“Thanks for coming. I miss you.”
She jumped out of the car and ran around it to give me a hug. I held on to her, not wanting to let go.
“Me too, E.” She stepped back and I wiped my eyes, embarrassed that I needed her so much. But then I saw her eyes weren’t exactly dry either. “The second you’re out of here we will go for the most epic drive ever.”
“Okay.”
She walked back around to the driver’s side. Looking at me over the roof of the car, she said, “I wish I could take you out of here. Or make you better.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
Then she climbed back into the driver’s seat and was gone.
I hadn’t noticed the chill before, but now it seeped into my bones.
On my way back inside, Tristan’s Jeep came roaring into the driveway.
My stomach sank. Be strong.
He hopped out. The gravel crunched under his feet.
“My mom needed me to hand in some forms for Simone. I forgot before,” he mumbled.
“Oh.”
It was so cold. I shivered.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” He looked at me like I was crazy.
“Katrina got a new car. She was just showing it to me.”
“Oh yeah, I thought that was her. I saw it at school. Pretty sweet.” We walked the last couple of feet to the door together. He reached around me to open it. His iPhone and a bunch of papers spilled onto the ground. I reached down to retrieve them. He did too. Our heads cracked together.
“Ouch,” I said, rubbing my forehead.
“Sorry.” His ears turned pink from embarrassment.
When he gathered up his stuff, he stood, and for a second we were only inches apart.
I held my breath and stepped away. I hadn’t brushed my teeth since lunch, and it couldn’t be good. That was another lovely anorexia side effect—“hunger breath,” aka breath that STINKS.
“Um, do you need me to get you ice or anything?”
“No thanks,” I said. “I don’t need it. A lot of us here bruise easily. It’s a low-iron thing. You know, a side effect of the eating disorders we all choose to have.”
“Look, I’m sorry about before. I just—I’m upset. I love my sister. And it kills me that she’s doing this to her—that this is happening to her. Don’t take what I said personally. Seriously.”
How could I not? “Forget it,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”
He sucked in his cheeks and looked toward the door.
“Looks like you need to go,” I said. Then, when he didn’t move, “See you.” I hope never again.
“Yeah. See you.” He jammed his hands in his jeans’ pockets and left. I saw him light up a cigarette the minute he was out the door. I didn’t remember him smoking so much before.
And then I put him out of my mind. He was nothing but noise. Charlie had asked for my address. That was the sign I’d been waiting for. It was time to call.
22
At 5:45 p.m. I walked to the pay phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number Charlie had scrawled on the scrap of paper he’d slid across the counter to me at Scoops that first day. It was still in my wallet, folded up small.
I hung up as soon as his cell started to ring. What if he felt the same way Tristan did about eating disorders?
No. Charlie didn’t feel that way. At school he might have come off as a pompous asshole—he was loud and a show-off and loved to drive his fancy BMW too fast in the parking lot. That’s how Katrina saw him. That’s how I’d seen him, too. But then we went out, and he was different with me. Sensitive, even. He’d always say, “Elizabeth, you are perfect just as you are.” Those were dreamy words, even if they were untrue. “I’m worried about you,” he’d tell me sometimes. “What can I do to help?” I always acted like I had no idea what he was talking about.
No, he wasn’t like Tristan. He was kind. Besides, he’d sent me all this stuff, so obviously he wanted to talk.
My breath left a fog on the receiver as I redialed the first three numbers. 9-7-8 … My finger slipped and I hit a 5 by accident. Crap. I hung up. Don’t be a loser. Do it! I told myself.
This time, with shaking fingers, I made it all the way through.
“Hello?” When Charlie answered, his voice sounded even better than I remembered—low and rumbly. I was quiet. “Hello?” he said again, and this time his voice was annoyed.
I cleared my throat. “Um, Charlie? It’s me.”
“Who?” I could hear “No Woman, No Cry” playing in the background. It was just like our first date all over again. It had to be fate. I spoke a little louder. “It’s me, Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth?” There was a pause. A long pause. “Wow.” In the background, the music shut off.
I pushed on. “How are you?”
“Good. Thanks.” I wanted him to feel me missing him through the phone. I wanted him to reach out. I wanted him to say he missed me. I wanted him to say, Let’s get back together. As it was, he sounded cool and a little distracted.
I took a deep breath. “I was calling to say thank you.”
He didn’t say anything at first. I heard him breathe into the phone. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I can’t really hear you. Hold on, okay?”
“Why is she calling?” said a girl in the background. A girl who sounded suspiciously like Heather.
“Babe,” he said. He muffled the receiver then, but I could still hear. “I’m just going to see what she wants. I’ll be back in a sec.”
My grip on the receiver tightened. He’d called me babe too.
“Are you still there?” His voice was different away from Heather. Softer. “Sorry about that. How are you?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m … um … I’m good. Listen, Charlie, I wanted to thank—” My confidence totally evaporated. Suddenly, I doubted everything. “Charlie,” I said, “I got some packages recently. They … I … Well, someone sent me a brass ring, a jar of sand, a House of Pizza ring, and a poster. Any of these sound familiar?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instinct was telling me to shut up, but I couldn’t stop. It was like I was possessed.
“Packages?”
He has no idea what you are talking about. Stop! I told myself. Don’t say another horrible word. But it was too late. I blurted out, “Yeah. It’s okay. You can tell me. I figured it out.” My voice petered out at the end.
“Figured what out? Wait—do you think I sent you that stuff?”
“No, I—”
He interrupted me. “Elizabeth, I didn’t send you anything. I mean, I should have. Mom said I should send flowers, and so I asked Katrina for your address, and I meant to do it this week, I swear. I’ve just been busy, but I’ll send them now if you want. Wait—did these things have my name on them or something?” he said, confused.
Oh my God. I’d done it. I’d completely humiliated myself. “Oh, no. I mean, yes, but it must have been my cousin, Charlie. You guys have similar handwriting.” I had to get off the phone.
“Oh. Well, did you need something? I mean, I’m sure my mom would—you know—send something if you needed it.”
His mom? “God, no. I’m fine. Okay, well, I better go and give my cousin a call to thank him. He’s so thoughtful, you know.”