Everything I Need

Part 6

“Where are you heading for the holidays?” she asks innocently. She’s sure that Charlotte’s got some big important family somewhere who will have awesome holiday parties and a lovely family dinner.

Instead, Charlotte’s back stiffens and she stops where she is. She stands stock still for a moment before busying herself finding something else to watch. She doesn’t say anything until the opening credits of White Christmas are playing on the screen and settles back on the bed, farther away from Shela than before.

“Um,” she starts. “I’m actually staying here.”

That surprises Shela and she doesn’t understand why. She watches Charlotte shift awkwardly for a moment and it occurs to her, for the first time since she walked through that door and discovered who her roommate was, that she doesn’t really know all that much about the girl she’s been living with. It also occurs to her, for about the millionth time, that she really wants to know more about her… She just doesn’t know how to ask.

“That’s cool,” she whispers. Charlotte’s cheeks still turn pink and her body becomes more awkward than Shela ever remembers it being. It’s like she doesn’t know how to control her own limbs. “I’ll be gone Tuesday night through to Friday night, so… You can go wild with the place to yourself.”

Charlotte nods and they don’t say anything else.

Shela still watches her. She still feels happy.

Charlotte mouths all the words to every song in the movie.

//

Shela wakes her up with a hand to the shoulder.

Charlotte stirs with sleepy confusion until she opens her eyes and finds her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She’s so used to Shela waking her up with a ruckus and the stench of rum that it’s slightly jarring to see her sitting there bundled up in her coat and hat with a bag in her lap.

“Sorry,” she whispers softly. “I didn’t want to wake you, but… Well, you’ve been napping for about four hours now and you should eat dinner—” She gestures to Charlotte’s desk and Charlotte feels her insides burn when she sees the container of mac and cheese and chicken tenders sitting there. “And because I’m heading to the airport now. I wanted to say goodbye.”

Charlotte sits up and blinks away the sleep. She can barely see and she jolts when Shela leans over to her nightstand to grab her glasses and slip them up her nose. She was sure she’d been wearing them before she went to sleep.

“Have a safe flight,” she mumbles brushing a hand over her face to wake herself up. “Enjoy the sunshine.”

Shela smiles and, when Charlotte glances down, she doesn’t understand the hand pressed against her wrist, stroking her pulse. She doesn’t understand why it doesn’t feel out of place.

“Can I get a hug?” Shela asks. Her voice is playful but there’s something in her tone, something similar and reminiscent of a night many weeks ago, which makes Charlotte think that this is something Shela needs.

She nods and sleepily reaches for Shela, not prepared for the way that Shela clings to her. She’s warm and cold at the same time and Charlotte’s sleepiness is still heavy in her bones as Shela holds her for much longer than necessary.

“Be good,” Shela whispers as she pulls back, pushing the glasses up Charlotte’s nose before she gets off the bed.

Charlotte looks up at her and watches as she gathers the small carry-on bag and her school backpack into her arms. Shela smiles up at her when she sees her watching.

“You too, Sunny,” she mumbles and watches as Shela leaves.

The room seems quieter than ever before after she’s gone. It’s probably because she knows she’s the only person left on this floor. She puts a movie on loud and quietly eats the dinner Shela left for her. It’s boring, and she falls asleep watching Netflix only to wake up early the next morning to a text from Shela.

It’s the first text that they’ve exchanged that hasn’t been something school-related.

It’s raining, is all the message says.

Charlotte doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know how to do this. She doesn’t know if she wants to.

She goes back to sleep instead and only wakes up when she’s hungry.

//

Shela comes home for the first time in months to an empty house.

There’s a note on the fridge from their maid that says her mother will be at work until Wednesday evening. Shela rolls her eyes and wanders up to her bedroom to find it almost exactly the way she left it.

It’s mostly bare.

Shela moved out most of her things when she left for college. Her mom threw out the rest of her ballet stuff in a drunken fit a year and a half ago. She’d given her the money to replace it all but Shela had spent it on rum, condoms, and ice cream for her friends. All that’s left in the room now is her furniture, a TV and the medical textbooks her mother had kept on her bookcase.

The dresser is empty of her clothes because Shela had held a ceremonial burning of all her old clothes during last Spring break after another fight with her mother. It had been shortly after she’d switched majors from Biology to Ballet. She figured she didn’t need the smart clothes her mother had forced her to buy if she wasn’t going to be a doctor anymore. Her mother didn’t talk to her for the rest of the time she was home after that.

She turns on the TV and falls asleep watching infomercials in her underwear. She doesn’t wake up until the afternoon when the maid brings her lunch and a cup of coffee before going home. She doesn’t leave her room until her mother comes thundering up the stairs and wanders in without knocking.

“Honey, you’re here,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

Shela raises her eyebrows and eats another chip from the bag sat beside her. “Blackmail works, huh?”

Her mother purses her lips. “Still. I didn’t expect you to actually…”

“Come back?” Shela asks darkly. “Listen to you? You said you’d cut me off if I didn’t and I actually want this degree, so…”

Her mother folds her arms and watches her quietly. Shela glances at her and misses her mom. She misses the woman who would crawl into bed with her and eat the chips too, the woman who would never not hug her daughter after months without seeing her. She misses her family. She misses the Sunday mornings they used to have. She misses her dad reading the paper and watching football. She misses her mom leaning over to kiss his cheek as she makes dinner. She misses the laughter and the feeling of belonging.

She hates that she and her mother are falling apart because they lost the one thing that was holding them together.

“I’ve… invited Ren for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow,” her mom says after a while.

Shela rolls her eyes and gets out of bed, grabbing her jeans from the end of the bed and pulling them up her legs. Her mother watches her wordlessly as Shela completely redresses. It’s not until Shela searches for the cash in her backpack that her mother says anything.

“Where are you going?”

Shela shrugs. “Out. I don’t know. I’m hungry, maybe.”

Her mother nods and lets her pass. Shela takes one of the cars from the garage and doesn’t come back to the house until four the next morning. She sleeps until mid-afternoon when a hand on her ankle over the covers wakes her up.

“Hey, kid,” Ren says softly and Shela rolls over to glare at him. He’s her parents’ best friend, the peacekeeper, the man her mom somehow managed to “fall in love with”, even though she was still mourning Shela’s father. She glares at him and he smiles, just like normal. “Good to see you, too.”

Ren used to be one of her favorite people until he started pandering to her mother’s every whim and giving her excuses. Somehow that turned into love and Shela thinks he’s an i***t because her mother is broken. Her mother is broken and if he doesn’t watch out, he’ll end up broken too.

“Can we try to have a nice, civil Thanksgiving this year?” he asks softly. “Dinner’s almost ready. She made it herself.” He looks at Shela like that should make her happy and sighs when it doesn’t. “She’s trying, Shela. She’s been desperate to see you.”

Shela shakes her head. “I don’t care.”

Ren squeezes her ankle. “Yes, you do, and that’s why you’re like this. But she’s okay, Shela. She’s been going to therapy and she’s worked hard. She hasn’t had a drink in months and… Really, she’s trying.”

“She didn’t call me for months,” Shela reminds him bitterly. “She blackmailed me into coming here.”

Ren hums in amusement. “You ran away from home. You were only supposed to be gone for the weekend and you never came back. She didn’t know what else to do.”

“Then she’s not different. She’s not better,” Shela spits before forcing herself to calm down. She can’t do this anymore. “I’ll eat later. I’m not hungry right now.”

Ren gets up and she’s sure he’s gone back downstairs until he dumps her entire bag of things atop her head. “Get up,” he tells her. “And get your head out of your ass.”

She does as instructed and only goes downstairs when he calls her down for dinner. She sits far away from them and sulks, refuses to speak when they take turns to say what they’re thankful for. She talks calmly to Ren about school, gives her mother one word answers to the things she asks. It’s not nearly as dramatic as it usually is. She actually agrees to play board games with them and wins every single time. They laugh at her like they expected no less and Shela just misses her father. It feels like a hole in her chest: hollow and empty.

“Will you come back for Christmas, Shela?” Her mom asks when they’re drinking coffee much later that evening. She looks sheepish but distant and Shela eyes her harshly as she swallows and speaks. “It’ll be better this year.”

It sounds like a promise but her mother’s broken lots of them over the years.

“I’ll think about it,” she whispers.

She goes to bed and when she wakes up, her mother’s already gone to work. She’s left her an envelope of cash on the kitchen counter and Shela pockets it as Ren loiters around making coffee. He gives her a knowing look and she’s never sure what to think anymore. Nothing ever feels right. He tells her he’ll take her to the airport and Shela lets him kiss the top of her head.

“We’re really proud of you,” he says and Shela shakes her head.

She wishes she could believe that.

//

Charlotte probably looks like she hasn’t moved since Shela left when Shela fumbles her way back into their dorm room. She groans as she throws all of her stuff on the floor by her desk and Charlotte snorts when she flounces over to drop into the empty space at the end of Charlotte’s bed. She kicks her feet up onto the footboard and falls closer to her before surveying the room.

“You look like you’ve had fun,” she quips and Charlotte rolls her eyes. “This room is spotless.”

Charlotte flicks her shoulder and scoffs. “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m really glad you noticed.” 

Shela smiles at her and shakes her head. She looks at Charlotte like she’s hopeless and Charlotte hides her blush behind her glasses and the darkness of the room.