“Yes, it’s what happens when you’d rather study than play dolls with your sister.”
She laughed and led me to her room where we found Adriana on her phone with some sort of party emergency.
“Hey, Alex.” Adriana waved, then turned to Charlotte. “Sorry I have to love you and leave you. The caterer needs me to pick the final menu.”
“Adriana, you can’t just leave your brother here,” Charlotte rushed, panicked.
“Sure, I can. He’s the computer geek. My Mac is doing some weird cross-eyed guy warning thingamajig. All my songs are on there, and I need them for the party.”
Without any time for either of us to respond, Adriana vanished through the door like Superman on crack.
“I’m not a computer geek, just FYI.”
“You don’t look like a geek,” she pointed out, moving toward her desk where she sat down. “Far from it.”
I stood near the door, unsure of how far I should come in. I’d never been inside Charlotte’s room, and with curiosity, I scanned my surroundings. The color of the walls were olive green, bare and without any picture frames aside from photographs taped on her ceiling. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see the photographs and whose face were in them aside from the fact they look liked they had been taken at school.
Her double bed was sitting in the middle of the room with pristine white sheets, several pillows and a cushion in the middle which said Sleep with Me.
“Nice room,” I mentioned, noticing the books on her nightstand. I’d read the same books in senior high. “What do I look like?”
“Alex… please, you know. You’d be blind not to see it.”
“Well, call me blind.”
“You know you’re hot,” she spoke with poise. “You’re smart. I mean, you’re a doctor! You’re the whole package.”
“The whole package? Obviously, you don’t know me well. I’m not perfect, Charlotte.”
How could I even begin to explain how imperfect I was?
“Maybe not, but you’re pretty damn close…”
It dawned on me that her words were sincere, and I had never heard anyone use the words ‘perfect’ and ‘Alex’ in the same sentence, except for my mother. But the thing which resonated was how confident she was when she said them, leaning back into her chair with her arms stretched above her head, not a single moment of hesitation as the words flew out of her mouth.
As the minutes passed, I found myself unable to look away, caught in the dilemma of wanting her innocence, her purity, but my words came out unexpected.
“What did your mom mean back there?”
“That angel stuff? Long story. Just this legend she believes in. Don’t worry, she’s always trying to bestow her wisdom upon me. I’m eighteen. Isn’t this the time of my life to go wild? You know, get drunk and tattoo some random guy’s name on my ass?” She laughed, biting on a pen while she watched me. “She shouldn’t even be here. My parents are trying to be amicable. Something about trying to settle property they inherited. I kinda zoned out.”
“You’re not like that,” I answered at ease. “Wild and irresponsible.”
“No, I’m not.” She hesitated, distracted by a loud yell that echoed throughout the house. The voices were muffled, but soon I realized it was her parents arguing.
“Alex, you should probably go. This isn’t something you want to hear.” She sighed, her voice saddened by the excessive yelling.
Charlotte threw herself on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her hair a tangled mess around her as a lonesome tear fell down her cheek. Without thinking, I sat beside her, removing a loose strand of hair away from her face.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“You wouldn’t understand. Hell, even I don’t understand.”
“No, but I’ll listen. That’s the least I can offer.”
She wiped her sleeve across her cheek. “You think I’d be used to it by now, you know, my parents being separated. Mom’s here, and I should be grateful they can sit in the same room together…” She paused as if she was trying to find the right words. “I just don’t understand how you promise that ‘in sickness and in health,’ ‘till death us do part’ that you’ll be with one person. How do you hurt someone you’re supposed to love? Dad’s hurting, I know he is, but he’s too proud to show it. My mom doesn’t understand. He still loves her, though he has a crappy way of showing it. She doesn’t look at him the way she used to, or maybe she never did. All she talks about is the past, the big bad wolf, or she refers to them as the dark angels. How they come into your life and steal what’s yours, your heart and soul. I figured out a long time ago it wasn’t my dad. He didn’t steal her heart… someone else did. She never let it go, and now, my poor dad…” she trails off.
“Charlotte, if it’s not meant to be, then maybe your dad is better off. Give him the chance to find someone who’ll love him the way he deserves to be loved.”