Show Me How
Page 20
“And what’s that?” I asked, my tone slightly taunting, mostly curious to see if she would say it to my face.
Charlie’s cheeks blazed red, her head shook slightly. “You sleep with every legal female close enough to touch—”
“Not every.”
“—and you brag about it. You act like no one can touch you. And if you hurt any of those women, you don’t care. It isn’t in you to care.”
I lifted an eyebrow and reminded her, “I cared about hurting you.”
“That’s different, Deacon. You would also care about hurting Grey or Harlow or Knox’s sister.”
I had never fantasized about touching any of them though. And I still didn’t know what to do about wanting to touch the girl in front of me.
“So to answer your question, yes, that’s how people see you. But I think that’s only because you created this for them to see. And I also think that you have deep and confusing thoughts when you’re going off little sleep. That, or one of the girls from last night made you think about who you are far too much. Which . . . actually might be a good thing for you. Maybe she’ll be a change for you, like Harlow was for Knox. But go sit down and I’ll bring your coffee regardless of whichever one it was.”
I bit back my automatic response, because, technically, she wasn’t wrong, and blew out a heavy sigh as I took a step back. Before she could turn away, I asked, “Why does it have to depend on a girl? Why can’t there just be different sides to me?”
“Such deep and confusing thoughts,” she murmured again. “Why are you coming to me with this?”
“Because I’ve seen different sides of you in just the last week. I’ve seen the shy, sweet Charlie I grew up with, and I’ve seen the one who stood up to me and for herself.”
Embarrassment flashed across her face. “You can’t compare us, Deacon. All you’ve ever wanted was to be seen, and I’d rather not be seen at all.” She walked away, leaving me there, staring at the place where she’d been standing.
Just as I turned, she called out my name, and I looked over my shoulder to see her walking back toward me with a mug of coffee in her hands.
“Here, so you can get started.” She smirked, but it died as soon as I took the mug from her hands. “And, Deacon? Keith might be sleeping right now, but he repeats everything, and he’s obsessed with you lately. Keep that in mind when you talk about your nights, okay?”
I’d never realized how much people expected me to have a night with a random girl, or multiple girls, until this week. I’d also never realized how much this image that Charlie said I’d created for myself would piss me off when I found that I could no longer get away from it.
I huffed in frustration, and stared into the dark depths of the coffee for a moment before looking up at her again. “Would you believe me if I told you that I was alone last night?”
Charlie’s face was etched with disbelief, and it was the only answer I needed.
“Right.” I cleared my throat and took a step back, and raised the mug in her direction. “Thanks, Charlie.”
I had barely gotten settled back into the booth before Jagger said in a low, warning tone, “Man, stay away from my sister.”
I glanced up, and everyone else at the booth was frozen and looking at either Jagger or myself . . . but Jagger wasn’t paying attention to me. His focus was on his daughter.
Just when I started to think I’d imagined his warning, and imagined everyone’s stares, he said, “I love you, Deac, but I’m so fucking serious.” His eyes finally flicked in my direction, the look in them drove home his words.
“Jagger . . .” Grey said, her voice almost too soft to hear.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “We were just talking.”
One of his eyebrows ticked up, a huff burst from his chest. “Yeah, I keep hearing that. As long as it stays that way, then that’s fine. I mean it; you’re like a brother. But Charlie has Keith, she doesn’t need to get involved with someone like—”
“Jagger, stop,” Grey said, this time louder.
“Yeah, no, I got it.” I tried to laugh, but it may have come across as a sneer. One of my phones chimed then, and I didn’t even pay attention to which one it was when I pulled it out of my pocket and held it up. “Because of this, right? They call, and I go willingly.”
I downed the hot coffee as fast as I could and slid out of the booth, more than ready to get away now that no one was speaking and everyone was staring at me with a mixture of shock, confusion, and sympathy.
“See the two of you when you get back from your honeymoon,” I said to Knox and Harlow, then nodded in Grey’s direction. “When Keith wakes up, tell him I already covered up the ladybugs on the menu so they can’t take his superpowers away.” When her sympathetic expression turned confused, I said, “He’ll understand.”
I turned and nearly ran into Charlie as she carried the drink tray toward the booth.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, her eyes already darting over me. “Are you leaving?”
My mouth opened to say, “I have to go live up to my reputation,” but shut again. Instead, I simply mumbled, “Charlie Girl,” and walked past her and out of Mama’s Café.
As soon as I was back home and in bed, I opened up the conversation with Words, the journal girl, on my phone. And as I tapped out a message, I realized I needed this more than I’d thought. If the people I was closest to wouldn’t allow me to be anything other than this image I’d created, then at least I had this.
Words, have you ever thought about how people move to places like Thatch to start their lives over, but the people who grow up in those towns can’t start over unless they leave?
Charlie
June 9, 2016
STRANGER: AT ALL.
My jaw dropped in disbelief as I hurried to respond a few days later.
I’d spent every night since the wedding talking to Stranger, and in that time, I’d come to know him better than anyone, and he me. And sometimes it was hard to believe that he hadn’t been in my life for years, because I’d never been able to talk to anyone like I could this.
What do you mean? How can you not believe in love?
Stranger: No, I mean, I do. Just . . . not like . . . I don’t know. I love my family and my closest friends because they’re like family. But the other? I think it’s something people have made up over the years. It’s wants and needs and infatuations that people glorify into a relationship and marriage that you either stick out for your life or decide you don’t want to deal with anymore.
Charlie’s cheeks blazed red, her head shook slightly. “You sleep with every legal female close enough to touch—”
“Not every.”
“—and you brag about it. You act like no one can touch you. And if you hurt any of those women, you don’t care. It isn’t in you to care.”
I lifted an eyebrow and reminded her, “I cared about hurting you.”
“That’s different, Deacon. You would also care about hurting Grey or Harlow or Knox’s sister.”
I had never fantasized about touching any of them though. And I still didn’t know what to do about wanting to touch the girl in front of me.
“So to answer your question, yes, that’s how people see you. But I think that’s only because you created this for them to see. And I also think that you have deep and confusing thoughts when you’re going off little sleep. That, or one of the girls from last night made you think about who you are far too much. Which . . . actually might be a good thing for you. Maybe she’ll be a change for you, like Harlow was for Knox. But go sit down and I’ll bring your coffee regardless of whichever one it was.”
I bit back my automatic response, because, technically, she wasn’t wrong, and blew out a heavy sigh as I took a step back. Before she could turn away, I asked, “Why does it have to depend on a girl? Why can’t there just be different sides to me?”
“Such deep and confusing thoughts,” she murmured again. “Why are you coming to me with this?”
“Because I’ve seen different sides of you in just the last week. I’ve seen the shy, sweet Charlie I grew up with, and I’ve seen the one who stood up to me and for herself.”
Embarrassment flashed across her face. “You can’t compare us, Deacon. All you’ve ever wanted was to be seen, and I’d rather not be seen at all.” She walked away, leaving me there, staring at the place where she’d been standing.
Just as I turned, she called out my name, and I looked over my shoulder to see her walking back toward me with a mug of coffee in her hands.
“Here, so you can get started.” She smirked, but it died as soon as I took the mug from her hands. “And, Deacon? Keith might be sleeping right now, but he repeats everything, and he’s obsessed with you lately. Keep that in mind when you talk about your nights, okay?”
I’d never realized how much people expected me to have a night with a random girl, or multiple girls, until this week. I’d also never realized how much this image that Charlie said I’d created for myself would piss me off when I found that I could no longer get away from it.
I huffed in frustration, and stared into the dark depths of the coffee for a moment before looking up at her again. “Would you believe me if I told you that I was alone last night?”
Charlie’s face was etched with disbelief, and it was the only answer I needed.
“Right.” I cleared my throat and took a step back, and raised the mug in her direction. “Thanks, Charlie.”
I had barely gotten settled back into the booth before Jagger said in a low, warning tone, “Man, stay away from my sister.”
I glanced up, and everyone else at the booth was frozen and looking at either Jagger or myself . . . but Jagger wasn’t paying attention to me. His focus was on his daughter.
Just when I started to think I’d imagined his warning, and imagined everyone’s stares, he said, “I love you, Deac, but I’m so fucking serious.” His eyes finally flicked in my direction, the look in them drove home his words.
“Jagger . . .” Grey said, her voice almost too soft to hear.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “We were just talking.”
One of his eyebrows ticked up, a huff burst from his chest. “Yeah, I keep hearing that. As long as it stays that way, then that’s fine. I mean it; you’re like a brother. But Charlie has Keith, she doesn’t need to get involved with someone like—”
“Jagger, stop,” Grey said, this time louder.
“Yeah, no, I got it.” I tried to laugh, but it may have come across as a sneer. One of my phones chimed then, and I didn’t even pay attention to which one it was when I pulled it out of my pocket and held it up. “Because of this, right? They call, and I go willingly.”
I downed the hot coffee as fast as I could and slid out of the booth, more than ready to get away now that no one was speaking and everyone was staring at me with a mixture of shock, confusion, and sympathy.
“See the two of you when you get back from your honeymoon,” I said to Knox and Harlow, then nodded in Grey’s direction. “When Keith wakes up, tell him I already covered up the ladybugs on the menu so they can’t take his superpowers away.” When her sympathetic expression turned confused, I said, “He’ll understand.”
I turned and nearly ran into Charlie as she carried the drink tray toward the booth.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, her eyes already darting over me. “Are you leaving?”
My mouth opened to say, “I have to go live up to my reputation,” but shut again. Instead, I simply mumbled, “Charlie Girl,” and walked past her and out of Mama’s Café.
As soon as I was back home and in bed, I opened up the conversation with Words, the journal girl, on my phone. And as I tapped out a message, I realized I needed this more than I’d thought. If the people I was closest to wouldn’t allow me to be anything other than this image I’d created, then at least I had this.
Words, have you ever thought about how people move to places like Thatch to start their lives over, but the people who grow up in those towns can’t start over unless they leave?
Charlie
June 9, 2016
STRANGER: AT ALL.
My jaw dropped in disbelief as I hurried to respond a few days later.
I’d spent every night since the wedding talking to Stranger, and in that time, I’d come to know him better than anyone, and he me. And sometimes it was hard to believe that he hadn’t been in my life for years, because I’d never been able to talk to anyone like I could this.
What do you mean? How can you not believe in love?
Stranger: No, I mean, I do. Just . . . not like . . . I don’t know. I love my family and my closest friends because they’re like family. But the other? I think it’s something people have made up over the years. It’s wants and needs and infatuations that people glorify into a relationship and marriage that you either stick out for your life or decide you don’t want to deal with anymore.
