Her question hangs in the air and my skin breaks out in gooseflesh, like a sudden arctic blast just cooled the room.

“Well,” her eyes twinkle, like I’m about to tell her the punchline of a joke, “what did you do anyway? I mean, I know Marcus has a temper, but the way he chased you out of the house was pretty crazy, even for him.” She smirks at me, but I can’t return the smile. I can’t even fake it. Instead my gut churns as flashes of the memory that I’d long ago suppressed resurfaces.

“Let’s not talk about this now,” I kiss her shoulder and try to pull her into me. “I’m pretty tired, how about we head up to my loft and get some rest?” I hope she’ll drop it. I hope she’ll let it go.

“Oh come on, I’m not letting you off the hook that easily, are you kidding me? My brother practically throws you out of the house naked, threatening to beat you with a bat and I’m supposed to let it drop? No way. Spill it,” she sits up and cocks her head at me, twisting her full lips to the side.

If you don’t tell her, he will. Who do you want her to hear this from? What side of the story is going to make you sound worse?

I try to toss my stupid conscience from my head like I was tossed from Charlotte’s house, but I’m not as convincing as Marcus in rage mode. No one I know is.

Ever since we were kids, his temper had been the stuff of legends, or at least comic books. He might not have turned green and busted through his shirt when he lost his shit on people, but he was still a destructive, blind-with-rage Hulk. I still can’t believe he is a Pastor. Marcus. The guy who once lost a game of marbles and bashed his bag of cat eyes and oilies against the winner’s face. I always thought the people who were doing God’s work here were supposed to be more like Mother Teresa and less like mafia thugs.

“I’m waiting,” Charlotte presses me and I sit up on the couch, feeling like I’m trying to swim toward the surface under a sheet of ice. Even as I move toward the light, the truth, the confession that’s supposed to make me take that first fresh lungful of air, I can see the cold wall of my past mistakes locking me under, forcing me to drown in a history I thought I’d left behind.

I run my hand over my beard, scratching my chin through the rough hairs and look up at her. Charlotte’s face has transformed from wide-eyed playful insistence to a serious squint.

I clear my throat, but it still feels dry, “So, I’m not sure if you remember much about Sandra.”

“Sandra? His high school sweetheart?” Charlotte frowns like she’s trying to put together a one-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle without looking at the picture on the box first.

“That’s the one, yep. Well, on prom night, we all went camping. Not just us, but almost our entire class was there. It was a drunken shit show. Lots of high school drama, binge drinking, drugs, sex, the whole nine yards.” I breathe in deep as I can almost smell the campfire and hear the anthem of our year, Crazy In Love by Beyoncé and Jay Z, blasting again. I blink away the memories and try to keep myself calm, steady and present in the here and now. I don’t need to relive it just because I’m explaining. It’s alright to leave that shit behind. Besides, I can’t still be held accountable for fourteen-year-old mistakes, can I?

“Gotcha so far,” Charlotte interrupts my scattered thoughts, imploring me to continue with her chocolate eyes.

“Yeah, so, I got wasted pretty early in the night and passed out in my tent. I couldn't hold my liquor back then, so the rum kicked my ass pretty quickly. Anyway, I didn’t know that Marcus and Sandra got into some kind of epic fight. I heard later that he lost his temper at her and made her cry and she told him she was done with it all. She broke up with him in front of everyone and stormed off. Like I said, I learned that all later on.” I scratch the side of my burning cheek and look down at the sofa. I don’t want to see her eyes when I tell her the next part. I can’t face her judgement.

“So, what does that have to do with you?” She sits a little taller and even though she’s a foot shorter than me, I’ve never felt smaller.

“Okay, so, like I said, I was hammered and done for the night when my tent zips open and someone comes in. I wasn’t even sure who it was. I was completely out of it, I swear. Anyway, she couldn’t really wake me up by crying and talking so she tried a different approach,” I swallow hard, “she, uh, well, let’s just say the next thing I knew she was on top of me and I was fucking her.”

“What? Sandra and Marcus were supposed to get married!”

“I know! I know!” I hold up my hands like I’m trying to fend off an attacker, but I can’t hide from the truth. “Listen, I’m telling you one-hundred-percent the God’s honest truth, I didn’t even know who I fucked that night. It was a blur. She used me to get back at your brother. As soon as we were done I passed out and Sandra found Marcus and made sure he knew what went down. The next thing I know I’m being woken up again, but this time it’s because Marcus jumped on my tent and was choking me through the fabric. No lie, I thought I was gonna die. If the crowd hadn’t pulled him off, and one of the guys hadn’t driven me home, I think he would’ve killed me.” I’m not trying to make Marcus sound like he was in the wrong for his anger, but I don’t want Charlotte getting the idea that I did this on purpose.

“I can’t believe you’d do that! Marcus and you were best friends since, what? You guys were three?” Charlotte hops off the couch and rushes over to her clothes, tugging them on quickly.

“Lottie, I didn’t know. I really didn’t. I was probably five times the legal limit and some woman started riding me. It’s not like I tracked her down into some corner and stole her from him. She went out of her way to make this happen,” I plead.

“That’s no excuse,” she zips up her jeans and throws her shirt back on. “If you didn’t have loyalty to a guy who was pretty much a brother to you, then you’ll never have loyalty to me. People don’t change, Connor, not that much anyway. Marcus was right, I made a mistake getting involved with you,” her voice cracks and she steps into her shoes. As she turns her head away from me, I see her wipe the tears from her face that were forming in her eyes.

“Charlotte, don’t run off like this! Come on, at least try to see things from my perspective,” I jump up and try to rush over to her.

“I’m sorry Connor, but I can’t. I never knew what made him give up on love or why he devoted his life to the church, but now I know it’s because you broke his heart.” She opens my front door and quickly makes her way to my car.

I stand on the front step, buck naked with my head spinning for the second time today.

“Fuck!” I yell as she backs out of the driveway and I watch her drive out of my life.