His eyes darkened with concern. “Why? What happened?”
“Matthew.” Gasping breath. “Charlie.” Another gasp. I pointed in the direction I came from. “Fighting.”
Even though I’d given him no context, he seemed to catch on quickly and took off without a second thought. His friends looked between him and me, then ran after him too. I took a second to catch my breath before I followed, my lungs burning. The boys were all way faster than me, so by the time I got back, they were already pulling the boys apart.
I stopped a few feet away and stared at them helplessly. How had this whole night gone so wrong?
I cried as I aggressively wiped at my face that night, desperately trying to wash off my makeup. Tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking into my fingers as I mechanically worked my hand from side to side across my face, over and over. My eyes stung and burned as a particularly severe sob wracked my body. I’d been having such a fun time tonight—why did Matthew have to come and ruin it?
I dropped the makeup wipe on the counter and stared at myself in the mirror. The light from the hallway spilled in through the open door, illuminating my bloodshot and puffy eyes, and the streaks of mascara that had run down my face were dark in comparison. I was trying to scrub all traces of the makeup off with a wipe, but it was only making it worse. I felt like a dirty mess. My previously perfect dress was covered in dirt and ripped in the back from falling earlier.
I was a hot mess.
The room started to spin, and I felt a crushing fatigue take over me. All of this was too much, too overwhelming. I was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster that had been my night. I couldn’t bring myself to care about this anymore. I just wanted to go to sleep.
I walked out of the bathroom and slumped down on my bed, burying my face in my pillow. I was trying to come up with a plan, but all I could think about was how upset Matthew had seemed, even after we pulled him and Charlie apart. I had never understood what it meant for someone to be seething with anger until I saw him. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he would kill Charlie if he ever dated me. I never wanted to see him that angry again. Maybe I wouldn’t need to—there was a good chance Matthew would never speak to me again.
It took ages for my tears to finally slow down and even longer for me to find the energy to get up and change out of my dress. I pulled on an old oversized T-shirt that I was pretty sure hadonce belonged to Charlie and had been given to me as a cover-up sometime when we went swimming or something years ago. If Matthew saw me in it and realized what it was, it would probably just make him even more angry, but it was the only thing I wanted to wear right now.
It was probably a bad idea, but I wanted to see Charlie one last time before I went to bed, if only to make sure that Matthew hadn’t torn him limb from limb. Even though it seemed like a monumentally bad idea considering everything that happened, he was staying the night and was right downstairs. It would be easy to just go check on him and make sure he was alright. A bad idea, probably, but I wasn’t known for my good judgment.
Before I could think about it too hard, I walked out of my room and started down the stairs. My father’s voice echoed through the house as he yelled at the boys for everything they had done tonight. My heart squeezed painfully as I was once again reminded of how much I had messed up. None of this would have happened if I’d just told Charlie we couldn’t do this, if I’d refused to kiss him again. But how was I expected to hold myself back? I loved him. I loved him in a way that I thought I wasn’t capable of and that I knew I could never feel towards anyone else. If I couldn’t have Charlie, I would never date again. None of it would ever compare to him. How could I get Matthew to see that?
My heart pounded in my chest as I tiptoed toward the living room doorway, trying to make as little noise as possible. Matthew and Charlie were both sitting on the couch, their eyes trained on the floor. Charlie had removed his suit jacket and, even though I knew it was an inappropriate moment to be thinking it, my stomach fluttered at the sight of him in just his button-up shirt. It looked like it was going to burst from the size of his muscles in the best way possible. I didn’t know he couldlook better than when he was wearing his lifeguard uniform, but clearly, I was wrong.
As if he could feel my eyes on him, Charlie glanced up. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed me, and his face broke out in a grin. I almost sagged in relief. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was that he might not want to be with me after what happened with Matthew. I smiled back and waved. But that wasn’t the best decision, because Matthew must have noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and the second he noticed me, his face settled into a deep glare.
The smile slid off my face, and I dropped my hand. Maybe it didn’t matter how Charlie felt… because Matthew’s feelings clearly hadn’t changed.
nineteen
The breakfast tablewas deathly silent. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, quiet anger simmering just below the surface. Mom—usually one to feel any silence with mindless chatter—was jumping up every five seconds to get something from the fridge like she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as us. Dad was gripping his knife and fork so tight that I thought he would actually bend the metal or cut straight through his plate. Matthew wasn’t even eating; he was just pushing his food around his plate, face twisted up in anger. I wasn’t sure where Charlie was, but my best guess was that he’d left early in the morning to avoid another confrontation with Matthew. It didn’t escape my notice that everyone was avoiding looking at the right side of my face, where a bruise was now dominating. I wasn’t sure whether Matthew had told my parents exactly what happened.
After ten minutes of sitting there in silence, I couldn’t take it anymore. If I stayed there for one more second, I would go insane. I jumped to my feet.
“I’m going to Violet’s house,” I said. My dad looked up in surprise, then immediately looked down again after seeing my bruise.
“Have a good time,” he said quietly. I faltered for a second, a little surprised by the non-reaction, but I didn’t stick around for long.
Outside, I grabbed my bike. I got halfway to Violet’s place before I realized she still didn’t know anything about Charlie—about the summer fling that turned into a relationship, or the fight last night. I couldn’t just show up with a black eye without any sort of explanation. So, I veered off course and continued in a different direction. I wasn’t even sure where I was going until I ended up at the lake.
It felt wrong to go to Charlie’s spot without him, but that didn’t stop me. I needed some time to think, and this was the only place where I believed I could do it. It looked different here in the daytime. The waves were bigger, crashing loudly onto the shore. The sun bounced off the water and shone into my eyes, making it a little difficult to see. But, regardless of both those facts, I didn’t find it any less beautiful.
“I wondered whether I would find you here.”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Charlie walking towards me slowly, hands in his pockets and a casual look on his face like he was just going on a walk. The bruises and cuts on his face were worse than Matthew’s, and I could barely stop myself from flinching when I looked at them.
I stood up from my spot on the swing and closed the gap between us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my girlfriend,” he said. “And I was worried about you.”
I tried to swallow the lump that had appeared in my throat when I heard the word girlfriend. Somehow, I’d completelyforgotten about that part of last night. It had all become such a blur.
