"Tell me what you know about Charlie's pregnancy." My mouth gaped open, then closed, like a fish. I wasn't expecting Reeve to ask me that and I wasn't, at all, prepared to answer.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A valid one. You want to know about her, so you're going to have to talk to me first. Answer the question. Tell me what you know about her pregnancy." I ran my hand though my hair, trying to formulate an answer. What kind of information was she looking for? What was it that she wanted me to say?
"I guess there isn't much to tell. I don't know that much about it." I realized my first sentence wasn't so good. I wasn't painting a good picture of myself. I understood that I wasn't going to be able to redeem myself here, but I didn't want to dig myself any deeper either. It felt like Reeve was my last shot. Perhaps, even, my only shot at getting in touch with Charlie. "I remember that Charlie kept getting sick. I came to the house to check on her one morning and one of the girls at your house said you'd both gone out." I tried to bring back the memories that I'd managed to not think about for so long.
"When you guys came back Charlie was a mess. She was crying and looked really upset. I took her upstairs and we took a small nap. When we woke up she told me she was pregnant." I swallowed hard, knowing that the rest of the story was an ugly part of my past that I hated. I hated who I was in that moment and I wished I could take it back. I'd do anything to take it back.
"I, admittedly, didn't take the news very well. I asked her what she was planning on doing about the baby. I was upset that she wouldn't consider getting an abortion. I got angry and I went back to my house." It was so much more than that, so much more. But I couldn't bring myself to tell Reeve anymore. Those were words I saved for Charlie, if I ever got to see her.
"A few weeks later her dad called me and told me she had a miscarriage. He told me that she wouldn't be returning to school and that she needed some time to heal." I looked away from her, down at the ground, remembering the time I spent trying to give Charlie what she wanted, what her father had told me she needed. "When I finally thought enough time had passed, when I tried to reach out to her, she was already gone." I looked back up at Reeve and her expression hadn't changed. Her eyes were still cold and empty, unforgiving, and that was fine. I didn't need her forgiveness, I just needed information.
"And how many girls did you sleep with between finding out she was pregnant and finding out she'd lost the baby?" Her tone was icy and she was stone cold. If her question was a physical act, it would have knocked me over. I was so caught off guard by it, by what she was insinuating, that I had to force myself to speak.
"I didn't sleep with anyone." Panic slowly started making its way through my body. Those few weeks, for me, were miserable. And I did things I wasn't proud of, found myself in situations I wasn't used to, but I was hurting. It had never occurred to me that Charlie thought I was anything but faithful to her.
"You're a liar, Asher. You're the worst kind of asshole and you don't deserve to know anything about her. You took her away from all of us. I don't believe one word out of your mouth." She turned and made it all the way inside of her door before I managed to put myself in between the door and the frame.
"I'm not lying, Reeve. I didn't sleep with anyone. Am I an asshole? Definitely. Do I deserve anything from you or Charlie? Absolutely not. But what does Charlie deserve? I think she deserves to hear an apology, at the very least. She deserves to be able to tell me how she feels about me and what she went through. You say she's been lost all this time? Let me try and help her find a way back. I can't do that without your help." She still looked like she wanted to kill me. She pointed a finger at me and her eyes narrowed.
"I don't believe one single word you've said. Let me make that clear. Whatever happened between you and her, is between you and her. If you find her, if you convince her to listen to you and you hurt her again, I will find you. I will find you and I will hurt you like I wanted to thirteen years ago." She paused, contemplating. "If you're telling the truth right now, you need to find Charlie and tell her."
"That's all I want to do. I want to tell her the truth. I want to tell her everything. Please. Help me find her."
"Much like the last thirteen years of my life, I have no idea where she is. Good luck finding her. You're the reason she's hiding." Her words pushed me backward, out of her doorway, and she slammed the door in my face.
Well, fuck. I was no closer to finding Charlie as I was before I spilled my guts to Reeve. I groaned in frustration and walked back to my car. I slammed my fist into the steering wheel a few more times, trying simply to calm down. It had been a long time since I purposefully remembered everything that happened between Charlie and me. After a few deep breaths I was feeling less antsy, but I was still at a loss as to what I was going to do next. There really was only one more place to go and I hadn't been there in weeks.
A half hour later I was parked outside of Mr. McBride's house. That house was bittersweet for me. It held some of my favorite memories. Some of the best times we had together were in that house. But the best memories were also the worst. I can recall sitting on her couch watching movies on Saturday night, wanting so badly to put my arm around her, not being able to pay any attention to the movie on the screen. I was consumed with the thought of just reaching behind her and gently wrapping my arm around her shoulder, pulling her into me and holding her. I wanted to inhale her perfume, run my fingers through her long hair, to feel the warmth of her pressed up against me. But I never could muster enough courage to just do it. I missed the plot of many movies that way.
I was so afraid to lose her friendship, so worried that if I told her how I felt that I would scare her away or ruin things somehow. I put our friendship ahead of all of my feelings for years. She was so pure and inexperienced that I was convinced she didn't feel the same way for me, or that there was no way she would want me. There was no way I was lucky enough that the one girl I had feelings for shared them for me. It was truly the summers apart that solidified the real us. Everyone always talked about distance making the heart grow fonder. No one ever told you that royally fucking up and pressuring the one person you love more than anything in the world to get an abortion makes her heart break into thousands of pieces. I guess that reality was implied.
Even though the McBride house was filled with memories of Charlie, there were an equal amount of memories of her father there too. He was a good man and some part of me would miss him. He'd been kind to me when he really had no reason to, when he probably shouldn't have been. But that was the kind of man he was.
I stared at the house for a good ten minutes and I hadn't seen any indication that anyone was inside. There was no car in the driveway and no car parked on the street nearby. No lights were on. I wouldn't have been surprised if Charlie had decided not to stay there. Not only was it the house that held all the memories of her father, it was also just down the street from my childhood home. If Charlie wanted to avoid me and any thoughts or memories of me, this house was not the place to be. But it was my last hope. I figured, as difficult as it might be, she would have to come back at some point to handle the business of the house. I hoped I could be here when and if she decided to make an appearance.
Chapter Seven
Charlie
I stood in front of the fogged up mirror of my cheap motel room. My hair was wrapped up in a towel, twisted up on top of my head, another towel wrapped around my body. I reached out and used my hand to wipe away the condensation from the mirror and saw someone staring back who I didn't entirely recognize. I was thinner than I had ever been, my cheeks hollowed and gaunt. My collarbone protruded and my ribs could be counted. I didn't like the way my body was rebelling against me.
I hadn't been able to eat for a week. My appetite was non-existent and if I tried to force something in my stomach, it was rejected. I was surviving on coffee and oxygen. I knew I wasn't going to be able to continue this way; something had to give.
After the reading of the will, after my eyes had seen him, I fell into a darkness that I wasn't sure I was fully out of yet. I was caught completely off guard seeing standing just a few feet in front of me. I'd imagined that moment a million times in my mind, but when it came down to it, I froze. I panicked. My heart betrayed my mind by wishing that he came there to comfort me, hoping that he rose above the silence we'd condemned ourselves to so long ago, thrown all the rules of heartache out the window, and just came to be with me. My mind berated my heart, reminding me of what he'd done, what he hadn't done, what he'd wanted me to do. I was in the worst kind of purgatory because I was battling with myself. I felt guilty for still wanting the old Asher to comfort me and I felt weak that I couldn't grasp on to the anger and move on. I had grown weak in more ways than one, it appeared.