3volve (6 page)

He pulls back, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t.” He rubs my arms reassuringly.

I’m shocked. I thought he wanted me to kiss him. I thought he liked me.
Damn Nessa, filling my head with obvious nonsense.

I reach behind myself and grab my pillow, playfully smacking him in the face. “Get over yourself! I wasn’t going to do anything, I’m still sleepy,” I say, scratching my head.

If he didn’t stop me, would I have kissed him?
I walk downstairs before I have time to dwell on the weirdness that’s sure to follow.

Part II

Winter

The cold has kept me from fleeing my responsibilities.

I’ve been frozen in place,

by so much disgrace.

Hard choices are everywhere,

in the nooks and crannies laid bare.

Chapter 7

Thinking about all the tension in the past two weeks, a special family night might be needed. Halloween is today and happens to be their favorite holiday. I already got my first paycheck—even if it is only for the first week. It’s splurge money.

Turning up the dial on the radio, I let the music fill up the house. I’m cooking something special for the boys to get those brain cells bumping before they have a tutoring session. They seriously need to pull those grades up before they’re kicked off the team. So pumpkin pancakes, bacon, and green eggs, of course, seems like great brain food. And a little Halloween gesture might go a long way with us.

              When the boys walk into the kitchen, I’m dancing around waving my spatula listening to Taylor Swift. “Surprise!” I point to the Halloween inspired pancakes.

              “Why are they orange?” Jeremy asks, prodding them with a fork.

              “Because they’re pumpkin. They’re really good, promise.” I smile, taking a bite of pancakes to prove my point.

              “Sweet. You’re letting us have chocolate for breakfast,” Jeremiah says with a grin, pouring chocolate sauce over his pancakes.

“I was thinking we should do something fun for Halloween, what do you think?”

“Sounds cool,” Jeremiah says.

“Sure.” Jeremy finishes his food. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, but I know this is his favorite holiday.

“Great, I was thinking we could make a night of it. When you get home from the library.”

“Tim Burton?” they both ask. Then, looking at each other briefly for speaking in unison, they going right back to ignoring each other.

“Like duh! It wouldn’t be Halloween without him.” They nod in agreement. “Alright, you don’t want to be late, hurry up.” I playfully slap the table and run to get my purse.

              I hear them both groaning from the living room. They both scamper out the door with pancakes wrapped around bacon. I shake my head at their silliness.

“Be good.” I give them each lunch money. “And call me when you’re on the way back.”

“We’re not kids man,” Jeremy sneers a little bit. And my phone starts ringing.

I ruffle his hair, “Yes you are germ, and don’t you forget it.”

“Gross.” he swats my hand away. I laugh, shoving them both out the door.

My phone chimes with a reminder of my missed call, and I notice it’s Charlie. And I’m a little too happy it’s Charlie. I dial his number back.

“Hey, you called,” I say, smiling in spite of myself.

“I sure did sweetheart. I just got in from Chicago. They wanted me to look into their systems. A big overhaul. Man I made a lot of money off them,” he laughs. “Do you have work today?”

I pile their dirty dishes in the sink to wash later. “Nope. Boss man gave me the day off because I was working doubles.”

“Why are you working a double? You need the money?” he asks concerned.

“Whoa. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Worry so much. You’ll get worry lines. Besides I need to save up for Christmas.”

“I can help, just saying.”

“I know. I don’t mind a few hours here and there though.”

“Oh, hold on a moment okay?” he says, muffling the phone. But I can still hear a young woman’s voice on the other side.

“Sure thing,” I say. Her voice moves from across the room he’s in, getting closer. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I know it doesn’t sound like his savvy assistant. So who else could he be talking to, I wonder.

“Sorry about that.” He clears his throat. “Work stuff.”

“Work huh?”

“I should be there soon, and I’m tired. So is it cool if I crash at your place? Hotels seem so dreary at the present.”

“You’ve been tired a lot lately. Any particular reason?” I try to sound casual, but a little jealousy seeps through.

“Yeah. I’ve had a lot of out of town trips.”

“Uh huh. Well you’re more than welcome to sleep in my room. The boys have a tutoring session at the library. They should be back before you get here.”

              “Good. Okay, see you soon.”

              “Be safe.”

              “Sure thing love.”

              I hang up the phone, sitting at the empty table. If he were dating anyone, I’m sure he would tell me. Right?
Yeah, totally. We’re best friends after all.
I play with my phone, spinning it around on its side. Maybe I should call Nessa…. No, no. He wouldn’t keep any big secrets from me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The entire time I’m waiting for the boys to get home, I can’t stop thinking about Charlie—Charlie laying there in my bed. He probably took a shower and changed into those shirts, which highlight all the right areas.
Okay, I really need to stop thinking of him on my bed shirtless.

Or on my bed.

But I’m still thinking of him when the front door jiggles open.

“Hey.” He greets me with a smile like the one he always does, but this time it feels different. This time I want to reach my hand up and touch his lips.

“Hey. You’re uh, in luck, the boys aren’t home yet.” I scramble to get the words out.

“So then I have you all to myself.” Charlie pulls me towards him, resting his hand on my hip.

I laugh uneasily but unmoving. “What did you have in mind?”

His smile etches upwards in a slant, eyes crinkled, then finally says, “Food.” Charlie releases his hold on me and walks into the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

He leaves me standing in the entryway shocked. What the heck just happened? I sigh, exasperated. “Food,” I mutter. I follow after him, kicking my feet at the air.

Charlie is sitting on the bar stool, legs outstretched, tie loosened around his neck. And in so many ways he looks disheveled yet handsome all at the same time.

              “You should get some sleep before the little germs get here,” I say, sitting on the kitchen table.

              “Studying huh?” He takes a bite out of my Chinese leftovers.

              “It’s a new thing they’re starting.” I check my phone again for updates, but they still haven’t called or texted.

              Charlie’s phone starts ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he gets up, putting the plate in the sink. “I’m going to take you up on that nap before they get here.”

              “Oh. Yeah okay.”

              He squeezes my shoulder before walking upstairs and talking on his phone in hushed tones.

The boys tumble inside, throwing their backpacks in the corner of the entryway. Lounging back along the couch, they close their eyes, pressing their temples. My, my, a few hours of studying and it’s like they’re trying to piece together
Inception
.

              “Germs, you okay?” I ask them, picking up their backpacks and hanging them on the hook where they should be.

              They groan, “Tell us we’re going to watch mind-numbing movies and eat chocolate covered everything,” Jeremiah says, stretching out his arms and gliding further into the couch.

              “I thought we were going to eat cheese-covered everything,”

              “No, no, he’s right. This is definitely a chocolate-covered day,” Jeremy tells me.

              “That bad huh?”

              “Worse,” they both say.

              I laugh at their slow, burning misery, “Okay, okay. Chocolate it is. Don’t wake up Charlie,” I say, walking to the kitchen.

              “Oh no worries, I’m not asleep yet. I heard chocolate was going to be involved down here.” He places a hand on my lower back.

              I shirk away from his touch.” I thought you were tired.”

              “I got a second wind. So what are we eating,” he says with a sly smile while reaching for the popcorn.

             
Second wind my ass
. He totally has something he’s not telling me. I know it’s about that secret phone call with that secret person, and all this secrecy is going to drive me crazy!

              I scowl at the inside of the pantry without answering him. I don’t know why he insists on coming every other weekend but won’t tell me why he has decided to become an entirely different person.

“Do you want me to order some pizza?” Charlie grabs a menu off the refrigerator, taking me out of my head.

I ignore his question again. The boys probably need some reliability in their lives, and I don’t know if having Charlie here so often is good for them. They might start relying on him more than me.
What if they only put up with him because we’re friends? Oh man, I should have asked them if they were okay with him visiting all the time. Is this me being selfish again?

He stretches out his arm to reach for the chocolate, but I snatch it out of his reach. “Why are you so tired?” I ask accusingly.

“Mmm,” he takes a handful of chips. “I’m taking another business trip tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I just did,” he winks, taking another chip. “Pizza?”

“I’ll get it.” I lay the bowls on the coffee table. “Maybe it should just be us—family.” I squeeze his arm. I don’t want to see him go, but with the boys acting out like this, I don’t know what else to do.

“Oh, sure. Well, I should be going then. Long flight.” He kisses my cheek, lingering a moment, “Be safe.”

I turn my head slightly, but he already turned to grab his keys. “Be safe,” I tell him. Charlie nods on his way out.

             
I yell upstairs, “Let’s get this party started boys.”

They both come barreling down. The popcorn popping in the background, I grab some sodas from the fridge.

“How about we watch a scary movie before our Burton marathon?” I hand them each a soda.

“And order pizza?” Jeremy asks.

“Sure. Pizza pizza,” I tell him.

“Is Charlie coming back?” Jeremiah asks, throwing pillows on the floor. At this point the floor is more comfortable than the couch.

“No, I told him it’s family night.” I pile three pillows against the couch and lay back, turning on the TV.

“But he
is
family,” Jeremy insists, grabbing the controller from me and browsing movies.

I turn to them, “So you want him to?”

“Yes!” Jeremiah says.

“Like duh!” Jeremy adds.

Huh, wrong again apparently.
“Fine, fine.” I run after Charlie and catch him before he leaves the driveway. I tap on his window, so he rolls it down. “Do you, want to come inside?”

“For family night?” He smirks.

“Yeah, about that, they both seem to think of you as family.”

He pulls back up, turning off the car. Walking towards me, he says, an inch away from my face, “But you don’t think of me as family?”

“I could never get around to that way of thinking.” I look away from him, uneasy.

He rubs my clavicle, “And why’s that?” Charlie keeps rubbing his way down my arm, tickling it.

I clear my throat. “We should get in and order that pizza.”

“Way ahead of you,” he waves his phone, walking up the steps.

“Of course you already ordered.” I roll my eyes while following him inside.

When I get inside, all three are fighting over the control of which movie to watch first. Bodies are piled against each other, arms outstretched. It’s sad really, because obviously I’m picking the first movie.

I skip over to them and snatch the controller out of Charlie’s hand, laughing at how easy it really is.

Chapter 8

             
Things have finally gotten back to normal, or as normal as it can be for us anyway. Things aren’t as awkward between Charlie and me anymore, or at least now he isn’t as weird.

The holidays had always been a stressful time for Ma; she would call and pester me about coming over. And I would make up some excuse for not wanting to do it.

But now—now, I’m going to make this Thanksgiving special. I’ve been cooking pre-trials before the big day all weekend, and I know exactly what I’m going to cook for the big day. Jeremy won’t be able to resist my much improved cooking any longer.

I woke up before the sun to use the stove. If that doesn’t show commitment, I don’t know what will. And even now I’m starting to feel the irresistible pull of a nice night’s rest—but no! I won’t give in now, not before I can make them see I’m trying.

Opening the oven to check on the turkey, I hear the sound of Chewbacca alerting me of a text. What if…no, no, I shush myself from thinking anything too negative. Charlie wouldn’t cancel.

I swipe down to see his message,
You better have cleaned, bc I have a buncha shiiiit coming your way. See you soon, lady love :)

             
Such language, sir. I cleaned, like duh. See u soon.
I hit send.

              Shoot I forgot to clean. I run around upstairs, throwing clothes into a huge pile on the bathroom floor and sliding everything against the walls and into corners.

              If procrastination were an Olympic sport, I would win gold. While I’m running around hiding everything under covers and behind closed doors, Jeremy and Jeremiah are just sitting in the living room unmoving. The only movement I see is when they reach for more cheese puffs. But even then, it’s ridiculous how lethargic they’ve been since getting home on break.

              I push their feet off the coffee table, “Charlie will be here soon. Maybe you can pick something to do?”

              “Sure, we’ll ask what game he wants to play,” Jeremy says, reaching for more cheese puffs.

              I throw my hands up in the air, muttering, “I walked into that one.”

              Charlie bursts open the door with a box in one hand and a shopping bag in the other.

              “Ooh let me help you with that.” I walk over to him, grabbing the shopping bag. And he laughs, throwing his head back, “Of course that’s what you help with.”

              I shrug, pulling out a floral scarf.

              “A gift ma’am.” He puts the box in the kitchen. Oh I hope that’s my coffee maker.

              I wrap the scarf around my neck, flipping it with more flare, “How do I look?”

              “Fabulous, darling,” he says, snapping his fingers and cocking out his hips.

I laugh at his silliness, “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back. Cooking huh? You sure that’s the best thing to be doing?”

“Har, har. Mock all you want. But you don’t seem to mind my cooking when you’re here eating all our leftovers.”

“I’m usually sleep deprived; I’d eat just about anything you put in front of me.”

I shove him playfully, pulling out my dishes and glorious coffee maker. I hold it up to my chest like a best friend I haven’t seen in a long time.
Finally
.

“Would you two like a moment? Yeah, totally. I’ll leave you alone with your unhealthy addiction to caffeine, and I’ll put the boxes upstairs.”

“That’s fine.” I look back to the coffee maker, “Sshh the bad man is leaving soon.” Charlie rolls his eyes like I’m the crazy one of us three.
Whatevs.

Charlie puts all my boxes upstairs, and I don’t know what I’m more grateful for, a coffee maker or clothes that aren’t all black.

I leave them on the living room playing another iteration of the zombie apocalypse. Sitting on my bed, I fold my legs inward, looking at the stacked boxes in front of me: the convergence of my old and new life coming together.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I know it’s selfish for me to want him to stay, but why should he go back to his parents? Because he started seeing some girl? Why should she affect anything, huh? We were friends way before she came along. I slam down my bottle harder than I meant to. Everyone looks up at me worried. “Sorry,” I laugh it off. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

              The three of them go back to talking about basketball, their faces lit up and smiling. Their annoying twinness is back in semi-full force after weeks trapped in despair and longing.

Charlie looks up at me, his smile returning along with theirs. I return his smile and he lingers on me before going back to their conversation.

Jeremy and Jeremiah stand up and pat Charlie on the shoulder, “See ya man,” they say on their way upstairs. At least one good thing came out of cooking food we’re going to have to eat for the next week—they are finally happier and talking to me. Progress! I smile at their retreating figures.

“Do you want another beer?” I ask him.

“I should really get back,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Already?” I try to resist asking him to stay, but why should I? We’re just friends after all. It’s not as if I’m asking for anything else. Right?

“I should get going before it gets too late. I’m tired already,” he says, standing up.

“You don’t have to go, you can stay here. It is Thanksgiving.”

He turns around to look at me, his eyes gazing at me looking for an answer. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have to drive back right now tired. You can stay in my room and I’ll—”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping in there. It’s not good for the healing process,” he interrupts me.

“I was going to say, I’ll bunk with the boys.” I roll my eyes at his insinuation.

“Good.” He idles in the hallway. “I don’t want to kick you out of your room.”

“You can’t sleep on the floor or couch. That couch,” I point behind me, “is older than both of us. Sleep in my room because it’s the lesser of two evils.” I reach for his hand but pull back unsure if I should or not, but what the hell. I grab his hand and pull him upstairs.

“I’ll be fine,” he counters.

“Men,” I shake my head and let go of his hand. We’re both standing outside my childhood bedroom. I don’t know why it’s awkward; it’s not the first time he’s been in my room.
Ugh, get it together Cris
. “I’ll get fresh towels.” I snap my fingers and walk to the hall closet.

When I get back, he’s resting on top of the covers. He’s eyes are closed, and he looks gentle. But I know he can be serious and demanding when he needs to be. I put the towels down on my
cajon
and walk over to him. I always knew he was handsome—the desire of every girl in high school and college. 

I stroke his hair gently, coaxing him to sleep. He works too much and then he’s been commuting back and forth for weeks. I know he must be tired. I should have had him come to bed sooner; at least he would have had a shower. He moans softly and I pull my hand away, not wanting to wake him.

But he reaches for my hand. “Why’d you stop?” he smiles. “If I can’t sleep on the floor, you shouldn’t either,” he opens an eye to look at me. “You should sleep here. It’s not the first time after all,” he closes it again.

I chuckle nervously, “Uh…yeah…but what about the girl you’re dating?”

He opens both eyes, smirking, his dimples sinking in. “I might have exaggerated her existence.”

“Oh.”
Why would he want to do that?
Unless, maybe Nessa was right about us. “Then…sure, I mean what’s the harm right?” I take off my shoes.

“Exactly,” he stretches his arms outward, “Are you going to take a shower or get ready for bed first? I can wait.”

“No, no. You should take a shower first. You’re the guest,” I pick up a towel and throw it on his face. “Don’t use up all the hot water or I’ll hog the covers.”

He snaps his fingers, “There goes my diabolical plan,” he says grabbing the towel and heading to the bathroom.

I fall back onto the bed.
This. Is. Not. Weird.
It’s a pragmatic solution to sleeping arrangements. I grab a pillow and scream into it.

Instead of worrying about some silly situation that is all in my head. I get up and grab pajamas and another blanket. I pace back and forth around the room waiting for the shower to stop. I look at the pajamas I picked: striped pull-string pants and an oversized t-shirt. Totally acceptable pajamas, friend to friend. Still looking at the clothes in my lap, they’re all wrong. I shake my head and get up to grab another pair when I hear the shower turn off. 

Great, I don’t have much time. I rifle through my drawers until I see an old pullover in the back. Charlie gave it to me—okay, he didn’t give it to me so much as I never returned it. But it’ll do. Then I grab some boxer shorts. I look at both sets of clothes in my hands. One says, “You’re practically my brother.” The other says, “I know you’re my best friend, but I might like you.”

The door opens before I can decide, so I stuff the “boring ol” pajamas’ between the seat cushions.

Charlie walks into the room toweling his hair. “I see the knob is still hot for cold and cold for hot,” he laughs. “I remember when your dad got so mad at me when I turned the water on while I was standing in the shower. He said I deserved a shock because who turns on the water while
in
the shower,” he laughs again shaking his head.

“I just remember you shrieking like a girl. You woke up the whole neighborhood.” I laugh aloud, covering my mouth so I don’t wake anyone.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s not dredge up the past, eh. I made sure not to use up all the hot water.” He hangs his towel over the closet door.

“Thanks.”

The bathroom smells like a mix of citrus and mouthwash. I shave my legs in the shower—which I don’t do for just anyone. I’m not sure why I wanted to shave my legs, but I like having that option. I pull on boxer shorts and his college pullover.

His eyes are closed when I get out, and I feel disappoint rush over me. I shaved my legs for this! When I climb in bed, I’m suddenly overly aware of his body heat next to mine. He’s going to be two inches away the entire night. Sure, we’ve been in the same bed before, but we’ve never
slept
in the same bed before. God, Mama would have chased him out of the house with a
chancla
yelling.

Then again, before, there was always food and Vanessa between us to act as a buffer. I should probably say something—something very nonchalant. But should I? I fidget with my fingers, nervously shaking my legs between the sheets.

He’s probably trying to get to sleep or already asleep. I should just close my eyes and do the same, right? Why do I fight with myself? I’m being a crazy person.
Aaah
.

I turn my head to the side expecting him to be asleep except he looks wide-awake, staring up at the ceiling. Charlie’s clasping and unclasping his hands.

Why is this so awkward?!  We’re friends—just friends.
“I thought you were tired.” I try to sound casual, but it comes out as a croak.

“I can’t sleep.” He turns to me.

The longing look he’s giving is making me uncomfortable. “I should leave; you probably can’t sleep with my fidgeting.” I sit up, but he stops me.

“I just keep thinking this is the first time we’ve been alone,” he murmurs.

I lay back down. “Weird huh?”

“No.” Charlie shrugs.

“Oh.”

He turns to his side, sizing me up, taking in my outfit. I guess I chose correctly. I pull at my sleeve.

“Would this be my pullover you said you couldn’t find?” He smirks tracing the letters of his alma mater.

“Maybe.” I lock eyes with him, refusing to back down.

“I knew you had it tucked away somewhere,” he says amusingly.

“I like it.” I touch the lettering on my chest. “It’s comfy.”

“So do I. It looks good on you.” His amusing tone is replaced with a pleading one.

“Thanks,” I say, self-consciously.

He inches closer to me, “Much better than those PJ’s you were going to wear.” He nods to the chair where I stashed my clothes.

“I always wear those. I thought I would change things up.”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me,” he says, placing his hand on my hip.

I look down, shivering at the sensation of his callous hand on my skin. Goosebumps appear all over my body, with the persuasive voice in my head telling me to act impulsively. “I know.”

“Is this okay?” he asks, unsure of himself. He gently rubs my right side, nudging me closer to him.

I nod, my heart beating faster as his hand trails down my side. I lean in closer to him, not wanting to question what is happening.

This has always felt right. In a world of uncertainty, in doubts and pain, Charlie has always been a constant, anchoring me to the world of the living. I don’t know why it took me this long to realize he was who I’ve wanted since that first day in detention.