“No,” I answer without hesitation. Which is the truth. And it makes me want to know so much more, like if he meant for the foot rub to get so sexual or if he really wants me in the same way I want him.
Before I can ask another question, he says, “Drive safe, Charlotte.”
Then I watch him walk away, his white T-shirt stretched across his muscled back, and it feels a little colder without him near me anymore.
“What are we shopping for again?” Sophie whines as we enter the department store of the mall.
“I need a ball gown for the club opening next week.”
“What kind of club?”
“Err…like a dance club,” I reply awkwardly as we make our way over to the formal section. I’m already discouraged by the selection, nothing but sequined prom dresses and mother-of-the-bride type gowns. Not at all what I want.
“Like a dance club or an actual dance club?”
“Stop asking questions.”
She’s trailing behind me in her ripped jeans and black and yellow Nirvana tee. We normally spend Friday nights at the rink, and I hate to miss out on the chance to hang out with her, so I figured she’d be a good shopping buddy.
“But I have so many! Like where did you find this new job? Why does it require you to dress like a pricey escort? And since when do you go to dance clubs?”
“Since I started getting paid to. And I found the job through Beau, and it doesn’t require me to dress the way I do. I choose to.”
“Well, you never chose to before, so it had me curious…” She won’t look me in the eye, and I can feel a little more than judgment coming off her in waves. I think it’s concern.
I’ve pretty much abandoned hope of finding anything here, so I turn toward Sophie and ask what I’ve been dying to know in the past three weeks.
“Do I seem happy?”
She asked me the same thing two years ago when she opened up to me, exposing her one secret and all of her insecurities. At the time, she seemed anything but happy, and I knew something was up, leading me to fish for information. I was scared to death for her, so we made a pact. Whenever we need a chat, we ask, Do I seem happy?
And the other person has to be honest.
When she got her ears pierced, she asked me.
When I started dating Beau, I asked her.
And when she dyed her hair blue and put on makeup for the first time, she asked again.
She seems a little surprised by my question, and maybe she thinks I’m asking because of Beau and not because of the new job, but she looks me up and down for a moment, as if scrutinizing me for signs.
“Yes…but.”
“But what?”
Her face falls a bit and she averts her eyes. “You’re changing, that’s all.”
Am I? I don’t feel like I’ve changed, and aside from the clothes, there’s nothing that really feels different. Then I think about the throne room again. And what Emerson said about desires and how normal they are. And the kiss, and the foot rub, and I realize that the way I’ve been thinking my whole life has changed. In ways I’m not really comfortable talking about with my little sister, I think I am in the middle of a major change. Growing into something I’ve always wanted, but never felt confident enough to ask for.
Sexy. Sexual.
Like I am the one at the helm of my own experience. Like I can reach for whatever it is that makes me feel good, without shame or embarrassment. Beau never made me feel like that. Sex with him was good, but always on his terms. I haven’t even touched a man since, not including that kiss, and I feel like everything has changed.
I just didn’t realize that it was showing on the outside too.
“Hey, change is good,” I say, tilting my head toward her with a smile.
“Change is scary,” she replies, staring at her shoes.
My heart drops. “Oh, little Smurf.” I wrap my arms around her, kissing her on the top of the head. I know what she’s thinking, that our dad left because he couldn’t handle change. That her whole life is changing every day, and the last person she wants to lose is me.
But this change in me isn’t scary, not to me. It’s exciting. Because I feel like I’m on the brink of something huge, and I can’t wait to see what it is.
RULE #14: WHEN IN DOUBT, DANCE.
Charlie
Emerson: I will pick you up at eight.
Charlie: Sounds good. Thanks.
I got ready too early. Maybe I was just excited or eager or something, but I’ve been standing outside my mother’s house in a shimmery sapphire and gold floor-length gown since seven-forty-five. My mom and I got a manicure together and Sophie helped me curl my hair. I don’t remember the last time I ever got so dressed up, and I don’t understand why my stomach is being assaulted with butterflies.