“Good,” Robert says. “Because I already googled the nearest hospital last night just in case.”
“You would,” Charlie mutters.
“Of course I would,” Robert shoots back. “You’re my son. Derrick is family. I plan ahead.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” Caroline says quietly, eyes on Charlie now. “If I pushed too hard …”
“You didn’t,” Charlie says quickly. “Mom, this isn’t … it’s not about you. Or the speech. Or the trip. It’s just … my brain being an asshole.”
She blinks rapidly, fighting tears again. “Well, your brain is wrong. You are safe. You are loved. And nobody here fears you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Faith says dryly, nodding at my face. “I’m watching that right hook.”
“Not really helping, Faith,” Everly tells her.
She shrugs. “What? Dark humor is our family’s love language.”
“She gets that from me,” Robert says proudly.
Charlie finally looks at me, guilt still written all over his features. “D, seriously, if you want to take it easy today, stay in, spa day, whatever, I get it. You don’t have to …”
“I want to ski,” I cut in. All of them stare at me like I’ve just announced I like women. “What?” I ask. “We came all this way. There’s snow. There are mountains. I want to ski. I’ve never skied before.”
“You hate sports,” Charlie states.
“Seems like today is a good day to start loving them,” I tell him. “I refuse to let one bad night turn this into the Charlie Trauma Show. We’re here to have fun. So, I’m going to get Everly to put concealer on my face, then we’re going to go up a mountain, and I’m going to humiliate myself in front of rich Swiss people. That’s the plan.”
“You don’t have to hide it. A lot of beginner skiers have black eyes.” She smiles over her mug of coffee.
“Good to know, but I’m vain, so …” I smile.
Charlie watches all this with a strange expression, like he can’t quite believe I’m not shriveling up in a ball in the corner.
I catch his eye. “We’re okay,” I mouth.
He swallows, nods once.
Ten minutes later, I’m sitting at the dining table with a beauty blender dabbing at my face. “Your skin is flawless,” Everly grumbles.
“It’s my gay superpower.” I smirk at her. “Plus, moisturizer is my religion.”
“Okay, turn,” she orders.
I obey.
She taps, blends, and dusts, then sits back, satisfied. “There. You look like yourself, just … slightly less assaulted.”
I check my reflection in my phone camera. The bruise is still faintly visible if you know where to look, but it’s muted, softened.
“It’ll probably show through more when the swelling goes down,” Everly warns. “But for today, on the mountain, you’re good. Helmet and goggles will cover most of it anyway.”
“Helmet?” I echo weakly.
Faith smirks. “What, you thought they’d just let you hurl yourself off a mountain with your raw skull?”
“Honestly, that sounds very on-brand.”
Charlie comes over, fingers brushing my shoulder lightly. “Are you sure about this?” he asks. “We can also just take a walk, get hot chocolate, sit by the fire …”
