Or, I should say, until Charlie sees me.
She’s standing at the front doors of the school underneath a huge sign painted with red and orange letters advertising the Fall Festival on Saturday. Leaning against the stair railing with her ankles crossed, a few books clutched to her chest, she looks so casual, dressed in her quintessential plaid and black jeans, but her expression is a mess of . . . I don’t even know what. She smiles, but it’s tiny and nervous, her lips parting as she takes me in. Her face twists my heart into a million knots. I’m not sure what I expected to feel after last night, but right now I feel everything, and it knocks the wind out of me.
Then I remember Tess’s voice on the phone the other night, a person I still know nothing about because my best friend won’t tell me. And I remember last night with Charlie, how perfect it was. But was it perfect because we’re better off friends, or because we’ll never be only friends?
The question makes me dizzy. As the little green flecks in Charlie’s brown eyes get closer, I don’t know what else to do but smile and force my chin into the air between us.
“Hi,” I say as brightly as I can manage.
“Hey,” she says, her voice a scratch. She clears her throat. “Hi. Hi, Alex.”
“Hey, Charlie.” I can feel him glancing between us as we stare at each other. “Um . . . I need to go to my locker. See you later?”
“Yeah,” I say. He nods at Charlie and disappears into the school.
“So . . . you’re hanging out with Alex?” Charlie asks.
I shrug as if it’s no big deal. It shouldn’t be. But Charlie knows better than anyone that Alex and I have never hung out on our own. Still, that was before. Before everything.
“A little,” I say.
Charlie frowns. “Since when?”
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Since when? suddenly seems like a very complicated question.
“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” she asks.
“I didn’t think there was anything to tell.”
She tilts her head, her eyes softly narrowed on me. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
And this is our new dance, a quiet movement of bodies trying to find the right position. Not quite best friends anymore, but not quite brave enough to say why. The truth is, I did mean to tell Charlie about Alex. I even wanted to tell her that we kissed, though I’m pretty sure the kiss was a one-time desperate grab for . . . something. But then Tess was on her phone and then Charlie was on a stage, her guitar and voice spinning magic and stars, and we were happy and I never thought of Alex again the entire night. Charlie eclipsed everything, and there’s a tiny flicker in the back of my mind that knows that means something. Exactly what, I don’t know and I don’t care and I can’t care right now.
“I brought you these,” Charlie says, setting a few books into my arms.
Looking down, my stomach flips gently. They’re guitar lesson books. “You’re not going to teach me?”
“No, I am. Just thought you’d want to look at them before.”
Tess doesn’t need them? The words nearly fall from my mouth, but I shove them back behind my teeth.
“Thanks,” I say instead. “When should we start?”
“Whenever you want.”
“Okay. This weekend maybe?”
“Okay.”
It’s all so polite and tempered.
“What’s with the skirt, Mara?” she asks.
For a second, I’d forgotten what I’m wearing. “Oh. Hannah’s coming back today.”
Charlie lifts her brow. “She is?”
