The night before? “There were going to be two parties?”
For some reason that irritated me, thinking of Charlie being a party-bro on the same weekend he broke my heart.
He shook his head. “It was supposed to be Friday night. We brought the beer over, we told everyone, and it was just about to pop when Charlie got a text and was suddenly like I gotta go—no party.”
I blinked. “Wait, what? What happened?”
He shrugged. “No idea. He goes, Something important came up and I have to go, and he kicked us out.”
“But we went to Dave and Buster’s instead and it was super fun,” Dana said, “so it turned out okay.”
I heard a roaring in my ears. Had Charlie called off a party to go get me at Walgreens? I felt a little light-headed as I remembered how quickly he’d said he was on his way when I asked for a ride.
No questions, no I have to rearrange some things, just a solid On my way.
God. That couldn’t be what happened, could it?
But as quickly as that thought formed, the thought So he could “get” you negated the action.
Shit.
I made it about an hour after that, but as soon as they played “The Last Time,” I had to leave. The entire Red rerelease reminded me of Charlie, and just hearing it made me think of pine trees and tree-climbing boys.
I told Nekesa that I didn’t feel well and was getting an Uber, and even though she was sweet and offered to take me, I could tell she was having the best night of her life and didn’t want to ever leave.
Good for her.
I let out a sigh as I walked through the enormous lower level of the downtown convention center. I felt like I’d somehow failed at fun, and now I had to take the Uber of shame back to Scott’s house. I was almost out the door when I saw two security guys standing in the way of someone who appeared to be trying to get in.
“You have to be a West High student, sir. We can’t let you in,” the bigger of the two guys said.
“I don’t want to go to the dance. I just want to fucking talk to someone.”
Oh my God! My pulse took off at the sound of that voice. Was that Charlie?
I stopped walking and craned my neck to try to see around the guards. Was Charlie here, trying to crash our formal?
“We can’t let you in, kid,” the smaller guy said. “You need to leave—”
“I just need two minutes,” he said, sounding agitated.
“Oh my God, Charlie?” I took a step to the right, and holy shit, it was definitely him. My body betrayed me by setting free a hundred butterflies in my belly as I drank him in, letting my eyes soak up the formal wear, as well as the dark eyes and thick hair that I’d missed so fucking much, it was suddenly hard to breathe.
Dammit—my reaction annoyed me, and I said, “What are you doing? Knock it off before you get arrested.”
His head whipped around, and he looked at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes. His hair was messed up, his cheeks a little red as he blinked, stepped back from the security duo, and said, “Bailey?”
You have no right, I thought. He had no right to say my name like that, like he’d been hoping to see me. He had no right to look at me with his eyebrows up. He had no right to make me ache for him.
“G’night, Charlie,” I yelled, pushing the door and going outside.
The cool air pricked at my warm face as I looked for my Uber driver in the darkness. The downtown area smelled like spicy food and fire pits, and I tried to calm my racing nerves. So Charlie was there in a gorgeous suit—no big deal, right?
Surely his presence had nothing to do with me.
“Bailey.” The sound of his voice hit me right in the middle of my chest, pinching my heart and filling me with longing for… something.
I turned around and there he was, looking like everything I’d been missing as he stood there in his black jacket, his gaze intense. I didn’t know why he was there, but I wanted it to be for me at the same time I wanted him to disappear. I breathed in through my noise and said, “What?”
He came closer, so close that I could smell the Irish Spring soap I knew he used because he’d left it in the shower at the condo in Breckenridge. His face was unreadable—closed off and serious—as he said, “I need to make things okay with us.”
I shook my head and shrugged, looking over his shoulder because it was too hard to see his face. I had perfect memories of that strong nose, of those chocolate eyes, and remembering it all still destroyed me. “It’s too late, Charlie.”
“Please don’t say that,” he said, looking down at my dress distractedly, like he was gathering his thoughts, and then his eyes came back to mine. He put a hand on the front of his coat and said, “I miss my best friend. I miss you. The whole reason I ignored my feelings for you and what went down in the blanket fort that night was because I was scared of this happening. How’s that for irony?”
“It’s not irony at all. You made a bet and got caught; that’s called a consequence.” I sighed, wondering when everything with Charlie was going to start hurting less, and I said, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” He looked intense, like he was trying to convince me, and then he made a groaning sound and put both of his hands over a different spot on his jacket. “I’ve never had a good relationship—ever. They all go to shit in a big way. So when I started falling for you, I forced myself to ignore it, to deny it, because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you from my life if we got together and then split up.”
“You thought hurting me—and ignoring me—would ensure you’d never lose me?” I was pretty sure he was just bullshit spitballing an excuse to get me to forgive him. “You’re smarter than that, Charlie—come on.”
“I know.” He sighed and said, “I thought if I could just avoid you until I had a plan, then I could fix things. But then…”
He trailed off, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
“The bet.”
“The bet had nothing to do with anything—ever; swear to God. It was just Theo being Theo.” He flexed and unflexed his jaw while he looked down at me. “You and I, though—we were us.”
“Us?” I asked breathily, wanting so badly to believe him.
“Magical, comfortable, Colorado us,” he said, his voice a little scratchy. “We were everything together.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my dress, confused as I felt a tiny frisson of hope streak through me.
“Do you know how long ago I fell for you?” He looked like he found himself ridiculous as he said, “I think I fell for you that day at Zio’s, when you showed me the proper way to eat pizza.”
“You called it pizza desecration,” I said, not really even registering what my mouth was saying as I looked at his serious gaze and long eyelashes.
He shook his head, like the memory still baffled him. “I remember watching your face as you patiently explained it to me, and I thought, How can someone be so interesting and irritating, all at the same time?”
Was that supposed to be a compliment?
“And then I tried it,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching together like he was looking at an equation that didn’t make sense. “I tried it with the sole intention of mocking you, but then the flavors hit and you were spot-on and I realized just how unique you are.”