Find Me

Chapter 6

Charlotte

            I watch as Liam picks up my bags and wonder what he is doing. I know I shouldn’t trust him, but for some reason I do. I just hope it doesn’t f**k me over. He starts to open my door and I honestly don’t know what he is doing, and then he leaves.

            “Wait! What are you doing?” I yell through the almost closed door. It slams shut and I quickly grab my phone, jacket, and purse, running after him.

            He hasn’t gone far, just the stairwell, “What are you doing with my stuff?” I ask again.

            “You are going to have to trust me,” he says as I follow him out of the building. I try to grab a bag from him but he just tightens his grip. He opens the door to a silver car and places my stuff in the back seat and I catch on to what he is doing.

            “Oh no, no no no, I am not going anywhere with you. “

            “Please, just trust me. I am bringing your stuff to your house, with or without you.”

            “No, you are not.” I say as I try to get my bags from his car. He stands in my way. After a few seconds of struggle I know he isn’t going to give up. I make a plan, to walk around the car, act like I am getting in, then grab my stuff from the back and run and as I am making my way around it I hear his door shut and the locks click. Through the back window I see him reach over and unlock the passenger door.

            “I know what you are thinking,” he says through the partially rolled down window. “You wont be able to get your stuff, its behind my seat on purpose. Laura told me you would be stubborn about this and I thought of everything.”

            I stop trying to think of another way around this. “You talked to Laura about doing this?” I am furious. “Laura knew that you were planning this, and not only did she help you, but she didn’t tell me? Are you freakin kidding me!” I sputtered.

            “Hey, we are just trying to help you. I messaged her after seeing you upset and I needed to make it better. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that.”

            I open the car door and lean in, “its not your job or responsibility to take care of me. I don’t need anyone and I definitely don’t need you to give me a ride to god knows where!” I see his hand reach out before I can react and he pulls me into the car and immediately starts driving. The door shuts with the cars motion and pushes my feet the last bit into the car. Before I can get out, the door is locked and he is driving down the road.

            “I am sorry that this is how it had to be, but you made it so. I am bringing you to your house, I don’t live that far away, but I will need directions when we get closer. I know you are going to be pissed at me, but you need to understand that I want to do this for you. I want to be there for you. I am not one to really need other people, but I feel better when I am with you, and I like spending time with you. I really do. If you hate me after this, I will give you space, but I will be back because I like you.”

Liam

            I keep driving, but I am waiting for a response. I just told her I like her. She doesn’t really understand what that means coming from me, but that’s my fault. I wait to see if she respond but she sits there looking out the window, almost on top of the door, anything to get space from me. Maybe I should tell her about my past. Would that open her up to telling me hers, or at least get her to trust me? I have a little under two hours in the car with her. I haven’t told anyone really what happened; I don’t even know how to start it.

            I glance over at her and I see that she is fighting something internally. I can’t tell if she is about to cry or if that is just left over from when she cried earlier. Probably be rude to ask, but I need to try something to get her to be comfortable. I wait until we have been in the car for about half an hour when I decide on what to say.

            “Can I tell you something that I haven’t told anyone before? Not even my therapist,” I ask. Out of the corner of my eye I see her look at me, but she doesn’t say anything. “I’ll just talk, and you can listen. Maybe that will help you understand who I am better. Maybe you will be able to trust me after.

            “When I was little my brother John was my best friend. My parents are... distant, and John took care of me, made sure I ate, my homework was finished, and spent his free time with me. We would take trips to my grandmas house in the summer, to the beach, ice cream shop, anywhere to get out of the house,” I say with a sad smile. “When I was fourteen, my parents brought us to a lake house for a week and we spent the first full day there on the beach, from sunup to sundown, because John wanted to make sure I saw the sunrise and sunset. He loved to draw and wanted to see it for himself too. The second day, we went to family lunch, then spent the day shopping. I was so tired when we got home that I ate dinner by myself and went to bed. When I woke up, it was so dark, and John wasn’t in his bed so I went looking for him. I asked my parents and they said he went to bed with me. I knew he hadn’t but they weren’t listening or paying any attention to me.”

            I slow to a stop as the traffic light turns red and look at Charlotte. She is looking at me, and seems to have relaxed a little, sitting almost normal in the seat.

            I press the gas pedal and she asks “what happened?”

            “I couldn’t find him, so I looked outside and saw that the water had risen a lot. I don’t know how, call it a miracle, but I saw a lump on the sand and I just knew it was him, so I ran to him screaming for my parents to come quick. I reach him and he was soaking wet, and non-responsive. My parents, after realizing it was John started to run, and it was the only time they really seemed to show interest in our well-being.” They called an ambulance and a neighbor who had heard me screaming started CPR on him.” I hear her take in a sharp breath. “I watched the whole thing, and he was breathing on his own when the ambulance arrived. They said any longer and it might have been a different outcome. Our vacation was anything but. John was barely responsive at the hospital and my parents wouldn’t let me see him much. My grandma came to take me back to her house while John stayed there. He died of pneumonia three days later, and I never got to see him again.”

            “Why did they send you away?”

            “I don’t know, and they never gave me an answer when I asked. I asked as soon as they came home, and my father’s response was that I could be the one to drop the urn in the ground if I wanted to be with him one last time. He didn’t even sound sad or upset, more like the whole thing was an inconvenience to him,” I tell her, feeling the pain of his response, even now.

            “That’s f****d up. Did you… we you the one to put him in the ground?”

            “Yeah, My grandma was there for me, and she has been the only one there for me since.”

            “I am so sorry” she says, lightly touching my arm. I glance at her. This is the first time she has initiated contact with me. Might be small to some, but I take it as a huge step in the right direction.

            “I haven’t been able to get close to people since. It’s f****d me up in a way that most people cant understand. I didn’t make friends well before that happened and afterwards it was almost impossible. I never really wanted to spend time with others, my therapist said it was cause I have some undying loyalty to my brother that makes me feel like having friends would be like replacing him, but I want to spend time with you. I like getting to know you. I have had a set routine every day since I was 14, as a way to cope with my panic attacks. Very rarely has it been broken because it puts me in a terrible mood. For some..”

            “You don’t need to tell me everything if you don’t want to,” she interrupted.

            “I want to tell you everything, so you understand me.” I start again, “For some reason when my change in routine is because of you, it is fine and I have no negative reactions. I feel like a normal person and it feels so good. I haven’t had as many nightmares since I met you. Its probably just coincidence and I am finally growing out of it, but I like to think that it is because of you too.”

            “What are your nightmares about?”

            “They differ, but for the most part it has to do with my brother dying, usually in terrible ways.”

            “Are you okay?”

            I look over at her, “I am fine, thank you for asking though. Usually it’s only my grandma or therapist who does that. Its comforting coming from someone else for a change.”

            “I appreciate you telling me, so that is why I never see you with anyone?”

            “Yeah.” I say, looking over at her again. She looks deep in thought, her eyebrows furrowed together, biting her lip, and her head tilted to the side. She is cute.

            “I know you told me that to get me to open up too, but I don’t think I can, sorry” Charlotte finally says.

            “No, I wasn’t trying to get you to open up. I wanted you to know you could trust me and understand why I do the things I do. You are the first person I have wanted to get close to and I honestly have very limited experience when it comes to other people and I don’t want my actions to scare you away.” She nods her head to this and lets her head fall onto the headrest. I know the conversation is over with.

            When we get closer she directs me where to go, and when we get to her house I see her hesitate when I get out of the car to get her things.

            “I don’t need to come in if you don’t want me to. I have invaded your privacy enough for today” I chuckle. She thinks about it for a minute, and without saying anything leads me up the walkway. She opens the door and a dim light fills the doorway around her body, making her a shadow.

            “Mom, I’m home,” she calls out as she walks into the house. I follow behind her and look around. There is clutter on the table as soon as you enter and the place is small, but cozy, nothing like my house.

            “Charlotte, honey I am so sorry!” Her mom was a frazzled looking woman and she kept talking as she ran into the room and grabbed Charlotte in a hug. She did not stop talking until she lifted her head, looked at me, and fell silent.

            “Mom, this is Liam. Liam, this is my mom Riley.” I nod my head.

            “Hi” she said looking at me curiously. Turning to Charlotte she whispered excitedly, “You have never brought a boy home before, is he your boyfriend?” I see that Charlotte got her whispering ability from her mom, and by ability I mean lack thereof.

            “No mom, he is not. He brought me home after I told him that you forgot to get me, and no I was not trying to take a jab at you, I’m just saying. “

            “Oh” was all Riley said.

            She turned towards me. “Thanks for the ride, I really appreciated it, and it worked,” she said with a slight smirk. She picked up her bags where I left them and started walking further into her house. She turned as I was turning to open the door and I got the feeling that I never wanted to leave.

            I get back to my car and just sit there for a few minutes. Today was intense but in a good way. I don’t understand why I am trying so hard with Charlotte. I never needed anyone before, why now?

            I turn on the car and glance in my mirrors. In the review I see a shadow standing in the upstairs window, not moving, not waving, just watching. I know it’s her.

            I pull out and drive to my house, 37 minutes away.  Grabbing my bags I walk up to my door, pull out my keys and unlock it. There are no lights on and the place looks like no one has been here since the last time I came home, for thanksgiving.

            I don’t bother with the lights, I just walk up the stairs, throw my stuff on the floor and lay on my bed. I text Laura, She is home now.

I fall asleep thinking of Charlotte and decide that I am going to see her over break, no matter what.