The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

5

Nathan

“Oh, Nate! What’re you doing here?” Aunt AnnMarie comes around Charlotte’s empty hospital bed. AnnMarie isn’t really my aunt. Charlotte isn’t my sister. Our families have been one forever, though. I hold out my books and give her a confused look. I’ve been coming every night after football practice for the past week. What does she think I’m doing here?

“I’m here to study,” I say. “And hang out. Where is everyone?” I look around but don’t see Nick or Charlotte. Aunt AnnMarie places a hand on my elbow and starts moving out of the room, but I pull back. “Where’s everyone?” I repeat.

She doesn’t give me a direct answer. Instead, she tightens the grip on my arm. For some reason she wants me to leave. I’m several inches taller than her and probably a hundred pounds heavier. My height and weight make it impossible for most people to move me when I’m refusing to follow them. Aunt AnnMarie is no different. She turns to me and places her hands on her hips.

“You were so much easier to manage when you were a child, Nate.”

“But not as cute, right?” I wink at her because even though she looks a little exasperated with me now, I know she loves me.

“No, you were pretty darn cute as a baby.” She sighs and then shoots a glance at the bathroom door that I just now notice is shut. A buzzing sound is coming from inside and then I hear voices. I can’t make out the words, but because I’ve grown up listening to these voices I know it’s Nick and Charlotte. I start for the door. There’s no way that they need privacy.

Aunt AM places her hand on my arm again and this time the tone in her voice, warning and wary, stops me. “Nate.”

“What’s up?” I don’t understand. I hear giggles which are from Charlotte and then a lower chuckle from Nick. My muscles tense up as they do before I’m about to kick the heavy bag in the gym. I’m short of breath and can feel anger pooling in my stomach.

Nick should not be in the bathroom with Charlotte. They should not be together, laughing behind closed doors. What is with the buzzing noise? The irritating hum shuts off, and I hear my name being repeated in low tones.

“Nate, Nathan, Nathan Jackson.” Aunt AnnMarie finally breaks through, and I look down at her, wondering why she’s repeating my name so many times.

“Yeah?” She still doesn’t have my full attention because I have to know what’s going on in there. There’s a silence in the room and then I hear crying. It’s Charlotte. Shaking off Aunt AnnMarie’s hand, I take three strides across the room and have my hand on the bathroom door. I’m so close now that I can finally hear Nick comforting Charlotte.

“It’s fine, Charlotte. You look fine,” Nick says. Charlotte replies, but I don’t understand her. Neither does Nick. “What?” he asks.

“It’s not fine,” Charlotte says more clearly. “Look at me. I look like a penis head.”

Nick bursts out laughing. “Have you even seen a penis?”

Aunt AnnMarie was tugging at my arm but stops at Nick’s question. I guess we both want to hear the answer to this.

“Um duh, pictures. Remember when Francine forwarded the picture of her brother looking at himself in the mirror?” Silence reigns while we all contemplate this for a second.

“Yeah, that was unfortunate,” Nick snickers. “But you look nothing like Francine’s brother’s penis.”

“Only because he had hair around his dick and I don’t,” Charlotte says. Aunt AnnMarie releases a tiny moan of dismay. I don’t know exactly how I feel that Charlotte has seen some guy’s penis, but it isn’t pleasant.

Nick makes a gagging sound. “Can we never talk about Francine’s brother’s penis again? I’m going to need some brain bleach.”

“I can’t be seen like this,” Charlotte says unhappily. “I look hideous. I’m so glad we did this before Nate came.”

My back bristles. I don’t get why I was shut out of this. Charlotte had talked about shaving off her hair, but I thought it was just that, talk. I’d have done it with her. I wanted to do it. I’m her rock, not Nick.

“Yeah, well, you know I’m standing behind you when he comes because he’s going to be pissed off you did this without talking to him first.”

“He’s not the boss of me,” declares Charlotte. “I’ve already got two parents. I don’t need a third one.”

Is that what she thinks? That I’m trying to be her parent? Disheartened, I allow her actual parent to lead me out into the hallway.

“Nate, honey,” she says, reaching up to brush my hair out of my face. Hair I shouldn’t have. Hair I should’ve shaved off with Charlotte so she could see we’d all be penis heads together if that is really what she looks like. “Charlotte is at a delicate stage. She’s fifteen. She’s starting to notice guys and have guys notice her.” This statement makes me ball my hands into fists, which Aunt AnnMarie notices because she hurries on, “And not that she likes anyone, but she’s very conscious of how she looks. Her emotions are all over the place because of the medications and the surgeries and just all the unknowns of the future.”