Maybe I’m scared of the truth.
CHAPTER 13
Charlie
August 2012
I wake to the sound of a door closing. It takes a moment before I put the pieces together.
Quinn’s bed is empty.
I immediately jump out of my bed and run to the door. I peer down the hallway with no sight of her. I rush back inside and grab my phone. It’s 2 a.m. Where the heck has she gone at this hour?
Before I text her, I check her dresser. Her car keys are still here, but her purse and phone are gone. She didn’t text me or leave me a note. It’s definitely possible she’s sneaking out for a booty call, but without her keys? Maybe Asher is picking her up. But why 2 a.m. and why wait until I’m asleep? If it’s a booty call, she would flaunt it. Something is wrong if she’s trying to be sneaky. She doesn’t want me to know what’s going on. I’ve never seen Quinn act like this before.
I can’t help but think this has something to do with the phone call she got last night. What could Quinn possibly be hiding from me?
I text her even though I have a feeling she would rather I didn’t know she is gone.
Hey, everything OK? Where did you go?
I wait a few minutes with no response, so I text her one more time.
Where are you? I’m worried!
Still no response.
What are you hiding, Quinn?
CHAPTER 14
Charlie
August 2012
The click of the electric key-card lock startles me awake.
My eyes bolt open.
It didn’t take me long to remember that Quinn disappeared last night. I must have dozed off waiting for her. I flip on a dim light next to my bed and check my phone.
No messages, and it’s five in the morning. Clearly, she didn’t care that I was worried, or she would’ve responded.
I leap from my bed to confront her.
I catch Quinn quietly tiptoeing into the room. I cut her off at the bottom of her bed and catch her off guard. “Geez, Charlie, what are you doing?” she yells at me.
“No, Quinn, the question is what are you doing? Where were you? You didn’t respond to my messages. I’ve spent all night worrying about you!” I scream at her.
Quinn avoids eye contact and keeps her head down as she speaks. “I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep, so I went down to the lobby.” She chews on her lip.
She’s lying.
I notice her disheveled hair and she looks like a mess. Quinn never looks like a mess. She steps around me. “Everything is fine. Can you just go back to bed? I’m tired.” She tosses her purse on the dresser and crawls into her bed.
I continue to press her. “Quinn, what’s going on?”
She turns her body toward the wall and pulls the covers over her head. Her messy long blonde hair sweeps along her pillow.
“Charlie, just let it be,” Quinn mumbles from under her blanket.
I stumble back to my bed and do as she asked.
Quinn is quiet.
I let it go. I could press her, but I know the outcome will be the same. I lie silent in my bed with my thoughts running rampant.
About ten minutes later, soft sobs emerge from Quinn’s bed. I don’t bother to ask if she’s OK. I know she won’t tell me the truth. She is not doing this for my attention. Something is really going on with her.
I close my eyes. I want to sleep, but images of Jenny smiling and laughing engulf my memories yet again. Then like clockwork, the shadowy reality veils over all the joy, and the darkness sets back in.
Rapids waves of crimson rush against my eyelids.
Jenny screams.
CHAPTER 15
Charlie
October 2008
“Are you serious? I can’t have another drink. I’m still working off the ones from last night,” I say as Quinn hands me a full cup of foaming beer.
We are outside my apartment complex on the front lawn with about thirty other students. It’s barely 9 a.m. and everyone is acting like it’s normal to drink at this hour. Jenny always told me stories of her college parties, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined they looked like this, nor could I imagine Jenny behaving like all these people.
“You said you would rally with me. This is what rallying is Charlie. Welcome to college,” Quinn responds.
Quinn takes a huge gulp of her beer and runs down the lawn to a group of guys grilling hot dogs and brats. Not exactly what I would call breakfast food.
She comes back with two hot dogs in hand and passes me one.
“Here, eat this. You need something in your belly, then I promise you will feel up to partying. You don’t want to miss out on this rite of passage. This is what college kids do,” Quinn says.
I take a few bites of the hot dog and I feel my tummy filling up. The food is just what I need. Maybe Quinn does know what she’s talking about.
“Hey, let’s make our way down the street. The guy grilling down there told me about a frat party that is supposed to be absolutely crazy fun. Come on, Charlie, let’s go. I’ve never been to a frat party before, and I’m positive you’ve never been either. Please. Please can we go?” Quinn begs me.
I hesitate, my heart pounds inside my chest, and I’m feeling a little anxious about all the new things I’ve done in the past twenty-four hours. This is a lot for me to take in.
Quinn’s face is unreadable as I try to gauge my response. If I say no, will I ever see her again? If I say yes, will I regret it later? Both scenarios bounce back and forth like a game of Ping-Pong in my brain. I weigh each decision and finally settle on my answer.
Uncertainty coats my words. “Sure, let’s do it.”
I stuff the last bite of the hot dog in my mouth, taking my time chewing and comparing myself to Quinn, who woke up as perfect-looking as she was last night. I threw myself together this morning. Quinn offered to fix up my hair, but I didn’t feel comfortable enough to let her. I want to run back inside and fix myself up. Next time I will accept her help—if there is a next time. I feel inadequate next to her.
I can feel her eyes on me now. Could it be my imagination?
“Relax, Charlie. Do you trust me?” Quinn asks.
What kind of question is that? I’ve only known her for less than a day. She is a total stranger to me, but yet somehow, I do trust her. Maybe it’s the early-morning beer or the uncontrolled atmosphere that’s making her my safety net, but it is something.
Quinn doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Come on,” she says as she flings her arm around me, yanking me across the lawn. “This is going to be so much fun. I promise.”
I give in and let her lead me to the party. We walk arm in arm, giggling the entire way, like we’ve been friends forever.
***
I’m shocked as we stand on the sidewalk in front of the frat house. A giant old redbrick building with Greek letters stands before us. I feel like I’m in a movie. I’ve walked down this street before, but never on game day. Everything is amplified today. Over the top. I’m nervous but I’m also very excited.
I’ve managed to miss every game day since I moved here. I heard things got crazy, so I stayed home. It seemed easier that way, and it’s not like I’ve had friends to go and party with. If my high-school friends could see me now, they would think I’ve lost my mind. This was not the Charlie Faye they knew—or the Charlie Faye I knew, for that matter.
This is not me, but on some level, I want it to be.
I’m scared. I’m cautious, but I have Quinn to lead the way.
The yard is long and leaves coat the browning grass. The smell of fall is in the air. I still can’t believe I’m at a college party, and a frat party to boot. Kegs of beer line the fence as far as the yard is long.
We cut through a group of guys decked out in black and gold face paint playing bags on the lawn. They scream and shout and encourage each other to chug. More than one intoxicated person bumps into us as we make our way to the center of the party.
&
nbsp; “We need to find the person selling the cups,” Quinn says, interrupting my thoughts.
“This is absolutely nuts. I thought these kinds of parties only happen in movies,” I admit.
Quinn laughs at my remarks. “Oh, sweet Charlie, we are going to have so much fun together. I’m going to corrupt the shit out of you.”
We finally make our way down keg row to a guy standing next to the first barrel, wearing a gold T-shirt with black painted lettering stating the pricing for his precious red Solo cups.
CUPS:
$5 for Girls
$10 for Guys
I reach in my pocket to pull out a five-dollar bill. Quinn shoots me a piercing look; a look I haven’t seen from her before. She confidently flips her hair back and struts over to the guy in the T-shirt. I can’t help but stare in amazement. This must be how she got the beer last night. She leans over and kisses the guy on the cheek as her hand slowly grabs two cups from his stack. She skips back toward me with two cups in hand, with a huge ear to ear grin.
Quinn offers me one of the cups. “Like taking candy from a baby,” Quinn says, proud of herself.
“OK, that was pretty impressive,” I admit.
We both giggle and run over to an unattended keg. Quinn fills our cups up.
“Sure you’re up for this? I want you to have fun, but I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do,” Quinn says with sincerity.
“I just can’t believe I’m at a party like this. I think I’m OK. Thanks for encouraging me to come.”
I smile and take my first sip of beer and as the foam hits my lips a cop car drives down the street. I quickly lower my cup, and Quinn laughs. “Charlie, they aren’t going to do anything. They would be busting the entire city if they really cared. We just can’t leave the property with an open container.”
Quinn was right, the cops drive by like the entire party is nonexistent.
“OK, I guess I’m feeling more comfortable now. I still can’t believe I’m drinking this early in the day. Quinn, you’re one dangerous girl, aren’t you?”
I watch another group of gorgeous guys tossing footballs while running the length of the yard, bobbing in and out of the crowd. One of them catches my attention and the ball. His tousled chestnut brown hair sparks my interest first. Then he flashes us a huge grin as he smashes the ball down in excitement. There is something about his look that makes me feel like he doesn’t fit in here. Sure, he’s included and playing ball with these guys, but something is out of place. I can’t put my finger on it, and maybe that’s why I am drawn to him. We are both outsiders, at least that’s the story I make up for him in my mind.
Quinn catches me ogling over Mr. Tousled Hair. “Should we go over and say hi?”
I get the feeling she knows I will say no. Is she teasing me?
I can feel my face blushing. “Oh, no, Quinn. I couldn’t.” I want to tell Quinn about Liam and how I will never trust another guy as long as I live. I’ve been hurt worse than she could ever imagine. I’m damaged, but I’m not ready to tell her that story. It would mean I would have to tell her about Jenny too, and I’m not capable of saying those words out loud right now, or maybe ever.
I choke down a huge gulp of beer and with that I let go of the thoughts that were about to invade my headspace. I’m surprised I’m able to wash them out of my mind. Nothing ever seems to work, but this beer has done the trick.
Quinn moves on from her teasing and we make a lap around the party. I’m in awe as I take in my new environment.
I’m stunned when I see a big-screen TV outside on the patio. Now I know I’m in a movie. Who does that? Massive amounts of extension cords run along the patio and back into the house.
“Hey everyone, it’s kick-off time,” a frat guy shouts to the crowd.
A couple of grills are fired up with burgers and brats going. Hordes of people start making their way to gather around the TV. A chant breaks out in the crowd, “Let’s go, Hawkeyes, let’s go.” It’s on repeat until the opening kick takes place.
“You want to watch?” Quinn asks.
“I’m not a football kinda girl. I’m OK if we keep walking around.” I respond.
I couldn’t care less about the game. I want to see what else this party has to offer. I am still feeling out of place, but the more I drink, the more my nerves let go. I’m starting to get used to the taste now too.
We walk around to the back of the house, where I spot two guys in lawn chairs on the roof next to a sound system. I assume they are the self-proclaimed DJs of the party. I had never seen anything quite like it.
“Who’s ready to party?” They yell in unison out to the crowd of people below. Everyone screams and they turn the music up louder. People start dancing and singing. Quinn and I join in.
Hours, and many, many drinks later, Quinn and I are drunk, and I’ve witnessed her flirt with more men than I can now count on my fingers. Not once does she introduce me, but I don’t really care. I’m just enjoying the entertainment of it all.
I’m dizzily sitting down on a lawn chair next to Quinn, wondering how long we’ve been sitting here.
Quinn shouts at me and tosses an empty cup in my direction to get my attention.
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Quinn says, and she takes off down toward a large group of guys. I watch her whisper in one of their ears, and before I know it, Quinn is being hoisted upside down by two guys. One of the guys is Mr. Tousled Hair from earlier. He has one of his hands on Quinn’s ankle and the other on her inner thigh.
Is she trying to make me jealous? My heart sinks. I’m sad for a moment. I didn’t want Quinn to be that kind of girl.
Quinn is now in full keg-stand pose with the tap in her mouth. I watch her chug the beer as the crowd grows around her and starts chanting, “Chug, chug, chug.” A guy off to the side of the keg is the timekeeper. He shouts, “One, two, three . . .”
When the count gets to thirty, Quinn taps the side of her leg, indicating she’s had enough.
The guys put Quinn down. She wipes her face clean with the back of her hand, then wraps her arm around Mr. Tousled Hair and pulls him in for a kiss. He doesn’t stop her.
OMG. She is that kind of girl. I have to look away. I feel a wave of anger rush over me.
When I turn around, Quinn’s running back to me with a smile spreading from ear to ear.
“Did you see that?” Quinn questions.
“Yah, I saw, and then I saw you kissing the guy I was looking at earlier,” I say sadly.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t realize that was the guy from earlier. Don’t be mad, Charlie. I truly didn’t realize.”
I can’t tell if she’s lying or honestly didn’t know.
She pulls a ripped-up piece of paper from her pocket. His phone number and the name Nash is drunkenly written on it.
Wow, this girl moves fast.
Eventually, I’m too drunk to think about Quinn’s possible betrayal. We drink the entire afternoon away.
We walk home, arms linked together like best friends. Quinn leans into me and says, “Hey, I think I should move into your extra bedroom. You cool with that?” Quinn asks nonchalantly.
I can’t help myself and say, “Yes, perfect idea.”
CHAPTER 16
Charlie
August 2012
Daylight desperately attempts to bring life to our hotel room, although a dark cloud still lingers around our beds. I lie still, slightly groggy from the nightmares that ravaged my brain last night.
I can’t bear to close my eyes again.
My chest stiffens and I know it’s time to fold the darkness up in its tight little box and tuck it away before the images sneak into my consciousness.
I stretch, trying to shake the past week off and start fresh today.
I roll over on my side, now facing Quinn’s bed. I’m relieved to see she didn’t feel the need to sneak out again. Her long blonde hair hangs off the bed. She looks peaceful right now.
I slowl
y toss the blankets off and creep toward the bathroom, careful not to wake Quinn. She will need more than just a couple of hours of sleep to get through all she has planned today. I still can’t help but wonder what last night was all about. I highly doubt I will get any answers today though, so I won’t press her. An irritated Quinn is not a fun Quinn. I guess I will let her tell me when she’s ready.
Today could be fun—A beer festival and live music. I don’t remember the last time I did anything social.
Fresh start. New day.
I brush my teeth and get dressed and head down to the hotel restaurant.
I order pancakes, bacon, and a large coffee. I take my time eating because I know Quinn will still be sound asleep for at least a few more hours. The waiter makes small talk with me, but it’s nothing like the attention Quinn would get. I will be paying full price for my breakfast.
***
Back in the room, I’m surprised to hear the shower going. Quinn’s normally a morning person, but I assumed she would want more than a few hours of sleep. I guess I’m wrong.
I grab my book and have a seat on the balcony. Outside, the fresh air kisses my face. I can finally breathe. I take a deep inhale and slowly exhale, trying to center myself. I’ve never had much luck with meditation, but I try, nevertheless. I close my eyes and let the sun heat up my face as I stay focused on my breathing.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The traffic buzzes in the street below, soothing me into a calm relaxation. I hear the whooshing of the cars passing by and chatter from the busy commuters. Calmness covers my entire being; for a brief moment, I actually feel at peace.
Today will be a good day.
***
Quinn finds me on the balcony an hour later. “I’m ready to go,” she says.
I frown in frustration. “I still have to get ready.”
“Oh, Charlie, you always make us late,” Quinn says with annoyance in her voice.
The Pretty Ones Page 7
