Everything I Need

Part 13

Charlotte rolls her eyes and accepts the box of Saltines that Shela wordlessly hands her.

“Oh!” Shela says as she grabs her backpack. “I also got you some homework from your professors if you feel up to it. They also said to tell you not to worry and to just hurry up and get better.”

Charlotte takes the papers handed to her and rests them on her lap as Shela gets up and moves around the room again. Charlotte watches her as she puts everything away and makes sure everything is in reaching distance for her. Shela groans when she finally kicks off her shoes, dropping her jeans before searching for her sleep shorts. She tugs them up over her legs before falling onto the end of Charlotte’s bed. She covers herself with the blanket and Charlotte likes the way that Shela angles her body towards hers.

“I was going to order Thai food for dinner,” Shela comments as she reaches for her laptop, already hidden beneath Charlotte’s bed, and starts finding something to watch. Charlotte’s eyes flutter in warning and she just watches Shela as she makes herself comfortable. She pulls Charlotte’s feet into her lap and Charlotte nods in agreement as Shela starts stroking over her bare ankles under the blankets. It’s a sensation she didn’t know she wanted or needed. It lulls her quietly back into exhaustion and Shela doesn’t stop as she mutters about food and Netflix and annoying professors.

Shela’s still talking when Charlotte falls asleep.

//

She shouldn’t get used to this, to having Charlotte sleeping on her chest or stomach. She shouldn’t get used to the feel of Charlotte breathing exhaustedly into her neck and clutching at her clothing to keep her close. She shouldn’t be getting used to this, but she also thinks it might be too late for that.

She doesn’t realize how much she likes being able to comfort Charlotte like this until Sana and Harper intercept their pizza delivery guy and find Charlotte sleeping with her head in Shela’s lap. It had been a bad afternoon and Shela had skipped class because there was a part of her that was sure they’d end up back in the hospital. After a panicked call to Dr. Hwang, he’d assured her that she was probably coughing more because the infection was clearing.

But Sana and Harper still look at her in confusion when they follow in after the pizza delivery guy. Charlotte doesn’t stir, too exhausted to notice. Shela’s in the middle of watching another episode of some shitty reality TV show and they don’t understand why Shela turns them down when they invite her to a party.

“I’m staying with Charlotte,” she says and resisting the urge to stroke the back of Charlotte’s head is like trying to hold her breath. Charlotte’s nose presses against her stomach and it’s way too intimate, too telling, and God only knows what her friends think but she doesn’t care. “She’s had a bad morning and I don’t want to go too far in case we need to go to the hospital.”

“But Shela …” Harper says, only to stop when Sana gives her a warning slap to the arm. She glares at Sana and lowers her voice to a whisper. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Shela nods and smiles at them kindly. “I do know that,” she says. “But I don’t mind. I don’t want her getting sick again. It must be scary. It was scary.”

They leave with those same confused looks twenty minutes later and Shela eases Charlotte’s head from her lap to go and lock the door. Brown eyes glance up at her when she returns and she helps Charlotte to turn around and lay against the pillows. She forces her to eat pizza and puts on funny movies to make her feel better and, when Charlotte giggles, it leaves a lump in her throat.

The sound overwhelms her. She wants to be near her and she puts aside the pizza box, lines up about four more movies on their Netflix queue, and then turns off all the lights. She flicks on the christmas lights she’d found for Charlotte’s little nest the day before and Charlotte smiles until Shela climbs into the space behind her against the wall and rests against the pillows.

“Are we going to bed?” she asks timidly.

Shela shakes her head and props her head up on her arm to look down at her. “No.”

Charlotte looks scared but then nods. She curls into herself on the edge of the bed and makes sure there’s space left between them. Shela respects that and lies quietly beside her for a long time. She’s almost sure that Charlotte’s fallen asleep when she suddenly rolls over and buries her face into Shela’s chest. It’s probably not a good sign that Shela isn’t surprised.

Her fingers find Charlotte’s hair without thinking about it. She pushes it away from her face and then lets her hand drift down Charlotte’s back. The desperation and insecurity in Charlotte’s expression when Shela finally looks down at her makes her breath hitch in her throat. She looks so scared and Shela feels the question bubble up her throat thoughtlessly as she shifts closer.

“Why did you get them to call me?” she whispers softly, snuggling into the pillow. “To the hospital?”

A million things cross Charlotte’s expression and, for a moment, Shela’s sure that she’s going to get up and run away or unknowingly make her feel like s**t again. She’s sure that Charlotte’s going to say something that will play on her mind for days but instead Charlotte swallows thickly and grits her jaw. Her hand finds Shela 's t-shirt and her brown eyes flutter over Shela’s face before speaking.

“Because there’s no one else,” she finally whispers.

Shela can’t stop watching how her throat moves as she keeps awkwardly swallowing back the emotion she feels. Charlotte watches her carefully when she glances back up to her face. There’s awe to her expression that makes Shela feel big and important. She keeps stroking Charlotte’s back for a long time, enjoying how Charlotte’s eyes seem to soften and drift closed. She’s almost asleep when Shela can’t help but speak again.

“Charlotte, when you say no one,” she asks carefully. “What do you—”

“I mean that there’s no one,” she whispers without opening her eyes. “I don’t have anyone else. Except, Jacki, but she’s… She tries.” She swallows thickly again and her expression changes in the low light of the room as her eyes open. She’s scared and Shela can tell because her hand tightens in Shela’s shirt. “I don’t have anyone, Shela. No friends. No family. I—I grew up in the system.” She soldiers on past Shela’s unsteady exhale of breath. “I’ve never had a dad, just a shitty mom. I was too old and messed up when she abandoned me so they didn’t think I had much chance of finding a family. They put me in a children’s home instead.”

She stops and everything goes quiet for a long time. Shela feels her wince when she starts stroking Charlotte’s hair again. She has no idea what to say. She has no idea what to think. She always assumed that Charlotte had a big, important family somewhere and she didn’t like talking about them. She assumed that Charlotte had received the same opportunities and experiences that she had. She’d assumed that Charlotte had people who loved and cared about her and wanted to know that she was safe. She’d assumed that everyone did.

It’s a naïve way of thinking. She realizes that now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Charlotte’s eyes flutter open and she laughs. Regardless of everything, she’s still able to laugh.

“Why?” she smiles. “It’s not your fault.”

Shela feels ready to argue with that, even as she accepts Charlotte’s words. She wonders how lonely Charlotte’s probably felt for most of her life. She thinks about the things she’s never had. She’s sure now, that Charlotte’s probably never had someone willing and wanting to look after her out of something that isn’t duty or obligation. She’s sure that Charlotte’s never known a person who actually cares. Her fighting and refusal makes so much sense and she feels awful for not realizing. She feels horrible for not noticing that Charlotte was so obviously alone, so incapable of accepting help.

Charlotte’s eyes are wide and afraid when Shela finds them with hers. Her stomach sinks when she realizes that Charlotte’s waiting for her to leave, waiting for her to stop caring too.

She chuckles sadly and Shela can do little more than just watch.

“People scare me,” she admits in a whisper.

Shela’s fingers tangle in her hair and cup the back of her neck protectively. She needs Charlotte to feel this inherent, hopeless protectiveness inside of her. She needs her to be aware of it and know that it’s there and that she can have it. Something inside of her shouts at her to make sure that Charlotte never feels alone ever again.

She thinks Charlotte notices because she swallows thickly and studies Shela carefully.

“You scare me, too,” she tells Shela honestly. “But not as much as everyone else. You’re—you’re different. That’s why I asked them to call you.”

Shela lets her breath hitch. She’s glad when Charlotte buries her head in her chest instead of saying anything else. She doesn’t know how to put into words what she thinks and feels, what she wants and wishes. She doesn’t know how to explain to someone who’s probably heard it promised and broken a million times before that she doesn’t have to be scared, that Shela will be gentle with her and do everything she can to make sure she’s okay.

But Charlotte is warm and safe against her chest.

That says enough for now.

//

The next morning, Shela’s in bed with her when she wakes up and that’s not something she’s familiar with. She’s facing the wall, away from Charlotte, and Charlotte wakes up with her head resting between Shela 's shoulder blades. She’s comfy and warm, not nearly as cold as she’d woken up the last few mornings. She’s surprised she’s not coughing yet and she breathes easier as her eyes flutter closed again.

She wonders if she’d have felt this much better if she’d told Shela the truth earlier. She wonders if that’s what’s made everything feel different.

She doesn’t move when Shela groans and turns over. Her face ends up buried back in Shela’s neck and Charlotte doesn’t want to think that Shela sounds content at the sensation. She hums and Charlotte tangles her hand in the fabric of Shela’s shirt when a hand starts stroking up and down her back. It’s more delicate than normal.

“Morning,” Shela whispers and Charlotte only nods in response, already letting her eyes flutter closed again. Shela groans a second later and it rumbles from her chest into her throat and against Charlotte’s cheek. “I hate Thursdays. Classes all day.”

Charlotte swallows against the feel of Shela wrapping her tangled brown locks around a finger and watching them fall back around her neck. There’s something impossibly softer about her this morning, something delicate and gentler than she’s grown familiar with. It panics and soothes her at the same time.

“Cold pizza for lunch, then,” she comments around a yawn.

Shela scratches at the back of her neck. “I can quickly go get you something and bring it back around one.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “It’s okay. Maybe I’ll venture out and go make myself some tomato soup to dunk it in.”