CHAPTER 4

 

 

Three Years Ago—The Reconnect

 

Charis: No. Way.

Asher: Hey! Hey, it's you.

Charis: You have to be kidding me. Asher Norrell, is that really you?

Asher: Hey, girl.

Charis: I can't believe it! Whoa, that's some hug. Look at you. Muscles! All grown up and looking good, Ash. What have you been doing? What are you doing here?

Asher: What do you think, Sloane? I'm enrolled.

Charis: Me too, I am too. I can't believe it. Although I guess I should have expected you'd pick MCU. Why go all the way to Cali or Boston when we have our very own tech school right here in-state? What are you, a chem major?

Asher: Not sure yet. Engineering, probably. And you're in…grad school, right?

Charis: Yep, sure am. Just started this year. You knew I was here?

Asher: Mm, I heard. Still gonna be a professor one day?

Charis: Uh-huh, that's the plan. I've got a long way to go, though. Wow. Just…wow. Uh, so. How is everyone? How's Mel?

Asher: They're great. We missed you at the Labor Day picnic. And the Fourth. And my graduation. And Memorial Day. And—

Charis: Yes, well, I do grown-up stuff now. You know how it is. Oh, wait a minute, no you don't. You're just a baby.

Asher: Oh, yeah? Do I look like a baby to you?

Charis: Weeeelll, I'll take the fifth on that. No, seriously, I've been hearing about some of the amazing things you've done. I'm impressed.

Asher: Yeah, I've done all right. Nice hat.

Charis. Thanks. Want some pistachios?

Asher: No. Look, I'm late, but give me your phone. Let's not lose touch again.

Charis: Definitely.

Asher: Good to see you. Really good to see you.

Charis: Yeah. Good. To see. You.

 

Asher

 

AFTERWARDS, I KEPT MY SAVOIR FAIRE. I was in a strangely calm mood, given that I'd just flushed my longest ever relationship down the toilet.

I took a long nap. I shaved. I got down to studying. It was surprisingly easy.

It was only when night fell that reality sank in. That I discovered the huge fucking void in my life.

There was no more warm, soft little body to turn to when I craved some loving. No more stray red hairs in my shower.

Damn. Despite everything, it hadn't been out of the realm of possibility that I'd marry Aura one day. You never knew. It could happen.

And down to the crunch here: I needed a woman to warm my bed. Needed. I literally could not do without one, not with my cock out of control. Sometimes it was so bad I had the urge to jump on whichever female was handy.

Take Charis. My purely platonic friend. Sometimes I was afraid I might…

I stopped the thought. I've stopped a lot of thoughts about Charis over the years.

Ah, fuckit.

All right, it has to be said. I haven't lied to you. Not so much as an innuendo has passed between me and Charis even once. But I'm gonna come clean here. I did have a thing for Sloane, once upon a time, way back when in the days of yore.

Let's call it what it was, a mega-crush.

Picture me at thirteen, before the corrective eye surgery, with the big, thick glasses, my nose always buried in something electronic, my hair unruly, my shirts plaid, and not the trendy kind, we're talking hand-me-downs from a color-blind cousin, complete with clashing colors, buttoned to the throat. Seeing it?

Charis used to come over to our house to spend time with my sister. I didn't care that she was this boyish, gangly creature, with her short brown crop of hair and her plain sweaters and unfashionable jeans that screamed geek girl.

To me she was funny, lively, and smoking hot, not to mention an Older Woman. So one summer day under our fir tree, I knocked her ice cream cone from her hand and tried to kiss her.

Charis set me straight immediately. There was no way a seventeen-year-old girl was hooking up with a thirteen-year-old boy. I might have looked and sounded older than my age, but Charis treated me like the spitball kid I was and let me down gently but firmly.

If she'd been another kind of person, everything would have been awkward after that. But she was cool. She joked around just the same as ever. Eventually she went off to college. And whenever I did see her, she acted like she'd forgotten the incident…and so did I.

I actually hadn't.

But I did this thing where I made myself forget. I'm focused, I can do that.

Point is, I moved on. I steered my cock in other, more age-appropriate directions.

End of story.

So, yeah, sure, I've been thinking about her a lot lately. Once I woke up from a dream where we were recording a parody song together in the style of Weird Al Yankovic.

See? Not sexy. No sex dreams about Charis Sloane were had by me—not for years.

Not that I remembered, anyway.

Well, not with any great clarity.

I told myself it wasn't about Charis. It was about hard-ons. Hard-ons happen. And when they do, I need a woman. Aura had been perfect for that. And I'd let her go.

Crap. Now I'd begun to doubt, and that angered me.

Action I can deal with. Decisions are necessary. Self-reflection can go fuck itself.

I'd already wasted too much time on Aura.

The solution was simple. I'd have to arrange some casual hookups to tide me over. Much as that lacked appeal, I had to have pussy in my life.

In the meantime, I knew what I needed. Who I needed.

Charis. Immediately.

My phone was already in my hand when I saw the text from Karl.

Good news. Alice problem solved. You'll be interested. Details to come.

Okay, that was weird enough to give me pause.

Our straitlaced great grandmother Alice had had this thing for my oldest brother—who was inked, worked in a coffee shop, and liked to walk around in his underwear. For some reason they'd always hit it off. She died last summer at a hundred and four, no lie, and left Karl everything in her will.

Since it amounted to a hill of beans, we all thought it hilarious. Especially the conditions of her will—that he buy a suit and get married before his thirtieth birthday. I'd forgotten he was turning thirty next month.

The text lifted me out of my funk, but not enough. I still needed Charis.

I didn't question it, didn't hesitate. I sent a text. Sorry I've been a lameass last few months. Coming over now. Bringing whiskey. Need anything?

Breezy as I sounded, I had no expectations. Ever since my exile with Aura, we'd been out of touch. Not a word, not a call, not a text—a vast, humorless wasteland, my life without this girl.

And it was late on a Sunday night. She'd say go fuck yourself, she had class tomorrow, she had a date, she wasn't in the mood. I'd have to humble myself and beg (which I would do. Yes, this was worth going down on my knees for).

I paced until I got the return text from her.

Pick up some Old Whisker's Blake for me dude.

 

AT TEN TWENTY, I KNOCKED ON Charis's door with a bottle of port and another of Hudson Bay Bourbon I reserved for serious need.

I leaned on the door post, gazing at the empty hallway with its plush gold carpet. Her apartment building was just off the original MCU campus, having been used as a dormitory way back when, before the university sold it and built fancy new residence halls closer to the quad. Now it just had somewhat pricey studios.

I happened to know Charis's parents funded her rent; she was piss-poor at getting money, didn't care about her digs, and if it were up to her, she'd live in somebody's basement.

Hell, if her parents ever fell through, she'd probably hit me up. I'd pay for her rent, too, no questions asked. Sometimes she whined about her parents so much, I wished she would ask.

The door swung open and I was greeted with a yawn that turned into a broad smile. "Well hey, there, handsome stranger. What's up? It's late. I thought you'd be studying for exams."

I looked into Charis's eyes. They weren't big, green and wide like Aura's. They were squinty, early Renee Zellweger eyes, the irises a light brown, with laughter lines already forming under them. Friendly eyes, warm and welcoming.

I looked her up and down. She wore a humongous black night shirt, a tee that came down to just above her knees. I couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra. I wasn't even sure she wore the things. She was, in her own words, a boobless freak.

Her neck, arms and legs were willowy, her calves pretty decent since she'd gotten into zumba last year. I liked to tease her about her bony knees. Her feet were bare. Her right little toe had a silver ring.

She was Charis. Same old Charis. She looked like the geek she was.

Fucking fantastic to see her.

So fantastic I almost reached out and grabbed her for a hug. But I stopped myself—I don't know why.

"I probably should be." I said, clearing my throat. I was nervous, for some reason. "If I need to, I'll call the profs for an extension."

"Thinking you can wiggle out of things? Ha, I dare you to try, Norrell." She finally remembered to move aside to let me pass.

"They'd agree to a retake," I assured her. I was confident there, having finagled it before, in my wilder drinking days.

"You are such a politician sometimes," she laughed.

I was just inside the door when I paused. I hadn't been exactly sure how I would break it to her, but this needed to be said. "Char…Aura and I just broke up."

Charis froze into stone. Her mouth opened and stayed open. "You. Did. Not."

That made me grin despite myself. "Did."

"Impossible." Her tone was urgent. "No, no, this can't be. Asher, you and Aura are The Couple. People talk about the two of you in one breath, use you as a metaphor after Romeo and Juliet, Abelard and Heloise…"

"It takes more than being invited together to parties to keep a couple going, Sloane."

"An institution, that's what you are…"

She was right. We had been a Marmot Canyon University institution, Aura and I. Everybody knew we were together. My professors asked after her. We received single, not double, invitations to social events. We were "the most tweeted couple on campus." For what it's worth.

It was depressing, when you thought about it.

While Sloane stood there in her doorway as if paralyzed, I reached into my sack and brought out a bottle. She lunged for it, holding it to her chest like a life jacket.

"When did it happen?"

"We fought this morning."

Charis's mouth finally closed a bit, her lips pursing. She continued looking dazed as I attended to the business of getting glasses and pouring.

"You guys always fight. I think of your fights as romantic, kind of Shakespearean. If I be waspish, best beware my sting and suchlike."

"Yeah, well, this one was a dealbreaker."

"Wow," she said, plopping down on her sofa next to me and putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Wow. I just can't believe it."

"Believe it." I downed a couple of shots, leaned back, and closed my eyes.

And relaxed for the first time in months.

Finally.

I was here. I was home. Everything would be fine now. The rush of relief actually made me smile.

I glanced around, comforted by the pistachio wrappers, the clothing draped over furniture, mounds of batteries and electronics piled on surfaces. Charis's long feet rested between two precarious stacks of books. Her bachelor-style housekeeping reminded me of my two older brothers. The place smelled nice enough, so I don't think anything was actually rotting, but there was disarray galore. Nothing had changed. She was just the same.

I felt more tension flowing out of me before I even took one sip of whiskey.

"This really blows." She sounded subdued, like the air had gone out of her. For someone who wasn't a huge Aura fan, my bestie was taking this hard.

"Maybe you'll make up with her," she went on. "Maybe whatever it is she'll forgive you for, or you'll forgive her, or…something."

It was like she was trying to convince herself.

I looked at her curiously. I was starting to wonder if there was something more to her dismay than the obvious. "No. We're done. Truth, Char? It's a relief. My dad always told us boys a good woman would enhance your life, make it better. Fill it up, not drain it dry."

"You're saying Aura drains it dry?"

My balls, for sure. Naturally, I didn't say that crassness aloud. I'm comfortable with Charis, but I try to tone down my dirty mouth some.

I swallowed two more shots working up a more sociable answer. "Let's just say she didn't leave me a whole helluva lot for anything else."

"Did something happen that sparked the fight?"

I hesitated. Should I tell her the part she'd played? I was reluctant to go there, but on the other hand, I didn't want it there between us, unspoken.

"Well?"

"Nobody pulled any new shit," I hedged. "Things have been bad for a while."

"Oh. I didn't know that. Well, how is she? Is she upset?"

"She'll get over it."

"Really. You think?"

I held up one palm. "I hereby make a prediction. I predict Aura Renaldi's life will significantly improve starting now."

As the liquor began to hit my system, it occurred to me how true I spoke. When Aura irritated me, I pulled away, which made her bonkers, which made me pull away, which made her insecure, which made her bonkers, which irritated me….

Yeah, the whole situation had been majorly fucked up. They'd have loved tearing me down as an enabler on reality TV.

"Um, so, I guess, do you want to talk about what happened?"

I opened my eyes. "You really want a play by play, Sloane?"

She shrugged, her cheeks a little pink. "It's up to you. We both know your girlfriend and I never really hit it off, but if you need to talk about it, I'm here for you. You know that."

I hesitated. Historically, the topic of Aura has been do-not-enter for us. Sloane and I have some deep convos, but we avoid waxing eloquent on our love lives. She knew I was into Aura; I knew she dated the occasional loser, and we left it at that.

She gave me space probably because she felt uncomfortable about getting between Aura and me. Or so I gathered from the way she left the room whenever Aura got extra wiggly in my lap.

As for me…

Aura had always made it clear that my relationship with Sloane was a problem. A big one. I didn't want Sloane worrying about that.

But now that I think about it, with the perspective of hindsight, it does imply that Sloane has been between me and Aura from the beginning…