he says.
I just nod and play with the plastic lid on my teacup. “You can get something if you’d like. I’ll wait.”
He gives me another tentative smile. “That’s okay. I won’t bother you for long.” He sighs and scratches nonexistent chin stubble. “The truth is, Ryan doesn’t know I’m here and if he finds out, there’s a high probability he’ll murder me in my sleep so I’m going to keep this brief.”
I take a sip of my tea, hoping the warm chamomile will slow my racing heart. “Why are you here then?”
“Because I think you have a right to know the truth and Ryan, being an idiot, thinks he’s doing the right thing. Shithead’s got a hero complex or something. Anyway.” He clears his throat and sinks back into his seat. “Ryan didn’t want to break up with you.”
My heart leaps at his words, but I quickly squash my excitement and school my features. “We weren’t together.”
“Whatever. You know what I mean. He likes you a lot. He’s liked you for a long time, actually.
It’s just…” Garrett pauses and tips his head back, as if the word he’s looking for is written on the ceiling.
“Ry got off of work early yesterday and stopped by your house, wanting to surprise you or something.” He waves a hand dismissively.
“I don’t know to be honest. But your dad answered the door. ”
Oh my god. That son of a bitch. I could kill him.
I could fucking kill him. “Dammit.” I smack my hand on the table.
“I knew something was up.” This is all my fault because I never told Ryan what a colossal asshole my father is.
I was so afraid of hurting Ryan’s feelings if I told him what my father thought about him, that I left him completely unprepared.
“Yeah.”
The words my father used when he saw Ryan that first night ricochet like bullets in my brain:
“Trouble.”
“Punk.”
“Loser.”
I scrub the tears from my eyes and steel my spine. “What did he say to him?” I ask, my voice considerably calmer than I feel. Then again, my hands are shaking so badly, I’m afraid to pick up my tea for fear I’ll spill it all over myself.
“He told him if he kept seeing you, he’d kick you out and take away your money for college.”
My eyes pop open, and I stand up so fast my chair tips and falls with a clatter to the floor. “He did what?”
“Father!” I shout and slam the front door behind me.
That, of course, has my mom running out of the kitchen like she’s got a bee under her skirt. “Charlie?” She scans the space as though whatever nefarious creature had her sweet girl yelling might be hiding in our living room. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t have the patience to field her questions right now. I need to keep my anger hot and pointed directly at my father, so I don’t wimp out. “Where’s Dad?”
She turns her head to glance down the hall, and I see my dad strolling along without a care in the world.
It’s all an act. It’s all part of the way he keeps us in check.
He stays all cool then acts like we’re being hysterical when we get upset and yell.
If he thinks that shit is going to work on me now, he’s got another thing coming.
The fact that my sister isn’t trailing him like a shadow means she must be sleeping over at a friend’s house. No way, she’d be missing this.
“What’s all this shouting about, Charlie?” My father leans a shoulder against the wall and folds his arms across his thick chest.
“I am sick and tired of your overbearing bullshit, that’s what.”
Mom gasps. “Charlie.”
“Language,” Dad says, a tinge of anger leaking into his voice.
“That’s what you’re focusing on in that statement?
That I cursed?” Balling my hands into fists at my side, so I don’t punch him in his arrogant face, I glare at him and shout, “Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shitty ass fuck. Mother fuck fuckity.” I probably look like a toddler throwing a tantrum, but I don’t care.
“Dick. Ass. Fuck. Fucking bull shit. Mother—”
“That’s enough,” my father bellows. He pushes off the wall and stalks toward me, his face a furious red.
I could laugh at how easily I got a rise out of him if I wasn’t so pissed.
My mom just remains standing in the entryway to the kitchen twisting a dish towel in her hands and crying—like she always does.
“I don’t think it is.” I jab a finger at his chest, relishing the way his nostrils flare. “Who the hell do you think you are threatening my boyfriend?”
He draws back, eyebrows so high, they’d have touched his hairline if he had one. “That boy is not your boyfriend.”
“That’s not your choice,” I retort. “I am a twenty-fucking-year-old woman and if I want to cuss, have sex or date a biker with a billion tattoos, I will.”
“As long as you live under my roof—”
“Fine,” I shout, interrupting him. I march into my bedroom, my dad hot on my heels.
Snatching a suitcase from my closet, I throw it on my bed and start grabbing clothes out of my drawers.
I’m not even paying attention to what I’m taking; I just shove whatever I grab into the bag and move on to the next drawer.
“What are you doing?” My dad races over to the bed and snatches up the suitcase, upending it and dumping the contents onto my bed. “You are not going anywhere.”
“I am a grown adult, and I will do whatever the fuck I please.” I ram my shoulder into his sternum, knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble back a few steps.
Then, I drag my suitcase back to where it was and stuff whatever’s within easy reaching distance back inside.
When I spin around to grab more clothes, I find my mom now watching from my doorway—still frigging crying.
Thanks for the help Mom. “You know what the funny part is?” I say.
“You didn’t ask me a single thing about Ryan.
You didn’t try to get to know him or even have a five-minute-long conversation with him before you decided he was a bad guy.
You just saw a fucking motorcycle and tattoos. ”
“Charlie,” my dad starts.
“No. I’m talking and you’re going to listen to me for once.
” Surprisingly, he shuts his mouth and doesn’t argue.
“You want to know why I was crying that first night Ryan brought me home? Hmm? Dad? Mom?” I glance back and forth between my parents, as though waiting for an answer to what was obviously a rhetorical question. “Because I was almost raped.”
My mom throws a hand over her mouth muffling a surprised gasp.
My dad just continues silently staring at me, a slight widening of his eyes, the only indication that he even heard what I said.
“A guy attacked me at a party and Ryan. Ryan,” I emphasize, “stopped him. Ryan pulled that guy off of me and hit him so hard, he broke his nose. He called the police and sat with me the whole time while I told them what had happened and then took me home. Does that sound like a bad guy to you?”
Both my parents stare at me, dumbfounded.
“I… I didn’t know,” my father says.
“You didn’t ask.” I cross the room to my dresser and continue gathering clothes. “Did you also know that he’s a kicker for the football team and at school on a partial football and academic scholarship?”
My parents share a look, I can’t even begin to decipher, nor do I care to. I just want out of this stupid house now.
“He’s a straight-A student,” I continue. “A business major. But he’s trouble, right?” I close my bag and zip it shut.
I snatch up the suitcase, push past my mom in the doorway and cross the hall into the bathroom I share with my sister, where I grab some essentials—toothbrush, shampoo and the like—and cram them into the bulging front pocket of my suitcase. Then, I take off for the front door.
“Where are you going, baby?” my mom calls after me.
Spinning around, I pin my parents with a glare.
“I’m going to Stella’s. I am through with you treating me like a child.
The only reason I stayed here was because having a job would make it harder to keep up at school, but if you’re going to use that to control me, I will happily get a job and both of you can go get the hell out of my life. ”
I turn back around, fling the front door open and cross the lawn to where Stella’s parked at the curb, waiting for me.