The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)
I gape at him. ““You’re all wrong because Charlotte needs us. She needs me.”
6
Charlotte
I’m grateful that the school keeps the bathrooms so clean because I’ve spent far too much time in them during the last month I’ve been back. After a month in the hospital and then a month at home, they allowed me to come back to school so long as I could hold up. Not wanting to be at home for another day, I’ve been lying to my parents for the first time. If they knew I was in the bathroom sick every day, I’d be pulled out of school in a heartbeat.
I pull out a water bottle from my backpack and swish out my mouth. Reaching up, I close the lid of the toilet seat and rest on the edge, leaning against the stainless steel barrier. The cool metal of the bathroom stall is relieving. Just one more minute, I tell myself, and then I’ll go back to class.
Everyone has been so helpful since I’ve been back, too helpful. I’ve gone from Charlotte Randolph to the sick girl. Someone is always around to carry my books and walk me from room to room. Nate is constantly holding my elbow as if he thinks I’ll fall if he lets go. My tongue is sore from biting back my frustration. I’m trying not to be ungrateful, but I’d like to just be Charlotte Randolph again. Sophomore, gymnast, student.
But every time I try to be normal, something happens to remind me that it’s all different. I have a hard time concentrating in class. Reading at night was once my favorite pastime, and now it is a chore. I’m behind everyone else, and I’ve completely forgotten some basic principles of algebra and geometry. But none of the teachers complain about my lack of progress. Instead, I get smiles of encouragement for just signing my name on the top of a pop quiz or a homework assignment.
It’s early yet, I know this, but I’m afraid if I don’t show regular progress that I’ll be shipped out away from my friends, away from Nate and Nick. I can’t have that happen, so I’m not telling anyone that I’m sick on a constant basis, that I can’t understand even the most basic principles during class, and that I feel like I’m only capable of doing fourth grade work at the moment.
I squeeze my eyes tight and concentrate on breathing. I’m not going to cry, I chant silently. I’m not going to cry.
The bathroom door slams open, and the chatter of several girls tells me I am not alone. I start to stand but the vomiting and the lack of nutrition makes me feel lightheaded, so I sit back down.
“You hosting the Halloween party this year, Claud?”
“Of course, what’s your costume?”
“Pepper Potts, and Ryan is going as Iron Man.”
The conversation gives me the clues to the group outside. It is Claudia Amsden, student body vice president and co-chair of the homecoming committee. Her dad is a plastic surgeon. The girl going as Pepper Potts would be Nina Franchetti. The Franchettis own a number of restaurants in the city. Claudia has a thing for Nate, but I don’t think that he’s given her a second thought. Not because Claudia isn’t gorgeous, but because she’s the same age as Nate. For some reason he’s never dated anyone at school, preferring older girls who go to other schools. He’s probably sleeping with some college student right now. The idea makes my sore stomach clench.
“Have you invited Charlotte Randolph yet?” asks Nina.
Nothing good comes from eavesdropping so I slowly rise to make it known I’m inside, but before I can get the door open, I hear Claudia respond. “Of course. How else are we getting the Jacksons to come? The problem is getting them to stay because Charlotte’s probably too sick to stay long.”
I sit back down. She’s not wrong. I doubt I could last for more than an hour at Claudia’s party or at anyone’s party. And if I have radiation that day, I’ll count it as a success that I can walk from the treatment room to the car, let alone go to any event.
“I don’t really understand why Nate and Nick won’t go to parties just because Charlotte can’t. Do you think she threw a tantrum and they feel sorry for her?” Nina asks.
Ugh. I hate that anyone feels sorry for me.
“Who knows,” Claudia responds. “It’s annoying, but what can you do? They’re not going to do anything without her.”
I don’t want to hear anything more. Opening the door, I smile at Nina’s shocked expression. “I don’t tell Nick or Nate what to do. They have minds of their own.”
Claudia purses her lips. Unlike Nina, Claudia is unfazed by my appearance. Maybe she knew I was there.