Never Never: Part Two
Page 11
They did get out. During intermission. I can hear his laughter and see the confusion on the face of the janitor who opened the door for them. How do I know that? How can I see something that never happened? Unless…
That wasn’t a dream. It happened.
To me.
Oh my god. That girl was me.
I reach up to touch my face, smiling a little. He loved me. He was so…full of life. I lie back down, wondering what happened to him and if he’s the reason I’m here. Why hasn’t he come to find me? Can a person forget that kind of love?
And how exactly did my life go from that…to this nightmare?
Chapter 8: Silas
School has been out for over fifteen minutes. The hallway is empty, yet here I stand, still waiting for The Shrimp to show up. I’m not sure what I would even ask her if she did show up. I just got a feeling when I saw her—a feeling that she was hiding something. Maybe it’s something she doesn’t even realize she’s hiding, but I want to find out what she knows. Why she hates Charlie so much. Why she hates me so much.
My phone rings. My father again. I press ignore, but then see that I’ve somehow missed a few texts. I open them, but none are from Charlie. Not that they could be, since I have her phone. I’ve simply accepted the fact that I still have a little bit of hope that this is all a joke. That she’ll either call or text or show up to laugh about it.
The most recent text is from Landon.
Get your ass to practice. I’m not covering for you again, and we have a game in three hours.
I have no idea what move will be the most efficient use of my time. Surely practice won’t be, considering I couldn’t care less about football right now. But if practice is where I normally am at this hour, I should probably be there in case Charlie shows up. After all, everyone seems to think she’ll be at the game tonight. And since I don’t know where else to look or what else to do, I guess I’ll look for her there. Doesn’t look like The Shrimp agreed to my request, anyway.
I finally locate the locker rooms, and I’m relieved to find them empty. Everyone else is out on the field, so I use the privacy to search for the box I wrote about in the letters to myself. When I locate it at the top of the locker, I pull it down and take a seat on the bench, lifting the lid.
I flip quickly through the pictures. Our first kiss. Our first fight. Where we met. I finally get to a letter at the bottom of the box. Across the top is Charlie’s name, written in the handwriting I’ve come to recognize as my own.
I look around to ensure I still have complete privacy, and then I unfold the letter.
It’s dated last week. Just one day before we lost our memories for the first time.
Charlie,
Well, I guess this is it. The end of us. The end of Charlie and Silas.
At least it didn’t come as a surprise. We’ve both known, since the day your father was sentenced, that we wouldn’t be able to move past that. You blame my father, I blame yours. They blame each other. Our mothers, who used to be best friends, won’t even speak each other’s names out loud.
But hey, at least we tried, right? We tried hard, but when two families are torn apart like ours were, it’s a little difficult to look ahead at the future we could possibly have and actually be excited about it.
Yesterday, when you approached me about Avril, I denied it. You accepted my denial, because you know I never lie to you. Somehow, you’ve always seemed to know what’s going on in my head before I even do, so you never question whether or not I’m telling the truth, because you already know.
And that’s what bothers me, because you so easily accepted my lie, when I know you know it’s true. And that leads me to believe that I was right. You aren’t seeing Brian because you like him. You aren’t seeing him behind my back to get revenge on me. The only reason you’re with him is because you’re trying to punish yourself. And you accepted my lie, because if you broke up with me, it would relieve you of your guilt.
You don’t want to be relieved of your guilt. Your guilt is your way of punishing yourself for your recent behavior, and without it, you won’t be able to treat people the way you’ve been treating them.
I know this about you, because me and you, Charlie? We’re the same. No matter how tough you’ve been trying to act lately, I know that deep down you have a heart that bleeds in the presence of injustice. I know that every time you lash out at someone, it makes you cringe inside. But you do it because you think you have to. Because your father is manipulating you into believing that if you’re vindictive enough, people won’t touch you.
You told me once that too much good in a person’s life will stunt their growth. You said pain is necessary, because in order for a person to succeed, they must first learn to conquer adversity. And that’s what you do…you deliver adversity where you see fit. Maybe you do it to gain respect. To intimidate. Whatever your reasons, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you tear people down in order to build yourself up.
I’d rather love you at the bottom than despise you at the top.
It doesn’t have to be this way, Charlie. You’re allowed to love me, despite what your father says. You’re allowed to be happy. What you can’t allow is for negativity to choke you until we no longer breathe the same air.
I want you to stop seeing Brian. But I also want you to stop seeing me. I want you to stop trying to find a way to free your father. I want you to stop allowing him to mislead you. I want you to stop resenting me every time I defend my own father.
You act one way in front of everyone else, but at night when I’m on the phone with you, I get the real Charlie. It’s going to be absolute torture not dialing your number and hearing your voice before I go to sleep each night, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t only love that part of you—the real part of you. I want to love you when I talk to you at night and I also want to love you when I see you during the day, but you’re beginning to show two different sides of yourself.
And I only like one of those sides.
As much as I try, I can’t possibly imagine how hurt you must be since your father went away. But you can’t let that change who you are. Please stop caring about what other people think. Stop allowing your father’s actions to define you. Figure out what you did with the Charlie I fell in love with. And when you find her, I’ll be here. I told you before I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never forget what we have.
That wasn’t a dream. It happened.
To me.
Oh my god. That girl was me.
I reach up to touch my face, smiling a little. He loved me. He was so…full of life. I lie back down, wondering what happened to him and if he’s the reason I’m here. Why hasn’t he come to find me? Can a person forget that kind of love?
And how exactly did my life go from that…to this nightmare?
Chapter 8: Silas
School has been out for over fifteen minutes. The hallway is empty, yet here I stand, still waiting for The Shrimp to show up. I’m not sure what I would even ask her if she did show up. I just got a feeling when I saw her—a feeling that she was hiding something. Maybe it’s something she doesn’t even realize she’s hiding, but I want to find out what she knows. Why she hates Charlie so much. Why she hates me so much.
My phone rings. My father again. I press ignore, but then see that I’ve somehow missed a few texts. I open them, but none are from Charlie. Not that they could be, since I have her phone. I’ve simply accepted the fact that I still have a little bit of hope that this is all a joke. That she’ll either call or text or show up to laugh about it.
The most recent text is from Landon.
Get your ass to practice. I’m not covering for you again, and we have a game in three hours.
I have no idea what move will be the most efficient use of my time. Surely practice won’t be, considering I couldn’t care less about football right now. But if practice is where I normally am at this hour, I should probably be there in case Charlie shows up. After all, everyone seems to think she’ll be at the game tonight. And since I don’t know where else to look or what else to do, I guess I’ll look for her there. Doesn’t look like The Shrimp agreed to my request, anyway.
I finally locate the locker rooms, and I’m relieved to find them empty. Everyone else is out on the field, so I use the privacy to search for the box I wrote about in the letters to myself. When I locate it at the top of the locker, I pull it down and take a seat on the bench, lifting the lid.
I flip quickly through the pictures. Our first kiss. Our first fight. Where we met. I finally get to a letter at the bottom of the box. Across the top is Charlie’s name, written in the handwriting I’ve come to recognize as my own.
I look around to ensure I still have complete privacy, and then I unfold the letter.
It’s dated last week. Just one day before we lost our memories for the first time.
Charlie,
Well, I guess this is it. The end of us. The end of Charlie and Silas.
At least it didn’t come as a surprise. We’ve both known, since the day your father was sentenced, that we wouldn’t be able to move past that. You blame my father, I blame yours. They blame each other. Our mothers, who used to be best friends, won’t even speak each other’s names out loud.
But hey, at least we tried, right? We tried hard, but when two families are torn apart like ours were, it’s a little difficult to look ahead at the future we could possibly have and actually be excited about it.
Yesterday, when you approached me about Avril, I denied it. You accepted my denial, because you know I never lie to you. Somehow, you’ve always seemed to know what’s going on in my head before I even do, so you never question whether or not I’m telling the truth, because you already know.
And that’s what bothers me, because you so easily accepted my lie, when I know you know it’s true. And that leads me to believe that I was right. You aren’t seeing Brian because you like him. You aren’t seeing him behind my back to get revenge on me. The only reason you’re with him is because you’re trying to punish yourself. And you accepted my lie, because if you broke up with me, it would relieve you of your guilt.
You don’t want to be relieved of your guilt. Your guilt is your way of punishing yourself for your recent behavior, and without it, you won’t be able to treat people the way you’ve been treating them.
I know this about you, because me and you, Charlie? We’re the same. No matter how tough you’ve been trying to act lately, I know that deep down you have a heart that bleeds in the presence of injustice. I know that every time you lash out at someone, it makes you cringe inside. But you do it because you think you have to. Because your father is manipulating you into believing that if you’re vindictive enough, people won’t touch you.
You told me once that too much good in a person’s life will stunt their growth. You said pain is necessary, because in order for a person to succeed, they must first learn to conquer adversity. And that’s what you do…you deliver adversity where you see fit. Maybe you do it to gain respect. To intimidate. Whatever your reasons, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you tear people down in order to build yourself up.
I’d rather love you at the bottom than despise you at the top.
It doesn’t have to be this way, Charlie. You’re allowed to love me, despite what your father says. You’re allowed to be happy. What you can’t allow is for negativity to choke you until we no longer breathe the same air.
I want you to stop seeing Brian. But I also want you to stop seeing me. I want you to stop trying to find a way to free your father. I want you to stop allowing him to mislead you. I want you to stop resenting me every time I defend my own father.
You act one way in front of everyone else, but at night when I’m on the phone with you, I get the real Charlie. It’s going to be absolute torture not dialing your number and hearing your voice before I go to sleep each night, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t only love that part of you—the real part of you. I want to love you when I talk to you at night and I also want to love you when I see you during the day, but you’re beginning to show two different sides of yourself.
And I only like one of those sides.
As much as I try, I can’t possibly imagine how hurt you must be since your father went away. But you can’t let that change who you are. Please stop caring about what other people think. Stop allowing your father’s actions to define you. Figure out what you did with the Charlie I fell in love with. And when you find her, I’ll be here. I told you before I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never forget what we have.
