To anyone else, it would have looked like I agreed withthem. ToCharlie, it would have sounded like I agreed with them.
I didn’t.I fucking loved Charlie’s dress that night. It made her green eyes pop and clung to every curve of her body. I don’t think I had ever seen her in anything like that dress, and when I walked into our room that night, she stole my breath away.
And I love the gap between her teeth, and the way it used to peek out at me every time she gave me a genuine smile—the kind where she forgot to feel self-conscious and just let all her happiness out. When I first met Charlie, those smiles were rare. It wasn’t until she started to trust me that they came more freely, and it guts me to have lost them.
I’ve never really met anyone like Charlie before. Someone so willing to put other people first, even if it means forgetting about herself. She wears her heart on her sleeve, but she keeps her pain tucked close up against her chest, hiding it from the world.
All because she spent years being torn apart by her bitch of a mother.
My heart drops as it fully sinks in that I let my friends do the exact same thing. I might have told myself it was fine because Charlie wasn’t there to hear it…but she was right when she said that someone who loved her would never let anyone speak about her like that in the first place.
Ididlove her, so why did I stay silent?
“I sense an epiphany in the air,” Marisa chirps.
A rough, broken chuckle leaves me. “Why did I do it?” I rasp.
“I don’t know,” she says gently, coming around the counter to press a hand to mine. “Just like I don’t know why Bliss has this incessant need to tear others down to make herself feel better.”
Her tone is contemplative, and it’s just enough to offer me a distraction from my own misery. “Has something happened? Did she do something?”Else,I add silently.Did she do somethingelse?
“No,” Marisa murmurs, eyes darting away from mine. “I’m just having a few epiphanies of my own. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to smack some sense intoyou.” She takes her hand off mine, leaning over the counter to snag her mug. She lifts it to her lips, swallowing, before asking, “What’s your plan?”
“What d’you mean?” I ask dumbly, looking around the kitchen like the walls might have answers for me.
Marisa furrows her brow, staring at me like I’ve fallen out of a stupid tree, hitting every branch on the way down. I don’t really blame her, because Ifeelthat stupid.
“What’s yourplan?” she asks again, slow and loud, as if that might make the question sink in. “How are you fixing this with Charlie?”
I look at her helplessly. “How am I supposed to fix it when she won’t talk to me? She’s probably at Barrett’s and—” My throat goes so tight, I almost choke on my own spit.
I don’t want to imagine her with him. They’ve been friends their whole lives, but something about him has always left me on edge, certain he must harbor feelings for Charlie.
I mean, who wouldn’t?
She’s perfect.
And Charlie is so willing to lean on Barrett when it comes to anything, but especially her family. He has an open invitation to the monthly dinners. Charlie took me twice, and then never again.
Marisa seems to sense my thoughts, because she flicks one brow up, wondering, “Bliss has beenyour friend for years. Not as long as Barrett and Charlie, butyears. Do you have feelings for her? Would you sleep with her?”
My face scrunches into a look of disgust. Not because Bliss isn’t a good-looking woman, but becausehell no. She’s a ballbuster, and that’s awesome. Bliss is strong, independent, and she doesn’t take shit. She’s all hard edges and cutting words, and when I come home after a long day, I wantsoft.
I want Charlie.
Bliss would probably tear my head off and eat it, calling it comfort.
Marisa laughs softly, shaking her head at me. “Guess that answers that question. Now, if that’s how you feel about Bliss, how come you don’t trust that Barrett and Charlie are the same?” Her voice takes on a lecturing quality. “Men and women can be platonic friends without developing any kind of feelings, physical or otherwise, for each other.”
“I know, I know,” I say, hands up to cut off the speech I sense coming. “They’re just…” I swallow hard, hating how insecure this is going to sound. “They’re so close, Ris. They talk to each other about everything, including their relationships. And he’s?—”
“Super masculine? Muscular? Good-looking? A big ol’ teddy bear?” Her blue eyes flash, and I shudder, horrified at what she might be imagining, but she tells me anyway. “Swear to god, I’d climb that man like a tree.”
“Jesus,fuck, Ris!” I complain loudly, stomping away from her like that might erase her words, and she giggles. I scrub a hand through my hair, confessing, “I hate that I feel threatened by him, but if something goes wrong, Charlie callshimfirst. Sometimes…”
“Sometimes?” she prompts when I don’t continue.
I shoot her a look, a warning not to judge me, and she nods. “Sometimes, I just don’t feel needed. Like she’d be fine without me because she has him. And it sounds pathetic, but?—”
