On the Fence (8 page)

Chapter 17

I
t was midnight. I didn’t think Evan would call at midnight, but I sat at my desk in my room staring at my phone anyway. I should’ve gotten his number so I didn’t have to give up all the control like this. I rubbed my eyes, now makeup-free, and wondered if Evan still would’ve asked for my number if he could see me now: sweats, tangled hair, tired eyes, and all.

My phone chimed and I gasped.

Are you up?
It was Braden.

My arms tingled with goose bumps and I rubbed them.
Yes.
I switched off my lamp, silently accusing myself of leaving it on for Braden in the first place, then made my way outside.

“Where were you all day today?” Braden asked from the other side of the fence.

“I had to work.” If I wanted to tell anyone about my makeup sessions, it was Braden—but I didn’t want to tell anyone.

“All day?”

“I went out afterward.”

“You did?” The surprise in his voice made me realize he thought I meant on a date.

“No, with some girls,” I said quickly.

“You did?” He sounded even more surprised.

I laughed. “Yes. And it was weird.”

“How so?”

“Well, I thought maybe they wouldn’t like me, but they did.”

“Why wouldn’t they like you?”

“Because I don’t know anything about shopping or hair or whatever.”

He laughed. “And you think that’s all girls like to do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought that’s what normal girls liked.” I didn’t have a frame of reference.

“What do you mean by ‘normal girls’?”

“Girls that aren’t into sports. The only girls I’ve ever hung out with are a lot like me. Big and burly,” I added to lighten the mood that suddenly seemed heavier than I wanted it to.

“You are not big or burly, Charlie. You’re tall and strong. There’s a big difference. And maybe you’re the normal one and those other girls are un-normal.”

I laughed at that as I thought of Amber—the pinnacle of every guy’s dream. “Whatever. It doesn’t bother me. It was just how I felt today. Weird.” But not necessarily bad. I actually liked Amber, and maybe that was weird too. “What about you? What did you do today?”

“Watched an NBA classic.”

“Ugh. I hate watching those.”

“I know.”

I smiled. There was something comforting in that moment about Braden knowing me so well. Maybe it was because I’d just hung out with a bunch of people who didn’t know me at all. “Really? You know?”

“Yes. You hate them because you already know who wins. But sometimes it’s fun to watch a game when the winner is already determined.”

“Where’s the excitement in that?” I bit my lip, the smile still lingering there. “Was it Jordan?”

“Of course.” I thought I heard a smile in his voice. Maybe he was happy I knew him so well too.

“He is amazing to watch. That fade-away jumper.” I put my hand over my heart even though he couldn’t see me.

“And those are the kinds of things a normal girl should know,” he said.

I laughed. “In your dreams.”

“Then I should probably get to those.” He stood with a grunt. “Good night, Charlie.”

“Did those count as our facts tonight, then?”

“Of course. But if you need another one, you snore in your sleep.”

I gasped. “What?”

“Gage’s room is right next to yours. I think I’ll get you that snoring machine for your birthday.”

“Snoring machine?”

“You know, that machine that has a mask and you wear it at night and it stops you from snoring.”

I knew he was using his hands to try to describe it and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I laughed. I did. “Well, you drool in your sleep.”

“Only when I’m really tired.”

“I think I’m going to get you a drooling machine. It has this mask thing and these straps . . .”

“Funny.”

“I thought so.” I stood, brushed off my flannel pajama bottoms, and walked backward a few steps, my eyes still on the fence.

“Today was boring,” he said. “Don’t work all day again.”

My heart did a flip and I chastised it. He just wanted to play ball or something and had no one around to play with . . . except my brothers and everyone else. “Good night, Braden.” I whirled around and jogged to the house, trying to contain my smile.

I stared intently at the shirts lined up on the rack, their colors blending. Why was I having such a hard time telling Linda I had to quit? Maybe because I sort of liked my job. It was relaxing. The last customer told me I was easy to shop around because I was laid-back and no-pressure, but very helpful. I’d never been told something like that before and it felt good.

“Could you re-dress the window mannequin?” Linda asked.

“Sure.” I turned around and held out my hand, expecting her to have an outfit for me to dress it in. When she didn’t, I was confused. “In what?”

“Why don’t you pick something out? She’s been wearing the same thing for a couple weeks.”

“You don’t want me picking something out.”

“Sure I do.” She pointed to the outfit I wore. I had layered one of the sheer silky shirts she had me buy over a different-patterned tank top I had picked up on my own. I hadn’t been sure if they went together but I thought it looked nice. Was she about to tell me it looked awful? “You’ll do a great job.”

I sighed, then walked the store. I picked a lacy skirt off the far wall and matched it with a summery-looking shirt. As I undressed the window mannequin, I said, “Linda, every summer I go to basketball camp for a week.”

“How fun. I didn’t know you played basketball.”

“Yes. I do. And camp starts in a few weeks.”

“Oh.” She pulled out her purse and dug through it, coming up with a little planner. She flipped the pages. “So what are the dates again?”

“August first through the eighth.”

She wrote something down. “Sounds good. I marked you down for that week off.”

“Oh.” Time off. I liked that idea better. “Thank you.” I continued to unbutton the mannequin’s shirt.

“You may not think you have style, Charlie,” Linda said, appraising the clothes I had hung on the hook next to me, “but that clothing combination isn’t a basic one. You picked up on the lace theme, not the color scheme. That says a lot.”

That compliment shouldn’t have made me so proud. I had probably seen a customer buy this outfit or something.

“Did I tell you that our business is up ten percent since we started stocking the makeup?”

“No, that’s great.” I folded the removed clothes and slid the shirt I had selected over the neck of the headless lady. Then I stared at the white, unbending arm, wondering how I was supposed to get that into the sleeve.

“It is great.” She put her purse back beneath the counter.

“Um . . .” I tried to twist the arm up and it popped off and clanked to the floor.

Linda looked up and laughed when she saw my face. “It pops right back on. You’ll get the hang of it. I’ll be right back.” And with that she disappeared into the back, leaving me with a one-armed mannequin.

I eventually realized the arms had to come off to fit the shirt on, but I had no idea how the skirt would fit over her wide stance. I laid her on her back and kneeled beside her, shimmying the lacy skirt up her legs.

This is how Skye found me when she walked into the store. “Hey, Charlie.”

“Hi. Linda’s in the back.”

We both looked at the half-dressed dummy on the floor then back at each other. Skye laughed.

“Any tips on mannequin dressing?”

“Surprisingly, I’ve never done it before.” She stepped forward and grabbed hold of the legs, trying to shove them together. “Oh. They don’t move.”

“Yeah.”

“Here. I’ll hold her neck and you shove her skirt on.”

“This feels so wrong,” I said as we both took our positions.

“She has no head, so she doesn’t know she’s being violated.”

I laughed and finally got the skirt to her waist. We hoisted her to her feet and both stared at her.

Skye tilted her head. “Are her arms lopsided?” She tried to move the right arm up and it popped off. “I broke her.”

“No, it goes back on.”

She swung the arm and smacked me on the butt with the mannequin’s hand.

“Hey, I have a head and am fully aware when I’ve been violated.”

Skye laughed, and I popped the arm back on and shoved the mannequin into the window before we messed her up even more.

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“No problem.” Skye headed for the back and Linda, but stopped. “Oh, remember that band I was telling you about? My boyfriend, Henry’s?”

“Yes.”

She pulled a flyer out of her purse and pointed to a picture of a flattened toad on the front. “It’s this Friday. Right up the street. You should come.”

“Yeah. I’ll try. Thanks.”

“No problem.” I watched her walk into the back room. I wondered what she and Linda talked about. How did they have anything in common?

The sound of crinkling paper made me look down. I realized I had the flyer in a death grip. Maybe I should go to this concert. I was a sporting-event type of girl, not a loud-music event one. At least that’s what I had always thought. But here I was standing in this store, in these clothes, hearing the sound of laughter in the back room, and realizing that maybe there was more to me than I realized.

Chapter 18

J
ust because I decided I would go to the concert didn’t mean I had to go alone. I impulsively called Amber to go with me. I figured she was more the rock-concert type than anyone else I knew.

She was on her way to my house, but I was up in my bedroom, trapped by the sounds of my brothers downstairs. It should’ve been easy for me to march down there in these clothes that I’d been wearing at work for weeks and tell them I was going out. It wasn’t. They still hadn’t seen me like this. And I felt like a fraud. Like this was just me playing pretend. Like they’d call me out on that fact.

Their laughter carried into my bedroom even though I had the door tightly shut. They were loud. I looked at my outfit one more time—a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt that showed more of my chest than I was used to showing. My hair hung down my back and actually looked shiny and full today with the help of some tips I’d learned from Amber.

I threw my shoulders back and headed for the door. I could do this. The door handle felt like a weight in my hand, too heavy to turn. Defeat wasn’t usually a feeling I let myself live with, but this time I knew I was beat. I walked to my closet, retrieved an oversized sweatshirt, and threw it on. Then I grabbed an elastic band from my desk, pulled my hair back, and went downstairs.

“Charlie!” Gage said the minute I’d reached the landing. “Hurry, get over here. I just bet Braden I could throw five pieces of popcorn into your mouth in under thirty seconds.”

“What?”

“Stand over there.” He pointed to a spot ten feet in front of him.

I looked at Braden, who was sitting on the couch, his feet on the coffee table. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile. Why did his smile make me want to do this? “He can’t do it,” Braden said.

“Why am I the person who has to be on the receiving end in this bet?”

Gage shrugged. “I don’t know. Braden said it’d be harder or something so I should get you down here. I was just about to text you.”

Braden wanted me down here. I looked at him again.

“I didn’t want grease on my face,” he said, but his cheeks seemed to brighten with a tint of pink. “Just open your mouth. There’s money on the line here.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I don’t have time for you dorks tonight. I’m going out.”

“Where are you going?” Gage asked.

I wanted to tell them where I was going, and if it were just Braden, I might’ve. But I wasn’t ready for questions from Gage. “Work. Inventory.” It hurt me to lie to him like that. We were close. I usually told him everything.

“Have fun.” I started to walk away, thinking I should just turn around and tell them I was going to a concert. Maybe they’d even want to go with me. But then Gage said, “Braden, go stand over there. I can make five pieces.”

“Are you sure you’re ready to lose five bucks?”

“Do it.”

I looked once over my shoulder as I headed for the door and saw Braden standing up to be the target for Gage’s popcorn. Our eyes met for a moment, and normally I would’ve said something like
You shouldn’t have made a bet like that when your mouth is so big.
Or
Popcorn in the eye sounds fun.
But instead I just stared until my foot caught on the edge of the carpet and I pitched forward, nearly falling flat on my face. The sound of laughter behind me propelled me right out the door.

When I jumped into the front seat of Amber’s car, I took the elastic band out of my hair, then peeled off my sweatshirt and threw it in the backseat. She pulled away from the curb.

“You’re not wearing much makeup.”

I usually wore none. But tonight I had applied a coat of mascara and my ChapStick.
I never do
is what I should’ve told her, but instead I said, “I didn’t have time to put a lot on.”

“There’s a purple case in my bag in the back. You can borrow some.” She reached over and flipped down the visor in front of me, revealing a mirror.

An image flashed through my mind of me sitting in the backseat of a car, watching my mom apply makeup. She looked back at me, sunlight turning the outline of her dark hair white, and smiled. Then she put a hand on my knee before going back to her task.

The memory was like a jolt to my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and flipped the visor back up. “I think I’m okay.”

“Okay. Oh, I meant to ask you if you could be the canvas for Antonia. The girl she arranged with fell through, and this is her first class at this store.” She opened the center console and pulled out a flyer. “I told her you might do it. I’d do it, but I’m doing my cousin’s makeup for her wedding. It’s this Sunday.”

I took a deep breath, trying to forget the flash of memory, and stared at the flyer, not processing anything. “What time?”

“In the afternoon, I think. Doesn’t it say on there?”

It did. “Sure. I just have church in the morning, but we’re done by eleven, so this will work.”

“Thank you. She’ll be so relieved.”

Amber found a parking spot on the street and we hopped out. Even before we got to the doors, the music poured out of the building and into the night. The place was crowded and the energy of the people pushed against me as we made our way inside. I wasn’t used to feeling so much excitement buzzing outside of a sporting event. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Normally I’d run or push back or charge. This wasn’t exactly the place for that. The group in the middle of the club was jumping up and down to the beat of the song. Maybe I needed to be in there.

The music went quiet, though, and the guy onstage announced that the next band would be out in five minutes. I hoped we hadn’t missed the one Skye wanted me to see—her boyfriend’s band. After searching for a while, we found Skye toward the back.

“Charlie! You came.” She gave me a side hug. “I wasn’t sure if you would.” She gave my outfit a once-over. “You look cute.”

“Thanks.”

“Not that I’m surprised. You have killer style.”

I let out a laugh but was surprised when neither she nor Amber laughed along. So that wasn’t a joke.

“Oh, look, Toad’s back on,” Skye said.

“Toad?” I asked.

“Henry.” She gestured toward the stage. “It’s a nickname my friend gave him and it’s stuck.”

“Is that why they named themselves The Crusty Toads?”

“No, actually. The nickname came second.”

I’d had a lot of nicknames in my life. “Toad” wasn’t any worse than “Charles Barkley,” which was what my brothers called me sometimes.

“Who’s the singer?” Amber asked. “He’s dreamy.”

“Mason,” Skye said, then leaned closer so we could hear her over the music. “So I was talking to Linda the other day, Charlie, and she showed me your pictures. They were great.”

“She did? Sorry you had to suffer through that. She’s just proud.”

“Of course she is. She’s going to be your Mama Lou soon too,” Skye said, giving me a wink.

My mind flashed back to the image of my mom in the car, smiling at me. “She’s not going to be my mom.”

I must’ve said it with an edge, because Skye’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean your real mom. I just meant that she’s everyone’s mom.”

My skin itched. “I think I’m going to go dance for a while.” I pointed to the group in the center of the room. I needed to burn off the stagnant energy hanging around me.

“Me too,” Amber said, trailing after me.

Dancing wasn’t quite the same as running . . . or any sport, for that matter. I didn’t feel like I had a purpose, a goal. But after a while I let my mind relax and realized not everything had to have a point. Some things could just be for the fun of it. I looked over at Amber dancing next to me. She smiled, then hooked her arm in mine and twirled me around. My surroundings blurred and I soaked the moment in, deciding this night was something I could do again.