Charlotte
“You’re the last person I expected to see.” Jacob’s voice is low. He doesn’t bother looking my way, like he already knows it’s me in the room with him.
I fidget with the strap of my purse just inside his hospital room.
After Duke left, or more like after asshole me kicked him out, I laid on the couch and cried while Rachel played with my hair. Tears ran like a river down my cheeks, onto my neck, to the place where I love Duke to kiss me most. All the crying in the world wouldn’t take away the hurt, so I came to the first place I thought I’d get some answers.
Jacob has always been the person I go to for advice. It doesn’t seem fair, but old habits die hard, and the masochist in me wants to punish myself a bit.
“Yeah, well, here I am.” I wag my head from side to side, like I’m weighing the odds. Do I go in on one side, or do I stay out on the other? The two have an epic battle in my head.
“You can come in, Charlotte. I don’t have anything else left to hurt you with.” Jacob pats his mattress, inviting me to sit.
Take a deep breath. He’s still Jacob. He may have knocked up some girl while we were still together, but I broke up with him. I need to remember that. I broke up with him for legit reasons that didn’t change because of our situation.
“You look like someone ran over your family dog again, Char.” At the mention of Poodle, I glance up, angry. “Okay, poor joke, but seriously, Charlotte, you are looking at me like I’m the damn devil.”
“You aren’t the devil.” I toss my purse on the chair and sit on the edge of the mattress, my legs extended in front of me, awfully close to Jacob’s head. “A close runner up. You’re more like the devil’s apprentice.”
Jacob’s laugh brings back a flood of memories. Childhood summers spent in the treehouse, laughing over something stupid we forced Wes to do. That time seems so far away from this hospital room.
“You’re lighter.” Jacob adjusts the pillow and sits up in bed. “I don’t know what it is, but you seem... Your eyes are lighter.”
“A lot happened when you were away.” There’s no other way to say it. Coma seems too clinical. “Five weeks is a long time, Jacob.”
“Want to explain?”
“You want to explain your situation?” I skim my hand along the edge of the hospital mattress.
“Charlotte, I got involved with the wrong people, and in the process, Stacey fell in my lap. You’ve pieced together who her father is, and we can say he wasn’t too happy with his daughter and me spending time together.” Jacob shakes his head. Anger fills his eyes, but it’s not directed at anyone but himself. “I owed him money, too, so I’m sure that didn’t help.”
“How did I not see any of this? How did you keep it hidden from me?” I beg the question, feeling surprised I didn’t see a single sign of the troubles he’s gotten himself into.
“When I disappeared, and I said I had house things to do at the fraternity...”
“You were with her,” I cut him off.
“Or I was at the warehouse, gambling,” Jacob admits.
“What?” None of his words register in my head. Gambling? It doesn’t make any sense. “Why the need to gamble though? I don’t understand.”
“I had hoped to take some of the burden off my parents for college tuition, and now, all I’ve done is rack up a hefty hospital bill.” His eyes scan the room at all the equipment.
“Although noble, Jacob, you’re a fucking idiot.”
How did this become such a mess?
“You think I don’t know that? I got in over my head, and now, I feel like I’m drowning.” He winces as he tries to sit up more. The bruises and broken bones will be a reminder of the mistakes he’s made for a while.
“You’ll float to the top. You always do.” I offer a genuine smile I didn’t know I would have for Jacob.
“This is weird, right? Us sitting here like best friends, pretending we didn’t totally destroy each other.” Jacob’s playful behavior eases some of the ache I feel in my chest. “Now that you know why I’m here, can I explain to you where we went wrong? More like where I went wrong.” Jacob wreaks havoc on the hospital blanket, making a hole in the fabric with his thumb.
Let him explain, my mind thinks. My heart, the bruised ego I have currently, screams for me to run from the room.
“Sure.” Well, looks like the mind won the battle.
Jacob takes a deep breath, his eyes focused where his finger goes in and out of the fabric. At least he’s nervous. If this was easy to explain, I may just have slapped him.
“You and I, we aren’t what we used to be. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because, Charlotte, I do. You’ve been my best friend since your goofy ass tried to steal my treehouse.” He laughs, and so do I, because it’s easier than crying. “I fucked up. Not you. You tried your hardest with me. And coming here to college, even knowing you were following me in a couple of years, it became obvious to me we weren’t on the same page.”
His remorseful awareness of the situation pisses me off. Why didn’t he just break up with me? Why did he allow me to give up all those scholarships to follow him if he knew we weren’t it for each other?
I take a few beats to regulate my breathing. The heat coursing through my veins is a sure sign I’m two seconds from losing my shit.
“What the fuck!” I shout, standing. Yep, there goes my shit. It just waltzed out of the room, leaving Jacob with a really angry, bitter version of me. “Let’s be honest, Jacob, you wanted your cake and to eat it, too.”
“You’re right.” His words are a damn near whisper.
“What?” I stomp to the windows and look out into the large parking lot. Cars come and go, but I stand still, frozen. Jacob greets me with a sad, apologetic smile when I brace myself and turn towards him.
“You. Are. Right.” He enunciates every word so painfully slow, it feels like daggers into my heart. I’m right. “Isn’t that what you came here for, to hear all the wrongs I did to you?” The animosity rolling off Jacob could move a mountain.
“You’re angry with me?” I cover my chest.
“No, I’m not angry. I’m surprised by you.” He mutes the television. “I’m surprised you let Duke think we were still together, especially after you slept with him, and he fell in love with you.”
I scoff. “Duke Anderson doesn’t love me.”
“For someone so damn smart, Char, you sure are fucking dense.” Jacob shakes his head. I’ve never done a thing to disappoint Jacob, and even as mad as I am, it hurts.
Duke doesn’t love me. If he loved me, why didn’t he tell me about Jacob?
Like he can read my damn mind, Jacob says, “It wasn’t his story to tell, and you know that.”
But it was my story to tell him. I could’ve kept up the charade of Jacob and me still being together to his parents, but everyone else should’ve known the truth, and no harm would’ve been done. Instead, I kept it a secret, and right now, in this single moment as I look at Jacob, I’m not sure why I did.
“Why do you think I kept our break-up a secret?” I ask out loud, but shake my head when Jacob’s lips part. I don’t need an answer from him. This is something I need to figure out for myself. I sit on the edge of the mattress again, my blood no longer pumping furiously through my body. The anger I felt seconds ago is gone.
Jacob checks his phone and with wide eyes, he assesses me. Uh oh. Something’s wrong.
“Stacey. She’ll be here soon,” Jacob explains.
“Do you love her?” I ask, because for some reason, I feel like I need to know this isn’t all for nothing.
“I think I could.” His honesty makes the truth sting a little less.
“What are you going to do about all this? A baby? That’s sort of big.” Jacob is going to be a father. The blonde-haired boy who stole my heart a long time ago, promising to never let it go, is going to be a father, and I’m starting to be okay with our new reality.
“I graduate soon.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes do that thing when he gets really excited. This is something he wants. It’s not an obligation or a matter of circumstance. We really were done.
“Hello?” A low voice calls out, followed by a soft knock.
Stacey walks in, wearing a loose sweater and her hands crossed over her chest. At the sight of her, I stand, afraid of how intimate Jacob and I look sitting together on the bed.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Stacey glances at the door, and then to us.
“No.” I spring to my feet. “I was actually just leaving.”
“Charlotte,” Jacob calls, and I pause. The admiration is clear in his soft tone. Stacey doesn’t seem upset by the way Jacob’s head tilts just right, watching me. “You kept it a secret because your heart’s too big. You put everyone else first, and you know that. It’s why I was able to get away with what I did to you.” At those words, my eyes burn, desperate for the relief crying will bring. “You deserve someone like Duke, and I don’t know if it helps, but he wouldn’t have come all the way up here just to tell me you hooked up if that was all it was.”
I nod, and offer him a smile of thanks for the words he didn’t have to say, but knew would ease a bit of my pain.
“Thank you,” I mouth.
Stacey backs away with fear flooded eyes, like I’m going to smack her on my way out of the room.
“I owe you an apology.” I face her. “You were easiest to blame at first, but now, I know you weren’t the problem.” My eyes shift to her belly and then back to her wary eyes. Fair enough. I did call her a hussy. “Congratulations.”
My feet carry me from the room. I’m floating in a content, oddly relaxing fog. Seeing Jacob was the exact thing I needed. He brought clarity to the situation and made me ask myself a few questions I still don’t know the answers to.
Back in the apartment, Rachel sits on the couch, text books strewn in front of her. Her eyebrows perk up, and she twists a pen in between her fingers.
“Hey,” I say, dropping my purse on the couch and keys on the table, next to another set I know doesn’t belong to Rachel. “Who’s here?”
“Charlotte,” Wes’s voice echoes down the hallway.
For God sakes, can I just have a minute of quiet? I’m desperate to slip into my warm sweatpants and slippers and crawl into bed to rest my eyes. Crying takes a lot out of a person. I don’t think I have any more energy to give anyone.
“He showed up. I couldn’t turn him away,” Rachel apologizes, a sympathetic smile that can’t go ignored.
“It’s fine, but if you want to do this, you’ll need to give me a minute.” I hold up my hand, passing by Wes in the hallway.
When I walk back out in my comfy clothes, Wes and Rachel’s heads hang close together while they whisper. I plop down on the couch and cover my body with one of the many throws.
“I owe you an apology,” Wes states.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my voice scratchy, full of sleep.
“You could’ve told me, Charlotte. You’re the closest thing I have to a sister, whether you and Jacob are together or not.”
“Did you know?”
“He’s my brother, Charlotte. I knew about the cheating, I didn’t know about the....” Wes looks down at his stomach. The panic of screwing this up is obvious in the way he hurries his words.
I wave my hand in his direction. “No, don’t worry about it. Jacob opened my mind to a lot of stuff. It wasn’t your story to tell.”
“You saw Jacob?” Rachel asks. I hear the couch adjusting to her absence as she stands. “How was it?”
I stand and look at Wes and Rachel, their expectant glances waiting for all sorts of information I don’t have the capacity to give right now.
“I’m going to go lay down,” I explain.
“Okay, how long should I let you sleep?” Rachel’s worried. She has never once offered to wake me, knowing I love my slumber.
“Until my heart stops hurting.” Dread settles down to the marrow of my bones. The not knowing is enough to kill me. I clutch my chest. What if this never stops feeling this way?
Tucked tightly under my covers, I close my eyes. A pinch of light comes through the curtains, but not enough to make it impossible to fall asleep. Hell, I’m certain I could find slumber anywhere at this point. Sleep is all I need.
I wake with a fright and jump from the bed. Sweat covers my body, drenching my tank top. I rip my slippers off and take deep, even breaths. The dream felt so real, I could practically feel Duke’s body next to mine.
We were in a bed, but the cool wind was whipping around us. I was still warm. Duke made sure to hold me close, and when I leaned up to look around, we were at the cement walls. As soon as I started to read, the words scrawled on the wall disappeared.
“Everything is gone,” Duke whispered.
He could’ve been right in my room, but when I woke, disappointment filled my heart.
I open my drawers, looking for shorts and a sweatshirt. It’s chilly outside, but I’m burning up on the inside. Adrenaline carries my searing body through the apartment.
“Where are you going?” Rachel yells, peeking her head out of her room. Her eyes inspect what I’m wearing, landing last on the tennis shoes dangling from my fingers. “Going for a run?”
“Something like that. I’m not bringing my phone.” Without putting my shoes on, I burst through the front door.
“Charlotte.” Rachel follows me out into the hallway. “Are you okay? You seem spastic.”
“I just need to clear my head.”
“And you can’t do that here?” She glances back through our open apartment door.
“I’m looking for a beautiful mess of answers.” I don’t wait for her to try to convince me to stay because I don’t need to talk. Movement and fresh air is what I’m desperate for. It’s crucial to figure out a way to hurt a little bit less.
I head towards the unused trail that starts right outside of our apartment complex.
Instead of walking, I run, remembering the morning after Duke and I slept together. The burn in my chest. The rhythmic way my lungs beg for relief. All this pain feels therapeutic in some weird way. It also makes me feel closer to Duke.
When I reach the top, I pull back the thick foliage and step inside Duke’s little oasis. He’s right. To most people, this is an abandoned lot, full of half cement walls and graffiti. But it’s more than that. I can feel people’s troubles melting away, and I need more than a few of mine to disappear.
Being here is the right thing for me, so I sit on the cement wall in the middle of the opening and read each piece of work. Words describing how people felt in the exact moment they felt it. Quotes from books and poems.
I jump down and walk to a nearly naked slab of cement. Two words, love and animosity, are painted in precise cursive. Whoever wrote it means those words, and I start to think how well they go together.
I grab a can of spray paint someone left behind, maybe for this exact moment. Many people don’t believe in fate, but I do. I know it’s real because I’m in this place, ready to write my own beautiful mess.
You’re to blame. I underline those three words, in hopes he’ll see them someday and know it was me.
Because you make me feel alive.
Because you say my name like it’s a lifeline.
Because you promise me things without uttering a single word.
I steady my breath and drop the can to the ground. The clink and clunk of metal on cement may be my new favorite sound.
Maybe I fucked this all up, but I’ll never apologize for my reaction. It felt real in the moment, but as the dust settles, I know now my reaction wasn’t a direct response to Duke. It was my ego. I’ve always had the upper hand.
Instead of going straight home, I jog along the streets of campus. Sweat beads on my forehead, burning my eyes as it drips down my face. I embrace the feeling and push, truly running for the first time in my entire life.
It’s nearly dusk when I get back to the apartment. The living room is dark, and the only source of light comes from my bedroom. Rachel’s room is empty.
Gathering my pajamas, I head into the bathroom and flick on the lights. Surprised, I take a step back and scan the room like I’m not alone, but I am. Unless I count the beautiful dress hanging from the curtain rod.
Come to Murphy’s. Before you talk yourself out of this, remember the way he made you feel.
-Rachel
Dammit.
I trail my fingers over the black lace, while my mind runs through different scenarios I could be walking into. Knowing Rachel, she’s up to something. My heart quickens at the thought Duke could be a part of this.
Instead of thinking too hard, I get ready. For what is the question.
I manage to find a parking space in the packed lot. I adjust the length of my dress and walk through the entrance. Rachel stands just inside, and the entire bar stands still, silent in their places, as I scan the space. My mind blurs as I try to figure out what is happening.
“Care to explain?” I question.
Rachel’s smile is filled with relief. Maybe she didn’t think I would show up.
“You’re still you, and he’s still him. Go be those people together, Charlotte.” Her hand rests on my back, and with her light push, I move forward.