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Chapter 13 Recap: Whoever thought Charlie would see the inside of two (very) different guys’ bedrooms in a matter of 48 hours? Certainly not Charlie. Of course, Andy’s intentions are only Senior prank-related, and Charlie’s stoked to come through with a killer idea.

The day of your driver's test is, supposedly, one of the most stressful days of your life. Your freedom hinges on this 15-minute car ride and whether or not the guy from the DMV has a thing for parallel parking or indigestion from his Taco Bell lunch and just needs to get back to the office. 

Some kids fantasize about going shopping without having to plan around friends' parents' grocery store trips. Others will finally break free from having to depend on the fleeting good nature of older brothers and sisters with driving privileges. 

For me, getting a driver’s license meant that I would never again be required to sit in the back seat of Marlena’s car during her biannual visits. 

“Don't be silly. Bill and I will come get you.”

“It's just easier if I drive myself,” I said for the third time, tightening the grip on my phone. I was so over her visit and it hadn’t even started.

“How is that easier? Bill and I will pick you up and drop you off,” she said, as if it were a decision that only needed her confirmation to be finalized. 

“I won't be home,” I said flatly. “I'll see you there.”

“Where will you be?”

“I'll just meet you there.”

“Do you even know how to get to Harley's?”

“Marlena, I'm the one who lives in this town.”

“Oh, Charlie, you make everything so difficult.” 

After I hung up the phone I studied my outfit in the mirror. Suddenly, the wrap sweater I'd bought with Jackie last spring wasn't wrapping right. It bulged out on the sides, making me look wide-waisted. I unwrapped and rewrapped and still looked awkward. 

“Ugh, who cares?” I said to my reflection. 

Well, you've certainly gotten bigger! 

It was what Marlena had said to me last time she'd come into town for dinner. It was right before Gram broke her hip, but it was too cold for her to leave the house, so we'd spent most of the winter inside playing scrabble. I'd felt my mid-section expanding, but had covered it in baggy sweaters and half-hearted denial. 

In spite of myself, I wanted her to notice that I'd lost those ten pounds. 

After the tenth attempt at wrapping, I ripped off the sweater and pulled on a black button-down. Now I was wearing all black. Goth. Beatnik. Typical sullen teenager. At least I'd fulfill that part of Marlena’s TV drama fantasy. 

“Gram?” I called as I trotted down the stairs. 

“In here,” she called from the living room. 

“Are you sure you don't want to come to dinner?” I leaned against the door frame and asked. 

“Oh, no. You don't have a lot of time with your mother. You go and enjoy.” She looked particularly small wrapped in an afghan and cradling a cup and saucer in her hands. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Enjoy? You're kidding, right?”

“Now, don't say that. You don't know.”

“Gram, we both know.”

She only sipped her tea. 

“Can I get you anything before I head out?”

“No, I'm just fine here.”

“Okay, have a good night. I'll talk to you in the morning.”

Fifteen minutes later I pulled into Harley's parking lot, praying that I wouldn't run into anyone I knew. The last time I'd had dinner with them they'd sat across from me in the booth and took turns feeding each other shrimp cocktail. I'd looked like the age-inappropriate third wheel. 

I walked in and scanned the dining room, spotting them at a corner table. At least it wasn't a booth. 

“Charlie, over here!”

Her outfit was surprisingly tame. No windcatcher earrings, and she appeared to be wearing a bra. She half stood up from her seat and waved me over. 

She was still doing her makeup the same way, though I noticed that the skin around her jaw was beginning to slacken, making her face look softer than I'd remembered. 

Bill stood up and forced a smile. He wore the same thing he always wore: a golf shirt tucked into faded jeans and leather loafers with no socks. My eyes briefly lingered on his shoes. I knew for a fact how bad those loafers smelled when they were kicked off and left at the end of the hallway. 

“So, you found it,” she said, hugging me. 

“Yes, I drive past this place on my way to work at least three times a week.”

“I was just worried that you'd have trouble finding it.” She sat down and smoothed her napkin across her lap. 

I took a deep breath and held it as I draped my coat across the back of my chair and took a seat. 

“We waited for you to order an appetizer,” Bill said flatly. 

Translation: She made me wait for you to order an appetizer. 

“Oh, okay. Well, whatever you guys want.”

“Do you eat calamari?”

“Not really, but go ahead and order it if you guys want it.”

Bill sighed and silently opened the menu. 

“We'll get something we'll all enjoy,” Marlena said brightly to no one in particular. “So,” she said, turning to face me. “Tell me what's new.”

“Not too much,” I said and fell into the canned speech I'd rehearsed on the drive over. “I'm still working at the store to help pay for car insurance and save for college. Things are going well at school. I actually signed up for an independent study on culinary arts. It's really interesting and I'm learning how to cook. So, less spaghetti and peanut butter sandwiches,” I said with a practiced laugh. 

My mother's empty smile faltered slightly. “Is that what you've been eating at home?”

“I...well, no.” My mind raced. I’d meant for that all sound easy and casual, and she’d managed to interpret it as some kind of call for help.  “I just meant that I didn't know how to make anything else…before. But, now I can cook, like, five things.”

She nodded silently. “How's Gram?”

“She's good. She's really good. I tried to get her to come out, but she was all wrapped up in this new craft project,” I lied. 

“Well, I'm glad that we are getting the chance to talk, just us.”

“Potato skins?” Bill said tiredly, peering at me over his opened menu. 

“Love 'em,” I replied flatly. He folded his menu and crossed his arms. 

“I'm glad we're getting a chance to talk,” she repeated, “because we need to talk about Gram.” 

“What about her?”

“Hi, everybody, I’m Francie. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe an appetizer to start?”  A stocky woman with a black apron and an old-school beehive had suddenly appeared over Bill’s left shoulder. 

“Well, hello, Francie!”

I cringed. I forgot how she liked to get all buddy-buddy with waiters.

“I think we want potato skins. Are they any good?” she asked and waited for the answer as if it was the most important thing she’d ever hear. 

“With bacon?” Francie answered, holding a pen over a small notebook. Francie didn’t need any buddies. 

“Yes,” Bill answered without looking at me. 

“Okay, and I'll bring everyone waters. Anything else?”

“Can we also have two glasses of your house red?” my mother asked. 

“Two reds,” she said before sticking her pencil into the base of her beehive and heading to the kitchen.  

“So—” Marlena began. 

“I’m going to look for the restroom,” I interrupted. 

“Oh, I think it's towards the kitchen on the left.” 

“Okay, be right back,” I said as I pushed my chair back and stood up. 

I didn't have to go, but I needed to regroup. I thought I could distract her with a few dumb stories about school or work or football games, but I should have known better. There was a motive behind this dinner. She had been working on her plan for Gram. 

I flushed the toilet and ran the faucet before reentering the dining room. Francie had delivered our drinks while I was gone. 

“So,” Mom began again, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “Graduation is right around the corner!” She was using her fake happy voice again. 

“Sort of. We still have more than half of the year left.” 

“So, have you picked a school?”

“Not yet. I think I'm going to visit a few over Christmas break.” 

“Oh, how are you going do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“How are you getting to all the different schools?” Her fake smile was wider than ever.

I wasn't sure where she was going with this, but I could tell it wasn't anywhere good. 

“I'm going to drive. With my car.” 

“All that way? By yourself?”

“They're not far. I'm mostly applying to commuter schools...maybe a couple in the city,” I added carefully.

Her smile wilted. She set her glass down and gave Bill a sideways glance that she didn't think I noticed. 

“Charlie, you really shouldn’t limit yourself like that.”

“I'm not limiting myself.” I could feel my face getting hot. “Those are the schools I want to go to.” 

Bill made a noise that sounded like a snort and then quickly cleared his throat. I thought for a minute it was some kind of snort of disbelief, but then quickly realized he was completely uninterested in the conversation we were having. It was just one of the many disgusting noises he made.

“Charlie...” mom said and stopped herself. She thought for a moment before beginning again. “It really doesn't make sense for you and Gram to stay in that house alone. The upkeep it requires and the expense it generates is not appropriate for a teenage girl and an elderly woman. Not to mention that Gram needs more help than you can provide.”

“We are completely fine. Doesn't Gram's savings and social security pay for the bills, anyway? Why are you so focused on this? We're fine,” I replied.

“Don't you want to have your own experiences? Go away to college? Meet new friends? You owe it to yourself to start this new phase of your life without anyone holding you back,” she said. 

“You make it sound like Gram's some kind of burden,” I said, aware that I was starting to raise my voice. “Like she's not a real person...have you even talked to her lately? She's your mother, you know.” 

“I am well aware of that.” The fake happiness was starting to fade. Her jaw tensed and protruded a little. “I don't need you to tell me about my own mother,” she said, barely moving her lips.

“I think you do.” 

In every argument, there is a point of no return. If you can stop yourself right before it, there's a chance that everyone will calm down and eat their potato skins and pretend like nobody ever raised their voice or got red in the face or snorted inappropriately. Everyone is so grateful that things didn't go past the point of no return that they spend the rest of the time being particularly considerate and appreciative of everyone else's point of view. 

But, there's the moment you do go past the point of no return, and you know that the words coming out of your mouth at that moment will have serious consequences.  And you figure, since you've gone past the point of no return, why not mention a few other things you've been keeping to yourself since you're already there? Not only that, but the things you say will likely encourage others to say things that they wouldn't normally say if they weren't already past the point of no return. 

“Excuse me?” my mother asked. I think it was the first time I'd heard her real voice all evening. 

“I said I think I do need to remind you that she's your mother, because you certainly don't treat her like your own mother. And, maybe you need to look up 'mother' in the dictionary since you obviously have no clue what a mother is in the first place.” 

Times like this I wished I could write down what I wanted to say first before saying it out loud. 

“Apologize right now,” Bill said, suddenly paying attention. 

If it wouldn't have sounded so cliché, I would have screamed “you’re not my father!” in Bill's face. 

“Or else what?” I spat. It was equally cliché, but probably more appropriate. What could they realistically do to me? You only have leverage as a parent if you actually act like one. 

“Charlie—” my mother began.

“I said apologize, young lady. And show some god-damned respect for me and your mother,” Bill said sternly, his jowls expanding like a blowfish.

“Why should I have any respect for you?” I turned to Bill and asked. 

Bill leaned back from the table and crossed his arms. A purplish hue appeared at the frayed collar of his golf shirt and quickly traveled up to his widow's peak. He opened his mouth into a wild looking sneer, revealing two globules of spit in the corners of his mouth. He was about to say something horrible. I braced myself.

“Potato skins with bacon, sour cream on the side.” Francie appeared with a platter of wilted and smothered-looking potato peels. “Did you want to order your entrees now?”

Bill pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. 

“Thank you, Francie. We'll need a minute,” my mother said, not bothering to fake a smile. 

Francie turned on her heel and retreated to the kitchen. 

“Charlie, we're selling the house,” my mother said bluntly and took a sip of her wine. “We’ve already begun the process.”

“Excuse me,” Bill grumbled as he pushed himself away from the table. He ambled towards the restroom. 

“Gram's house?” I sputtered. “My house?” 

“Yes.”

“How is that even your decision?” I stood up, feeling the need to take action of some sort. “I can't believe you would try to do something like this without even talking to her.” I grabbed my purse from under the table and stuck one arm through a sleeve of my jacket. “She's going to be so upset when she finds out about this.”

“She knows, Charlie.”

I froze. 

“What?”

“She’s been a part of the decision process,” she said. “She agrees that it's the best thing for everyone. I asked her to let me talk to you about it.”

The feeling you get when your foot falls asleep after you’ve been sitting on it too long? But then you stand up and the blood rushes back in too fast and everything hurts? That’s how my whole body felt. It was pure rage, I think. That Marlena thought, after all this time, that she could step in and take over, was infuriating. 

But there was also a twinge of something else that surprised me: relief. A fleeting moment of release at knowing that it was done and decided. That I couldn’t fight for Gram and our empty house and our quiet, fragile life together anymore. I could do something else. I could have a different life. 

I quickly found my way back to rage. 

“Oh, I'm sure I know exactly how those conversations went,” I yelled as I finished pulling on my coat. Other people in the restaurant had stopped their conversations to watch us. “You probably made it sound like there was no other choice and told her that that's what I wanted or something,” I said. My eyes were getting hot. I clenched my teeth and put all my effort into trying not to cry. 

“Charlie, everyone, including Gram, knows she's not well and can't live on her own.”

“She's fine. And, she's not on her own. She has me!”

“Charlie, please sit down so we can talk about this,” she whispered, glancing at the rest of the customers. 

“I have to go,” I said and turned towards the door.  

I fumbled for my keys as I jogged to my car and managed to hold back the tears until I threw the side door open and fell into the driver's seat. 

“Fuck!” I screamed into the silence of my empty car and choked on my sobbing. I hated her. It hadn't been enough to completely abandon me. Now she felt the need to come back and take away the only home I had and send her own mother off to live in some institution by herself. 

A car pulled into the parking lot, its headlights bobbing in the driver's side window. I instinctively ducked. The only thing that would have made the night worse would have been having someone I knew see me sobbing alone in my car in the parking lot of Harley's. 

I turned on the ignition and started to drive, unsure of where I was going. I couldn't go home and face Gram yet. I had no idea how I was going to talk to her about everything. 

I found myself driving towards Scones. I could get a cup of coffee and try to figure out what to do next. But when I got there the parking lot was packed, which meant that half of my school was inside. Which meant that the other half was at Dino's, the only other option on a Saturday night.

“I hate this stupid town,” I said out loud. 

I'm not sure why, but I drove to Colson's and turned off my car. Gary had closed over an hour ago, so mine was the only car parked in the parking lot. For the first time all night I felt like I could breathe. Before I could think about it too much, I pulled my phone from my purse. 

Can you talk?

A minute later the phone rang. 

“Hello?” Liz's voice sounded strained. 

“Hey,” I managed to say, and then my throat closed. I sipped in a little breath while I tried to pick a spot to begin telling her the story. Before I could start, Liz let out an impatient sigh. 

“So, you're finally returning my texts?”

I cleared my throat. “What?”

“I texted you like ten times this week. And you haven't been at lunch or study. Where have you been?”

“I...had inde—”

“Wait, nevermind. I know. With your new best friends.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“I haven't been able to find you anywhere,” Liz interrupted. “And you didn't answer any of my texts last weekend either.” Her voice was a little shaky 

“Liz, I'm sorry...” I began.

“Have you been with Finn this whole time?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Well, not all of it,” I said. 

“Are you guys officially together now?”

I shook my head. I needed to focus on what was happening right then. And, even though I didn't want to admit it to myself, I had no idea how to answer that question. 

“I don't know...”

“You don't know?” 

“Liz, I really need to talk to you about something else. Can I come ov—”

“Charlie, you're completely consumed with this guy.”

I paused for a second and switched the phone to my other hand. “I'm not...consumed.”

“I don’t know what Andy and Jessica are telling you, but I don’t think he’s good for you. Charlie, I know he's cute. But, honestly...I would just be careful.” 

I shook my head. “Wait a minute. Just a few weeks ago you were coaching me on how to make him interested. Now that he’s actually interested you’re all pissed at me?”  

“Well, that was before...now I see what he’s like. He’s a slacker and he’s totally rubbing off on you.”

“He’s not a slacker,” I said, thinking back to all of our conversations about books and movies and trying to recall the impressive things he’d said to me. If Liz – or anyone else who didn’t like Finn – could hear some of the things he said outside of school they would understand that he just had a different perspective. “He might not do everything he’s told to do, but he’s actually really smart,” I said. 

“And, I think he’s taking advantage of you,” Liz said. 

That, of course, was possible. I leaned back against the car seat.  “What makes you think that?”

“I think,” Liz said. She stopped herself and began again. “I think you’re vulnerable right now. You’ve never had a real relationship before...so, I think he’s kind of using you,” she said. 

“Excuse me?” I asked. 

“You know, especially because of things with Jackie...you may be coming off kind of desperate right now.”

My jaw tensed. “Desperate?” I forced a laugh into the phone. “So, why are you still talking to me?” For about the millionth time I thought of the Halloween party and how Jackie had clenched her fists and screwed up her face before she’d spit out the words I wished I could just erase from my memory: I tried to keep being your friend...because I felt bad for you. 

It was the worst thing Jackie could have said to me, I’d recently realized. Because I didn’t know when she’d started feeling that way.  I didn’t know which of the good memories of us were real and which times she was just pretending. 

“Are you doing your community service hours right now or something?” I asked. “Because, if that’s the case—”

“I didn’t mean...What I meant...” she started to say. 

“What you’re saying is I’m such a loser that the only reason a guy would want to go out with me is because I might be vulnerable… Just say ‘slutty,’ Liz.”

“No, that’s not what I said. What I meant was—”

“It’s exactly what you’re saying. You think that because I’ve never had a real relationship and I don’t have Jackie to tell me what to do anymore that I’ll sleep with anyone who pays any attention to me,” I said, raising my voice. 

“I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to do anything you’re going to regret,” Liz said.

It was quiet on the line. My throat was slowly closing. 

“Where are you?” she asked with a sigh. “Why don’t you just come over?”

“That’s ok. I’m not that desperate,” I managed to say. 

“Charlie, that’s not what I said. I said you were coming off... nevermind. Are you at home?”

“I have to go.”

“Charlie...”

I hung up before Liz could finish.

The car had been off long enough for it to get cold again. Little puffs of my breath were lit up by the single lamp in the parking lot. What would it be like to sleep in my car? Wasn’t that the mark of actual desperation? I found some kind of perverse satisfaction in the idea of it. I had an emergency blanket in my trunk. I pictured myself tucked into the backseat and being awakened by the sunrise and street traffic. 

My phone rang. I figured it was Liz again or possibly Marlena calling to berate me for my disrespectful behavior. It was Finn. 

Sound normal, I told myself. 

“Hey!” I said. It was too chipper, too high-pitched. I never sounded that happy. 

“Hey,” he said, sounding a little taken off guard. The background noise was loud. “Hey, I thought you had a family thing. I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“Oh… then why did you call?”

“I was going to leave this on your voicemail. Ready?” he asked. 

“Um, sure.”

“Okay.”

A tinny recording echoed within the background noise for 20 seconds or so. I couldn’t decipher what it was. 

Finn’s voice returned to the line. “Did you hear that?”

“I heard something.”

“Oh, it was my store announcement for the floral department. I said everyone should come by to cop this town’s best buds and greenery. I wonder how long before the store manager tells me I need to re-record it,” Finn laughed. 

“Oh... yeah,” I said. 

“Anyway, I’m getting ready to leave work and head to Toby’s. You Okay? You sound weird.”

Great. Say “hi” to Jenna, I thought. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, to bother you. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“I... I called you.”

Right. Duh. 

“What’s going on? You sound upset.”

“I’m...” I said and caught myself before my voice cracked.

“Charlie, where are you?”

“I’m,” I said, catching my breath. “I’m in the parking lot at work.”

“You’re working tonight?”

“No...” I said, my voice wavering. “I’m going to...” I struggled to get anything out. “I’m sleeping in my car,” I blurted and burst into tears. I officially sounded insane.

“What?” 

“No, I’m not really going to,” I said catching my breath.  “I just thought about it for a minute.”

“I’m leaving work now. Do you want me to meet you?”

If he offered, was I being desperate? Vulnerable? At this point, did I care?

“Okay,” I said. 

I flicked on the interior light and adjusted the rearview mirror so that I could look at my face and immediately flicked it off. Maybe we could just sit in the dark. 

Twenty minutes later a set of headlights appeared in the distance and Finn’s car pulled up next to mine. I climbed out and leaned against the driver’s side door. 

Finn walked toward me, the singular lamp in the parking lot casting strange shadows across his face. I looked at the gravel in front of me and wrapped my coat around my chest a bit tighter. The air was cold and completely still.  

As I looked up and began to speak, Finn reached for me, cupping my face with both of his hands and pulling my face towards mine. He pressed his lips to mine. After a moment, he pulled away. 

“I brought you something from work,” he said and pulled an orange carnation from the inside of his jacket and handed it to me. 

“Thanks,” I said, taking the flower. The only flowers I’d ever received were technically for Gram after her surgery. I gently ran my fingers over the petals before carefully placing the flower on the roof of my car. 

“I’m a mess,” I muttered as I looked down and tucked my hair behind my ears. 

He reached for my hands and pulled them towards him. “Your fingers are frozen,” he said. He unzipped his jacket halfway and pulled my hands inside, wrapping my arms around his back. An incredible heat emanated from his flannel shirt. I turned my head to rest my cheek against his chest. 

We stayed like that for a minute. “So, you’re probably wondering what the hell is going on with me,” I mumbled and let out an awkward little laugh. 

“Yeah...sorta.” 

I pulled away enough to look up at him. “I don’t want you to feel bad for me.”

“Okay,” he said, narrowing his eyes. 

“You don’t, do you?” I asked. 

“I don’t what?”

“Feel bad for me.”

“Well, I mean, right now...”

“But, in general. I mean, you’re not with me because you feel bad for me.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was immediately and painfully aware of how I sounded: like I thought Finn was with me. Like we were together.

“I don’t... not that I think this is, you know...” I stumbled over my words. “That just came out wrong. You don’t have to worry that I’m all, you know...” I wiped at my eyes and laughed again before I looked up into his face. I expected to see the crooked half-grin, but Finn’s face was soft and thoughtful. 

“What are you talking about?”

“This...” I said, giving up on trying to play it off. “Whatever it is that we’re doing.”

“You mean... standing here in this parking lot in the cold,” he said, the half-smile beginning to form on his face. 

I took a breath. “Someone said I was consumed with you,” I said and self-consciously rolled my eyes. 

“Consumed?”

“Yes. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Why did they say that?”

“I guess because we’ve been hanging out,” I ventured.  “And, I don’t know, I’ve done some things that I wouldn’t have done before.”

“Before you were consumed with me?”

“Ha. Yeah, I guess.”

“Like what? Terrorize Rent-a-Cop?”

I laughed. “Yes, and skip school.” 

“You make me sound like a bad influence.”

“In a way you are,” I said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, no one’s dead, right? Or hurt?”

Not yet, I thought. 

“No,” I said.  

Finn shrugged. “Then tell them to fuck off.” 

I looked down, unsure if I should have been grateful or upset that he had let my “with you” slide. 

“So, is that what this is all about?” Finn asked. 

“Part of it,” I said. “I don’t really feel like getting into it.”

“Okay, then let’s do something else. Toby’s having that party. Want to go?”

“We could,” I said and looked down. Jenna would be there and she was about the last person I wanted to see. “Or, we could do something else.” My mind raced, searching for a plan that would seem more interesting than free reign of Toby’s parents’ house and liquor cabinet. 

“What are you thinking?”

“We could... sneak into my work?” I blurted out. 

“Yeah?”

“I know the security code. I could... introduce you to the fascinating world of shoe retail and… show you how to punch holes into leather belts?”

“That does sound fascinating.”

“Or...” I desperately wracked my brain. “Or we could drive...to the...city...”

“Charlie,” Finn interrupted.  “We don’t have to do anything crazy.” He pulled me a little closer. “I’m fine with just us hanging out.”

“It’s cold,” I said, burrowing my face into Finn’s chest. My ears and nose were beginning to get numb. 

“I’d say we could go to my house, but my brother’s home. I can’t get him out of my room since his Xbox is back at school.”

“Oh.”

“What about your house?” Finn asked. “I’ve never even been there.”

I stayed silent for a moment before turning my head to the side. 

“My grandmother’s there, but she’ll be asleep.”

“She’s visiting?”

“No, she lives there. I live with her.”

“Oh.”

“She doesn’t come upstairs... because she can’t.” 

I pulled away a little and looked Finn square in the eye. 

“She’s old and she’s... not in great health. I sort of take care of her.”

Finn cocked his head to the side as he listened. 

“And, my mother, she lives with her boyfriend a few hours away. And, she’s... She wants to sell our house and move my grandmother into a nursing home. So, who knows what’s going to happen.” I pulled away from Finn a little and looked down at the ground.  

“Oh...”

“Sorry to ruin your Saturday night.” 

“I’ve had way worse nights... Remember Halloween?”

I laughed. “So, want to come back to my grandmother’s house? It’ll be wild and crazy. I think there’s still some frozen lasagna in the freezer and we can read the newspaper to each other in hushed voices,” I said with feigned enthusiasm. 

“The newspaper?! What about pecan sandies? I am only going if there are pecan sandies.” 

I laughed. “Actually, I think we do have some pecan sandies. But, they’re probably stale.”

“Even better. We’ll dunk them in lukewarm tea. I’m definitely down.”

He pulled me against him and rested his cheek on the top of my head.

Am I really doing this? 

“Okay,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. “Let’s go.”

church st. Julianna Zachariou

Now Spinning: Church St. by Julianna Zachariou