“I wanted you to give me another chance. This place has given me so many opportunities to better my life, and I want to share it with you. Back before I owned this place, I used to spend countless hours sweeping, cleaning, washing windows, and drawing in the back room. This place gave me the tools to succeed in life. Sure, I might still be a little cocky, and I’ve been with far more girls than I bet you care to image, but inside those walls is a place that I can be the real me.”
Opening my door, I motion for her to follow me as I climb out. Jingling my keys, I grab the front entrance door and slowly turn the lock. “Now, I know she is still trashed from what happened, but the soul of the place is still very well alive.”
Holding the door open for Charlie, I smile as she tentatively walks over the threshold. Flicking the light on, I smile while looking around. Cameron and the construction company had already removed the front counter and damaged furniture, leaving nothing in the main area besides dark red walls covered in graffiti and pony walls dividing the guy’s personal spaces.
“I’m so sorry,” Charlie whispers. Her hands wring around one another nervously as she walks further into the building.
“Don’t be, Charlie. What happened sucks, and I don’t think it can ever be erased from my memory. But now we have the opportunity to reinvent the place.” Standing in the middle of the shop, I smile at the damaged structure. “I’m sure Cameron already has this place mapped out with the contractors, and the only thing I have to worry about is when I get to design next. The kids destroyed the shell of the shop, but they can never kill the things the guys, Cameron, and I have built over the last couple years.”
“Cameron means a lot to you, huh?” Charlie is standing right next to me, those deep blue eyes looking straight up into mine.
“Cameron has been there for a very long time, when everyone else seemed to fall out. She is truly my best friend in the entire world, and I would do anything to make that woman happy.”
Charlie offers a smile, and then drops her head down to the floor. “I have someone like that back in Sacramento. I really miss her.”
“Charlie, I know you don’t trust me, and we haven’t exactly clicked for the majority of time, but I want to be here for you.” My palms turn sweaty and my heart races as I verbally pour my heart out to her.
“Greyson, I’m not sure this is going to work.” I can sense the hesitation in Charlie’s posture as she continues to look at the black tiled floor.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, Charlie. Just give me a chance, again. I can’t promise you that I won’t screw up, but I can promise you that I’ll give our friendship one hundred percent.”
Charlie sighs and walks over to the wall with a couple paintings the kids didn’t spray red and black paint over. She gently runs the tips of her fingers over the abstract art, following the curves of my paintbrush.
“We can try, Greyson. Lord knows I have been given countless chances in life that I really didn’t deserve.” Charlie turns around and offers me a delicate smile. Everything about that girl seems to spark something inside me. For once in my life it isn’t about having my fun and getting out, or how much booze I can consume before blacking out. It’s not about changing who I am; it’s striving to become a better version of myself.
Grabbing her hand, I yank her into me. Wrapping my arms around her small frame is exactly what I have envisioned it to be. Charlie’s body tenses as I continue to hold her next to me; her frame taking a defensive stance at my sudden burst of excitement.
“Uh……..” she says in an uneasy tone.
“Sorry,” I apologize quickly, releasing the tight grasp.
“Small steps, Greyson. Small steps.”
I can’t wipe the beaming idiot grin plastered on my face. Hearing there is a chance between us, even if she just assumes it’s still the friendship card being played, is better than I originally hoped for.
Tossing my hands as if to surrender, I continue to smile like a crazed lunatic. “Dinner? Friday night. Let me take you out.”
“I can’t,” she replies, swiftly turning her head to avoid my gaze.
“Come on, Charlie. You said we can work on this friend thing. It’s just a meal between two friends; we’ve done it before. The only difference is I want to do it in the evening and maybe put some nicer clothes on than cargo shorts and t-shirts.”
“I have this thing I have to do.”
“Well, how about I do it with you, then we can go to dinner?” My insides are dying in anticipation for her answer.
“I kind of already agreed to do something with Will.” I watch as she stops breathing, bracing herself for my coming reaction.
“Will Chambers?” Anger floods through my veins when she nods her head. That piece of shit is not coming anywhere near Charlie. “You’re not going,” I seethe through clenched teeth.
“Excuse me?” Charlie questions, a hint of irritation lacing those two short words.
“He is an asshole, Charlie. I don’t want you seeing him.” Will is a piece of work, and shouldn’t be allowed around any of the female population. How that prick still has a job is completely beyond my comprehension.
“Wow. What a completely moronic statement to come from your lips. Do you not recall begging for another chance not even five minutes ago? How in the hell is that any different in me giving Will a chance? Not to mention, that man has been nothing but kind to me.” Charlie’s normally dark passive eyes are burning with fire. I hit a nerve deep inside her, and it doesn’t look like there will be any stopping this pissed off dark haired beauty anytime soon.
“You don’t know his past, Charlie.” Taking a step back from our heated stances, I soften my posture in hopes to calm the storm I have ignited between the two of us.
Charlie scoffs. Rolling her eyes in disgust, she storms over to the front door and tosses it open. “I’m ready to go now, again.” The door closes and I’m left staring at the empty shell of the shop.
“Fuck,” I growl loudly. I thought I was done dealing with that ass-hat two years ago. I refuse to let him destroy Charlie like I know he is capable of. Charlie is special, and he doesn’t deserve any piece of her.
“Charlie, I’m not trying to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Pulling up to the curb outside Charlie’s uncle’s place, I twist in my seat and once again beg for her to listen to me.
“Greyson, you of all people should know about second chances. Will hasn’t even screwed up one with me yet, so why should I judge his past against him?” Charlie’s posture has drastically changed since leaving the shop. I can tell she is still irritated with me, but at least she isn’t shooting me death looks in the truck anymore.
“I get that, Charlie. But he isn’t a good person.”
“You keep saying that, Greyson. But you never tell me why?”
“It’s not my place to tell you, damn it!” Slamming my fists down on the steering wheel, I close my eyes to try and alleviates the building anger in my system. I can’t come out and tell Charlie the douche bags history, when the person who it happened to still refuses to talk about it.
“Then you have to let me make my own decision, Greyson. As a friend, I hope you understand where I am coming from.” Charlie sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. Opening the truck door slowly, she slides out and looks back at me one last time. “Thank you for being open with me today. I appreciate everything you showed me today.”
I hear the truck door close, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. Sheer frustration is surging through me. I have no ground to stand on when it comes to Will and Charlie. I get where she wants to make her own decisions on one’s character, but some people are too far gone to be given that credit.
Grabbing my cell phone from the center console, I open it quickly and hit the call button.
“Cameron? I need your help.”
***
“What pinched your ball sack now?” Cameron hisses from the kitchen table.
Slamming the door behind me, I storm into the small kitchen and rip open the fridge. Grabbing a beer from the shelf, I twist the top off and take a long hard pull.
“Fucking Will Chambers.” Clenching my hand hard around the cool glass bottle, I suddenly realize what I’m doing and set it down quickly. Looking over at Cameron, she has turned about fifty shades of green. I know the feelings she harbors for that man, and is the only person that can hopefully get Charlie to listen.
“What now?” Cameron finally speaks, leaning back in the kitchen chair, riddled in shock.
“Somehow, Charlie met Will a little while back, and now he is taking her out Friday night.” Grabbing my beer, I slouch down in the chair across from Cameron and sulk.
“Did you tell her not to?”
“Yeah, and you want to guess how that went?”
Cameron huffs while running her fingers through her long blonde hair. “I have yet to actually meet this girl, but since you have been so wrapped up in her little world I can only imagine by the pissed off attitude you are tossing my way it didn’t go very well.”
“Bingo,” I mock.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Greyson.” Cameron leans forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“Tell me you’ll talk to her.” My eyes plead for her to say yes. “I know you don’t like talking about what happened, but, Cameron please. I can’t stomach the thought of Charlie going out with him.”
“I don’t know, Greyson.” Cameron’s head drops into her hands, breaking the connection between the two of us.
“Cameron, please.”
“I can’t,” she states softly. I know that douche hurt her badly, but I can’t believe she won’t warn someone else what he is capable of.
“Cameron……”
“Just stop, Greyson. I don’t want to bring up that part of the past. I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.” Cameron stands quickly. The papers on the table scatter as she takes off down the galley style kitchen.
“Fuck,” I exclaim, shoving myself away from the glass table. Not only did I just bring up the past in a painful way for Cameron, but Charlie is still giving this asshole a shot at hurting her. What in the fuck am I going to do?
Chapter 21
Charlie
I have never been good at making friends, let alone keeping them. The longest relationship I have had is with Samantha, and since moving up here I haven’t been a very good friend on my end of things. Getting past that awkward getting to know you phase is what normally kills it with me. I hate sharing my past with anyone, thus ‘getting to know me’ doesn’t really happen. Once people start to realize they know only the basics of my life, and no detail, they either tend to pry or just give up. Either way, it always seems to end in disaster.
Giving people chances is the only way to survive in this world. Otherwise one turns into a cold and bitter person. Maybe because of my past history I’m so on board with chance after chance, considering it was all my mother every offered me. But, with chances comes the risk of people getting closer. Truthfully, it would be easier to just wander through life alone. But, that tends to kill the human spirit. We are made to be social creatures, and even if it kills us to let people in, we secretly desire the outcome at the end of the day.
Giving Greyson another chance today is a natural thing for me. Everything in me says to write this unstable friendship off, tell my insides to cool their jets, and move on. But, then I think about my mother and I can’t help but say ‘okay, one more shot.’
The thing that pains me from the whole interaction today is the anger directed with Will. I’m not stupid and do realize there is some underlying serious tension on Greyson’s side of things, but Will did not seem too phased when I mentioned Greyson to him. It’s almost like the anger is a one sided thing, and when I sit down to think about it, the word jealously comes to mind. Greyson claimed it wasn’t his story to tell, but if he harbors so much animosity for the man, then why can’t he share why? But, then again it comes back to the whole sharing thing, and I can understand why he wouldn’t want to.
Grabbing the keys from my gigantic purse, I stuff them into the lock and open the door. My mind is still clouded in thought when my uncle’s voice startles me.
“Are you hungry?”
Dropping the keys on the floor, I clutch my chest suddenly.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Uncle Mark chuckles.
“No worries,” I exclaim while trying to lower my racing heart rate. Bending over, I snatch the keys off the floor and shove them back into my bag. Sliding into the dining chair across from him, I reach over and swipe a piece of pizza off the plate in front of him. I smile, “thanks.”
Uncle Mark nods his head and continues to chew. I can tell by the way he is looking at me he wants to say something, but like my mom, he has to find the right way to do it.
“Alright, just spill it,” I announce after a couple minutes of silence. Grabbing a napkin, I place my slice of pizza down and wipe my hands off on my shorts.
“It’s nothing, Charlotte.”
“Ohh…….you pulled out the full name. Now I know something is on your mind. You are exactly like my mother, Uncle Mark.”
“Are you happy here, Charlie?” Uncle Mark blurts out. His tense face instantly relaxes into a worried state.
“Yeah, of course.” Truthfully, am I really happy with anything in my life? I’m thankful to be sober, but hate the fact that I constantly want a drink when anything even remotely gets tough. The thought of leaving this place seems easier than sometimes facing the day to day struggle I battle within myself, but I have nowhere else to go.
“Charlie, I can tell when you’re lying.” Uncle Mark sighs. Sometimes I forget how easy it is for him to read me.
“I’m as happy as I can be,” I shrug. The brick wall I put up long before my mother died still stands firm, even when it’s someone I know that loves me unconditionally.
“Do you want to go back home? I can help you find a place to stay?”
“I have nothing back in Sacramento anymore, Uncle Mark. It’s just going to take some time to get used to everything. I appreciate you letting me stay here, and giving me a job.”
“I’m a shitty uncle for giving you a job at the bar.”
“Sure, it might not have been my first choice, but I’m starting to like it.” It kills me every day stocking the shelves and coolers. My lips basically beg for a little taste of what’s behind the seal on the bottles.
“How can I help? Want me to look into some support groups, maybe go with you?” Uncle Mark’s brow creases, deepening the already set in wrinkles further.
“I’m fine. I promise.” My insides are telling me to get out of this situation. My legs are burning for a run, a moment to erase the entire conversation and just completely zone out.
“Charlie, you have to talk to someone,” he exclaims as I leave the table. My half eaten pizza still remains on the napkin I placed in front of me, but I am no longer hungry.
“I’m working on that,” I call out from down the hallway.
Bursting into my room, I scurry over to my closet and grab my shoes. Ripping off my long sleeve, I pull the straps down on the tank top and toss a sports bra over my bikini top, and slide the straps back over my shoulders. Hastily, I slide off my jean shorts and into a pair of running capris. I don’t even bother changing out of my bikini bottoms knowing it would make it even longer until I got outside and hit the pavement.
Slipping into my shoes, I snatch the headphones off the dresser and plug them into my phone. Fiddling the multiple playlists in my phone, I finally pick one and burst out of the door. I don’t even bother looking over and seeing if my uncle is still at the table, I just need to numb the pain constantly swarming my brain. Moments like this are crucial in staying sober, since I normally turned to booze or cutting and neither are going to work for me right now.
I had no clue where I was running to, but once my feet hit the concrete steps outside my uncle�
��s house, I took off. Block after block, my legs carried me past houses and small stores, through two parks, and even past the edge of the college at one point. Finally, when my body was ready to give up, once the panting and pleading from my legs begged for me to stop, I ended up hunched over on my knees on an unfamiliar block.
It takes several minutes for my breathing to even out. My poor body begs for me to give it a rest, but I know with the darkness creeping in, I have to find my way back to my uncle’s. Glancing around, I am unfamiliar with where I have ended up. Small shops litter both sides of the block; however nothing seems familiar in my exercise induced haze.
Locking my fingers behind my head, panic starts to creep in. In my anxiety to get out of the house, I didn’t even think about getting home. Ripping the earphones from my ears, I turn to face the store behind me and my mouth drops.
“Seriously?”
Somehow, I have ended up standing in front of Greyson’s tattoo shop. If this isn’t the world calling me out, then someone needs to lock my mental butt up and throw away the key. With all the places in this town, I run to the one owned by a person who I just can’t seem to figure out.
Taking my cell phone out of the arm band, I scroll through the whopping four contacts and hit my uncle’s number. “Pick up, pick up,” I mutter softly.
His voicemail picks up, and I end the call. Snorting, I shake my head to erase the thought of calling Greyson. I can’t really be that desperate just yet. Looking down both ends of the block, I scrunch my nose in hopes it brings back my sense of direction.
“Screw it.” I can barely remember how to get from the house to the bar some days. Trying to figure out how to make it back after I just ran my heart out, not paying attention to anything but how my body was feeling, is completely pointless.
I hit the button to call Greyson and hold my breath.
“Hi, it’s me. I mean, sorry. This is Charlie.” My face instantly turns red from the verbal vomit I just spewed all over the phone. “So, I’m kind of in a tough spot at the moment.”
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