Char (18 page)

“Yeah, sort of. She came to have dinner with me on Tuesday, and I was sort of a brat to her. I got mad at her for stupid reasons, and then I walked out on our dinner. I feel bad. Ugh, what is wrong with me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that, Char?”

“No,” I answer quickly. I’m sure Aaron could come up with a
huge
list for me if I wanted. He knows me better than anybody else — including myself.

“I think it’s good that you’re wanting to work on your relationship with your family. While you’re at it, you should probably work on your relationship with your mom. I think that if you didn’t jump her every time she suggests that you follow in her footsteps, it would be a good start,” he says. “If you do that, maybe it’ll be easier to decide what you want to do with your own future.”

“When did you get so smart?” I ask.

“Since my best friend left, and I had to reevaluate my life. That, or maybe it’s the weed. It sure makes me
feel
smarter.”

I laugh.

We both joke around through the rest of dinner. And I’m sad when he leaves to go back to California, but I know that he’s right. It just sucks, because I can feel us growing apart. Seeing him a few times a year is going to suck. But after talking to him, I feel excited about my future. He’s right. Sometimes change has to happen before you can move forward. This change will be for the best. Or at least, I hope it will.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 1

8am

My future ex-wife

The next morning, Dad, Christian, Tristan, and I all go out for breakfast. I didn’t sleep a lot the night before, so I order a large coffee… I spent the whole night wondering if I lost my best friend. It didn’t seem so from the conversation we had at dinner, but when I was telling Aaron goodbye there was definitely something different about him. Something in his eyes. He looked heartbroken and sad. And it made me think that
maybe
I did break his heart. Maybe Tristan is right. Maybe he is in love with me, and part of me is sad that I can’t return his feelings. I have no doubts that he and I would have been good together. But I need heat. I need passion. And I just don’t feel that with Aaron — no matter how badly I want to.

“Why did your friend leave early?” Christian asks me as I drink my coffee. “I was looking forward to meeting this guy.”

I shrug. “I think he just had stuff to do in California. His dads have a big Labor Day party every year, so he probably had to help with that, or something.”

“Oh that reminds me,” Tristan turns to my dad. “My mom wanted to know if you were coming to her annual charity auction tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Dad says.

“Are you coming?” Christian asks me.

“Um… I don’t know…”

“Actually, Char and I have plans,” Tristan says.

“We do?” I ask.

“Yep. My dad said we could take his boat.”

“Cool. Can I come?” Christian asks.

“Definitely
not
.”

“So unfair. You’ll be on a boat, having sex with a hot girl, and I’ll be at one of mom’s boring charity events, listening to old rich people whine about the stock market.” Christian turns to my dad. “No offense, Mr. York.”

I feel my face grow warm at his sex comment. Partly because I’m embarrassed he said it, and partly because I am remembering the very intense kiss that Tristan and I shared on Thursday night. I’m really hoping I get a repeat very soon.

“No offense taken. I hate those parties too. But I always meet potential clients, so I go,” Dad replies to Christian. He is either ignoring the sex comment, or he didn’t hear it. I hope he didn’t, but I seriously doubt it. No matter how much he likes Tristan, I know he doesn’t want to hear about his
teenage daughter
having sex.

“Nice. I bet rich people love you,” Christian says. “Or hate you. Depending on if they hired you before their spouse.”

“Well, there
is
a reason I charge so much money. I
am
the
best
.”

“You’ll definitely be handling my divorce.”

Tristan laughs. “You aren’t even married yet. Besides, who says you will get divorced?”

“Hey, I’m just preparing,” Christian tells him. “Fifty percent of all marriages in American end in divorce. So that means my odds are fifty-fifty. I’m preparing for the worst.”

“Well, the statistics with your first marriage is actually forty percent. And the chance of divorce goes down tremendously when you have children,” I say, remembering a paper I did on the subject of divorce. “And of course your age is a factor in the calculations.”

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly a
normal
American,” Christian says. “I figure for people of my financial status that the odds are a little less.”

“Dude — all you have is a trust fund. And you don’t get
that
until you’re twenty five. You’re not rich. Our parents are.”

“But I
will
be rich,” Christian says. “And that
trust fund
is pretty large. You know that. I’d rather not share it with my future ex-wife.”

“If males get married before their twenty years old, the divorce rate is only like twelve percent,” I tell him. “So you should get married now. Otherwise, you should wait until your thirty.”

This makes Tristan laugh. “Christian get married before he’s twenty? He doesn’t even do his own laundry.”

“You don’t either,” he counters.

“I so do. I had Cresinda teach me how to when I was fifteen. And when I was a senior, I took over all my own laundry. I wanted to prepare for college,” Tristan tells him.

I keep my mouth shut during this conversation, because I definitely
don’t
do my own laundry. I let the maid that comes over once a week do my laundry. It’s not that I don’t know how… I just don’t like doing laundry. Why do it myself when somebody else will do it?

“Speaking of college, I got my early acceptance to NYU,” Christian says. “I haven’t told Mom and Dad yet. I’m saving it for next time I’m in trouble. I figure they won’t be mad anymore if I tell them I got accepted there.”

“I’m sure it won’t be long,” I say. “You seem like the kind of guy who gets in trouble a lot.”

“You will be a great future ex-sister-in-law,” Christian tells me.

“If I convince Charlotte to marry me one day, I definitely won’t be letting her go.”

“That’s probably a good thing, because her dad
is
the best divorce lawyer.”

My dad laughs at the two of them. “You definitely won’t be divorcing Charlotte if you marry her. If you did it would
definitely
be bad for you in more ways than one,” he tells Tristan. “As for you, Christian, I highly recommend that you grow up before getting married. Maybe after college. Or a few years after that.”

“What about you?” I ask him.

My parents have been divorced for twelve years, and neither of them have gotten remarried. I think it’s weird. Mom has dated a few guys, but it’s never been serious. Part of me thinks it would be better if she
did
find somebody… Then maybe she wouldn’t be obsessed with Chloe, Candi, and I.

“Maybe someday,” he answers. “But not now.”

The conversation of marriage ends at that. I can’t help but wonder if my dad won’t get married again because he’s still in love with my mom. I so wish she would return his feelings… for our family to be complete again. But I know that’s not going to happen. Sometimes, the only way to move is forward.

8pm

All of me

Tristan and I take a walk along the beach as the sun is setting. I miss the sunsets in California, but there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here, right now.

Tristan grabs my hand, and I feel as though I could melt into a puddle right then and there. I don’t even care if it makes me extremely girly. I like the way that he makes me feel, and I don’t ever want it to stop.

“I kind of like this,” he says, motioning towards our hands.

“Me too.”

We stop walking and sit down in the sand. He doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Do you ever wish that you could freeze time?” he asks. “Like on a perfect day, or a perfect night, and just live in eternal bliss.”

I consider his question. “Well, it’s a nice notion, but I think eternal bliss could get old. How can you appreciate the good if you
never
have any bad? Ups and downs are just a part of life.”

“I am a dreamer,” he says. “But you are very logical.”

“I dream too.”

“I know, but you dream logically. Like every dream is planned, and you know what will happen. You plan for good and bad.”

“What can I say? My dad’s a lawyer,” I say. “And I, like him, hate to lose. Especially when it comes to life.”

“Is that what you want to do?” he asks. “Become a lawyer?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But I definitely wouldn’t want to be a divorce lawyer. Imagine how depressing that would be,” I say. “If I become a lawyer, I would want to do something good. And I would be
honest
. I’m pretty sure most lawyers aren’t very honest.”

“I think you would be a good lawyer.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses before saying, “So are you sad that Aaron left early?”

“Sort of. This trip was…
really weird
,” I tell him. “Aaron acted different than he normally does, and even when he was saying goodbye I felt like he was breaking up with me or something… Like he didn’t want to be my friend anymore. It’s weird, because I thought we would
always
be best friends. I guess in this case I wasn’t being very
logical
.”

“You’ll always be friends,” Tristan says. “Even if you’re apart for years, when you see each other it won’t seem like a day has passed. You have both been so close for so long. Those kind of feelings just don’t go away.”

“Aaron is right. We are growing up. I guess I shouldn’t have expected things to stay the same.” I look up at Tristan. “But sometimes, change is a good thing.”

“So you really have
no
romantic feelings for him?”

“None at all.”

“And the kiss?” he asks.

“The kiss was… nice,” I answer. “It was easy, and familiar. But it was also awkward, and there was no spark at all. I didn’t feel any romantic feelings towards him. He didn’t make me feel like my head was spinning. He didn’t make my body feel like it was on fire. And he didn’t take my breath away.”

Tristan puts his hand on the side of my face, and my heart speeds up from his touch. “And do I?”

I nod my head, because I’m scared I won’t be able to speak. To say that Tristan Becker has stolen my heart would be an understatement. He’s stolen me —
ALL of me
. “Is it normal to feel this way about somebody that I met just over a month ago?”

“I don’t know.” He pulls my hand over his heart. I can feel it beating fast and hard against his chest. “But I feel it too.”

Tristan leans closer to me, and puts his lips against mine. At first his kiss is soft and gentle, but with him it doesn’t take long to get heated. He climbs on top of me, but his hands stay on my hips. He doesn’t explore my body this time, but he doesn’t have to. I can feel him everywhere already. Every kiss is painfully and pleasurably slow. My stomach is in knots, and I’m wondering if it’s normal to feel like this. I have
never
felt like this. I never knew
just kissing
could feel so erotic.

I love the way Tristan tastes — like Dr. Pepper. I love the way Tristan’s hard body feels against mine. And I love that I can feel just how bad he wants me, but he doesn’t make a move. He isn’t trying to seduce me. He’s just romancing me, and I’m so turned on that I can hardly think straight. But there’s something else — something I’ve never felt before. I’m definitely
not
in love with him, but I definitely think that I might be falling for him.

Tristan pulls away from me, and lies beside me on the sand. He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs my hand, and I watch the sky as it slowly turns from pink, to purple, to black. I definitely think life can’t get any better than it is in this exact moment.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 2

8am

In a relationship.

Tonight we have to head back to the city. Tristan will go back to the Upper West Side, and I’ll be stuck on the Upper East Side. But we have today, and I am going to enjoy every second I have with him.

When we get to the docks, Tristan shows me both of his dad’s boats. One of them is a huge yacht. Tristan tells me it’s the boat his dad uses for entertaining clients and guests. The second yacht is much smaller, but still very large. It’s 45 foot long, and has a huge deck and swimming platform. I follow Tristan up the stairs, and he starts getting the boat ready to leave.

“Are you sure you can drive this?” I ask.

“Yes. I got my license when I was sixteen, and before that I always watched my dad. He has a pilot for his other boat, but he loves driving.” He smiles at me. “I could let you steer once we get out in the open.”

“No way! This boat would probably drain my college fund if I crashed it,” I say.

“You won’t crash, you’re with me. Besides, once we’re out there, there isn’t really anything to hit.”

“Maybe.”
But probably not
.

“This is the reason I want to live close to the ocean,” he tells me. “I love driving a boat. It’s so…
relaxing
.”

There really is nothing more relaxing than being on a boat, though I can imagine driving it would be pleasurable. “My dad likes to sail. I always love going out on the boat with him, but he doesn’t really do it that often anymore. He’s so busy with work…”

“My dad always tells me that you have to make time for pleasure. If you work all the time you will drive yourself mad,” he says.

“You dad is pretty cool.”

“So is yours.”

“I guess he is better than he used to be. I kind of wish I would have came to live with him sooner. I like the freedom I have with him,” I say. “I mean my mom let me do whatever I wanted, but I sometimes I felt smothered. I think it’s just because she pushed me so hard to be somebody that I’m just not.”

“Have you ever told her this? I know you’ve told her you don’t want to be like your older sisters, but have you
really
told her why?”