Sweet Girl by Quell T. Fox
Charlotte
Dinnerwasuneventfulandawkward,tosaytheleast.MomandJonathanbarelyspoke.Itriedtomakesmalltalk,butneitherofthemseemedinthemoodtospeak.Ialsotooknoteduringdessertthatmomwasn’twearingherengagementring.Whenandwhydidthathappen?Isthatwhyshewantedmehomesobadly?Issomethinggoinon?
They’ve been engaged basically since they met, but never set a date. Mom didn’t talk to me much about her relationship with Jonathan and I always assumed it’s because things were going well. You know, nothing to talk about. But maybe things aren’t going so great after all.
A little flutter of hope swells in my chest but I shake it away. It doesn’t matter if they break up, he’s still off-limits. How could I tell my mom I’m dating her ex-fiancé? Not that I am or ever will be. That’s against all kinds of rules. It has to be... right?
We don’t speak much during dinner, but now that we’re finished, with Mom and Jonathan both nursing beers, she decides she wants to chat.
“Tell us about school, Charlie. How are classes going? Have you met any boys?”
“Classes are good, most of them are pretty easy so far, though it’s only my first year. I’ll have a few more difficult ones coming up.” I pick up my glass of water, put the straw in my mouth, and suck. Jonathan’s eyes meet mine and I nearly choke when I find an intense heat in them.
“Excuse me,” I say, interrupting my mother who looks as if she was just going to speak. I quickly get up from my chair and rush to the bathroom.
These feelings are wrong. So wrong. Maybe I should have hooked up with one of the guys from school before coming back home, get rid of some sexual energy. Someone wouldn’t have been hard to find. I have a few I’ve hooked up with more than once since being away. Maybe that’s all I need to help me get by. Every single one of my sexual experiences has been about him. His dick was the first I’d ever seen. The first time I saw someone pleasing themselves, was him. The first time I touched myself, was to the thought of him. It’s like he’s my first everything without knowing it, and we all know how us girls tend to obsess over our firsts. Especially considering the guys I’ve slept with haven’t been good enough to keep my attention or push the thoughts of Jonathan away. And I realize now how pathetic that is for a nineteen-year-old girl.
I need to find something… a distraction. Something to keep my mind busy for the summer. To keep my mind off and away from Jonathan.
I rest my hands on the porcelain sink and take in a few deep breaths. Why was he looking at me like that? And why am I acting like this? It’s ridiculous and borderline embarrassing.
Get your shit together, Charlie.
“I should have stayed at school,” I mumble to myself.
I run the cold water and put my hands under until they’re practically numb. I pat my cheeks and the back of my neck with my wet hands, hoping to calm myself down.
I think what I need to do is find someone to hang out with while I’m here, maybe catch up with some old friends from high school. Do normal nineteen-year-old girl things.
When I leave the bathroom and get back to the table, Jonathan and my mother are already standing, waiting to leave.
As soon as we get home, I run to the laundry room right away, knowing I need to switch everything to the dryer if I want sheets to sleep on tonight. I’d like to get it done while Mom is still home so there isn’t a chance of me seeing… anything.
When I walk down the hallway, back towards the stairs, I hear heated whispers coming from the kitchen. I pause, and strain my ears to listen.
“She’s your daughter. You couldn’t take even one day off to spend time with her?”
“What do you want me to do? I have bills that need to be paid.”
“Bills will always be there, your daughter may not. I get not wanting to spend time with me, but your daughter should be more important,” Jonathan hisses. When he walks out of the kitchen, our eyes meet for the briefest moment and they’re angrier than I’ve ever seen, though I can sense it isn’t towards me. I watch as he turns and heads into the den, closing the door behind him. I start up the stairs, not wanting to deal with whatever is going on between them.
I should have known this is the shit my mother would pull. Guilt me into coming home to spend time with her, only to never be around. Over the years, there have been promises of family vacations and one on one time. After a while, the disappointment never even had a chance to rise because her letting me down was already expected. I thought things would be different this time because I’d actually been away. It was the longest I’d ever gone without seeing my mom. My heart warms at Jonathan sticking up for me though… that is new. I’ve never heard him get involved with anything to do with me before. Always opting to allow my mother to parent how she wanted. Ya know, the NACHO method or whatever.
“Charlie?” I turn around to find my mother standing in the kitchen archway. “I have to head to work. You going to be okay?”
I put on a smile as best I can. “Of course, Mom.” She smiles back, grabs her purse and keys, and heads out the door.
I can’t say I’m surprised. Yes, I wanted to spend time with my mother. But really, I’d rather have stayed at school to catch up on work and even could have taken extra classes. The good thing about her still going to work, now that I’m here, is that I can still catch up on summer work at least. Mom has always been a workaholic. If she hadn’t had me when she was young, I know she wouldn’t have had me at all. She is not a kid person. She enjoys her freedom and loves her job. I know she loves me, but this is just how things are, how they’ve always been. I accepted it a long time ago.
When I get upstairs, I pull my laptop from my bag and open it up. I connect to the WiFi, figuring the password is still the same as when I left—it is—and open up my social media page. I scroll through and find one of the girls who was more popular in school, then look through her friends list. I’m rarely on this page and have minimal friends because of it, but maybe it’s time to change that. Looking through the list, I send a request to everyone I remember, but one person sticks out to me more than the others. Jace Winston. Someone I remember very well. I promptly send him a friend request, and he accepts it right away. I click on his page and look at some of his posts. It’s mostly sports stuff, but it doesn’t seem he uses it all that much either. I check his profile picture which was uploaded last week. He’s standing in the middle of a field, shirt off, and holding a football. Something that clearly hasn’t changed.
He looks the same, just a bit older and more in shape. He’s tanner and his hair seems blonder, his muscles are bigger. Everything about him is just… more. I always remembered him being tall, but something about him buffing up makes him look much more like a man than the awkward kid from my past.
My computer dings with a new message and I open it up.
Jace: Charlie, is that you? It’s been a while.
Well, that was fast. I smile at the thought, wondering what went through his head as he saw the request.
Me: Hey! It’s me! I just got back home, what have you been up to?
Jace: A lot of the same. How long are you in town for? We should catch up.
Me: All summer. That sounds like a great idea, when and where?
The three little dots pop up and go away a few times, before he finally sends his message, causing me to get a little impatient, eager to see what he has to say.
Jace: What are you doing right now?
A smile crosses my lips.
Me: Getting ready to see you?
I chew on my bottom lip in anticipation. I’ve never had a problem saying what I’m thinking, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t get nervous over the outcome.
Jace: Pick you up in half an hour!
Jace was always nice. We had a lot of classes together throughout high school, we just hung out in different cliques. He was a football player and I was just a no one. I didn’t fit in with anyone really. I wasn’t preppy, I wasn’t into sports. I wasn’t nerdy. I was just me. Just Charlotte Evans.
I’d consider us friends, not enough to keep in touch but we hung out a few times here and there. I could tell he had a thing for me, but I always ignored it. Not having any interest in him for more reasons than one. Mostly because he was an immature high school boy, just like the rest of them. But as a friend, Jace was cool.
I dig through my clothes and find a cute outfit to wear and change quickly. I then head into the bathroom to fix my hair a bit, just running a brush through it to get out the tangles.
When I get downstairs I notice the door to the den is still closed and I refuse to go in there, in fear of what I will find. Instead, I shout to him. “Going out! Be back later.” I grab my keys and head out the front door.
When Jace’s red Toyota pulls up, I jog to it, open the door, and get in.
I’m not saying I’m going to sleep with Jace. But if it happens, it happens. Anything to get Jonathan off my mind.