Jumping Puddles (14 page)

Did he just call me to fight? It’s starting to sound that way.

Being mindful that Alice and Scott are in the car and can hear everything I’m saying, I lower my voice a little and do the best I can to keep my frustrations at bay.

“I don’t know. There’s nothing to say, I guess. I’m sick of fighting with you and being angry with you.”

“Then let it go. You know I would have been there if I could have. Why are you whispering?”

“I’m not. Alice, Scott, and I are on our way home. I’m in the car. My voice echoes.”

“On your way home from where?”

“We went to LA for the weekend to find me a place and get settled.”

“I thought we were going to do that?”

“We were. You didn’t come home.”

“I figured we would do it when my internship was over. It’s not like you have to move there tomorrow. What’s your rush?”

“I’m not in a rush. I set up appointments when I thought you were coming. Scott and Alice were nice enough to come with me since you couldn’t.”

“I wanted to do that with you.” I hear anger in his voice mixed with sadness.

“I wanted you to be here when I graduated. We don’t always get what we want, Blake.”

It was a low blow, but it needed to be said.

“You’re right, Charlie. I guess we don’t. I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

This time, Blake is the one that hangs up without saying goodbye. All of the sudden, I’m angry at him all over again. Not for hanging up on me but for expecting me to put my life on hold for him. I can’t believe he thought I would or expected me to.

I need to let this go. For now. He’s all the way across the country. We don’t get to see each other for another five weeks. When he gets home, we can work this out. Until then, I’m done fighting with him. I’m done shooting nasty remarks back and forth over the telephone. That’s not how I want to spend the limited amount of time I get to talk to him.

I wait a day before calling Blake back. We’re both in the wrong, so I don’t wait for him to apologize. I jump on the opportunity as soon as I have him on the phone. I feel the tension melt away as we talk about nothing and everything for the next hour while he runs errands for his boss. I want to point out the fact he’s not supposed to be the gopher this time, but I don’t. I’m sure he’s realized his place, that his boss lied to him. Maybe next year, he won’t take the position if it’s offered to him.

He’s trying to come home a week earlier than planned. I don’t want to get my hopes up. I know it’s a long shot, but I cross my fingers just in case. Seven extra days with him would be wonderful. Once school starts, we’ll both be busy with classes. It’ll be nice to only be a little over an hour away from each other, but that’s on a good day with minimal traffic. From what I experienced with Alice when we came down to start setting up my apartment, there are probably more bad days than there are good days.

We got stuck in traffic on the highway for over an hour and almost didn’t make it in time to accept my furniture delivery. We cut is so close, I was shutting the door behind us when I saw the truck pull up in front of the building.

Now, I’m staring at my fully-furnished apartment, wondering what to do next. Scott and Alice just left. Everything I own is here. They helped me unpack everything but my clothes. I tried to convince them to stay for dinner, offering to cook, but they wanted to get on the road before it got too late. Truth be told, I don’t think I’m ready to be alone yet. I’ve never been alone before.

Turning on all the lights, I make my way to the back of the apartment to finish unpacking my room. I turn on the television, find MTV, and crank the volume. A little music will help fill the silence that’s surrounding me, scaring the hell out of me.

An hour later, my room is completely finished. All I have to do is take the small stack of boxes out to the dumpster, and then I can grab a quick bite before I head to bed for the night. Looking at the brand new clock on my wall, I realize it’s not even nine o’clock yet. I wouldn’t be headed to bed if I was at home. Lame.

Struggling with the stack of boxes in my left hand and attempting to close the door with my right, I’m oblivious to everything around me. When a voice calls out my name, I jump, the boxes falling to the ground.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Looking up, I see Aubrey on the landing above me. “It’s okay.”

“Are you all moved in?” she asks, excitedly.

“I am. Just need to get rid of these boxes, and I’m done.”

“Oh!” She’s literally jumping up and down in her heels. “Can I come down and see?”

“Sure,” I stutter out. “Give me just a minute.”

This is probably the cleanest my apartment will ever be. There’s no better time to have company, I guess.

I show Aubrey around. She has the same floor plan since she lives right above me, so I feel stupid as we move from room to room, flipping the lights on and then off again.

“I like your style.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re lucky. Your parents spoiled you.”

I tilt my head in confusion. When she notices, she continues, explaining what she means.

“Everything is shiny and new. I have so many hand-me-down items, nothing matches in my apartment.”

“Oh! Alice and Scott didn’t—” I stop myself. I’ve only just met this girl. I don’t need to explain myself to her, and I probably shouldn’t share my situation with her. In time, maybe, but not yet.

“Why do you call your parents by their first names, anyway?”

“Um, because they’re my foster parents.” Some things can’t be avoided I guess.

“And they did all this for you?” Aubrey spreads her arms out wide, motioning around the living room. “You got lucky, girl. What happened to your parents? Drugs? Murder-suicide?”

“Uh, they died when I was little.”

This, I’m not ready to talk about with her yet. Judging by the quick exit she makes, she catches on. I do awkward pretty well. I hope I didn’t scare her away for good. She seems nice.

AUBREY AND I HAVE
become inseparable. When she’s not working, that is. She’s a model, so she travels a little, mostly to places within driving distance right now. She has her sights set high, though. New York Fashion Week. She says her manager, Zach, is convinced he can make it happen for her next spring. For her sake, I really hope this guy isn’t pulling her leg.

Don’t get me wrong. Aubrey is gorgeous. Tall, lean, and according to her, she has a perfectly symmetrical face. I guess that’s important. She says my face is symmetrical, too. She keeps trying to convince me to get into modeling. I keep turning her down, but she’s not taking the hint. That’s why her manager, who also lives in the building, is coming over tonight. Apparently, he wants to meet me and take us out to dinner.

After two hours of torture, Aubrey finally decides I look perfect. She’s spritzed, teased, and tortured my hair countless times. My face has more makeup on it than it ever has or ever will again. After all that, she stripped me down and dressed me up like I was her favorite Barbie doll. I’m wearing her clothes, of course, because I didn’t own anything acceptable.

I’ve also been warned we are going shopping on her next day off. That will not be happening, but she doesn’t know it yet. If I didn’t enjoy shopping with Alice, there is no way I’ll enjoy shopping with her.

Aubrey calls Zach to tell him he can come over now. I’m surprised he was waiting on her call. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

When I pull the door open and step back to let him in, my ankle gives out. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for the fall, remembering the shoes Aubrey had me put in adds four inches to my already tall frame. When the ground never comes, I peek out of one eye to see a pair of pearly whites smiling at me.

Tall, dark, and handsome has caught me. He’s got a five o’clock shadow and is in need of a haircut, but Aubrey’s manager has a face that’s hard to forget. Dark, stormy eyes cause me to shudder and goosebumps to prickle my skin. I don’t even know him and he’s having an effect on me I can’t quite explain. All I know is I like it.

“Charlotte,” he states.

“Yeah,” I say as he rights me, making sure I’m steady on my heels before letting go of my waist. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not a problem. Heels can be tricky if you’re not used to walking in them. There’s an art to it.”

“An art, huh? Sounds like I need to give them up then. I’m not the creative type.”

Looking me up and down without shame, he replies, “I beg to differ.”

“How can you tell I’m creative just by looking at me?”

“I was referring to you giving up the heels. They look marvelous.”

Oh! Alright, things just got a little awkward. I say a little prayer when I hear my phone ringing in the distance, giving me a reason to close the door and scurry away.

“Hello,” I say, somewhat out of breath from shuffling in my heels.

“Hey, babe. What are you up to right now?”

“Hey! Not much. I’m hanging out with Aubrey. Her manager just showed up, so I think we’re all going to go out for dinner.”

“I thought you told her you weren’t interested in the whole modeling thing.”

“I did. She isn’t taking the hint, but a girl still needs to eat.”

When I first told Blake about Aubrey, he was hesitant. When I told him she wanted me to model, he got upset. I thought maybe he didn’t think I could make it in the industry, but after yelling and fighting for an hour, we both were able to speak our mind.

He’s worked in the industry now for two summers in a row. It’s practically killing him. He doesn’t have time to eat or sleep. Not to mention the horrible things he’s told me about the rest of the industry. It’s a lifestyle, modeling. There’s access to drugs, alcohol, partying, and everything else I’m not interested in being a part of.

Aubrey seems to be as straight-laced as I am. She doesn’t even smoke cigarettes. I can’t imagine her at a party like the ones Blake has described. I’m sure there are others, like Aubrey, that aren’t interested in that kind of life, either. I could be that person, the one who goes home to her husband or boyfriend after a shoot. If I was interested, that is.

“You should tell her tonight, straight up, you’re not interested. Tell her manager you’re not interested. Maybe then, she’ll drop it.”

“I know. I will. When are you coming home?” I ask just as Aubrey walks around the corner into my bedroom.

“Two weeks, and I’m free. I’m going to fly into LAX. My roommate is going to pick me up and bring me over. Be ready to never get rid of me again.”

“I’m ready.” I look in Aubrey’s direction and she motioning for me to follow her. “Hey, hold on a sec, okay?”

I put my phone down on top of my dresser and follow her out into the hall. “What’s up?”

“We need to get going. Our reservation is in less than an hour, and traffic is going to suck.”

“I’ll be out in just a sec.”

“Hurry up, Charlotte. If we miss this reservation, Zach is going to be pissed.”

I nod, acknowledging what she says before closing my bedroom door behind me.

“You there?”

“Yeah. I gotta get going. My boss just hollered for me.”

“Me too. Two weeks, Blake. We can make it.”

“Love you, babe.”

Aubrey is still waiting for me in the hall when I open my door. She’s leaning against the wall across from my room with her arms crossed over her chest, accentuating her breasts.

“Ready?” I ask with a smile on my face.

The drive to the restaurant takes us maybe ten minutes. I’m not sure what traffic Aubrey thought we would run into, but there was none. Instead of relaxing at my place, we waited in the lobby of the restaurant until our table was ready.

Aubrey and Zach pitch the business to me over dinner. I listen intently, soaking in every word. It doesn’t sound as bad as Blake made it out to be. I would make good money and get to travel. Sure, I would work crazy hours and have to cake makeup on my face every day, but it could also be fun.

I promise them both I’ll give it serious thought. The word, no, is on the tip of my tongue, and Blake is on my mind, but I can’t bring myself to say it. It’s something to consider, and I want to consider it. Blake and I can talk about it when he gets here. It’s not like I’m going to sign a contract before then.