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“I know, but I just wish our lives were a little more exciting. We could at least do something other than study one day out of the week,” she complains.
“What? Investigating the qualitative and quantitative nature of chemical systems at equilibrium isn’t exciting enough for you?” I tease.
“We could’ve gone to the movies or something. Even the guys are at that party.”
“I know, I can practically hear the music from here.”
Some jock from King City High who lives a few streets over from Charlotte was hosting tonight. Mason, Noah, and Chase tried to convince us to go with them, but after the last party I went to, I firmly decided I’d rather study. Charlotte agreed, and Annalisa proclaimed that since we weren’t going, she wasn’t either—she and Julian went out on a date instead.
When Mason, Noah, and Chase tried to get Aiden to come, he said “Busy,” without elaborating, which I totally didn’t understand. They do everything together, especially party. It was already bad that Julian wasn’t going, but now Aiden wasn’t either.
Mason and Noah bugged him to go, but Aiden gave them a stern drop-it look and said, “You know why.”
When he did that, their eyes widened in realization, as if Aiden explained everything perfectly with that one look and three words.
“Well, I’m done studying, let’s just go to bed. Sleep here tonight?” Charlotte asks me.
She’s been inviting me to sleep over every time I’m at her house, and I’m running out of excuses why I can’t. I want to sleep at Charlotte’s, and my mom probably wouldn’t find out if she wasn’t home; it’s just that I literally can’t sleep at Charlotte’s. My pills are in my nightstand back at my house, and without them, I won’t be getting any sleep.
“Sorry, Char, my mom’s expecting me to be home.” My mom’s on an overnight flight; she wouldn’t even know if I went home or not.
I feel bad lying to Charlotte, but I don’t want her to know that I need pills to get to sleep. Even with the pills, I don’t do much sleeping. She’d think I was weird if I couldn’t sleep, so I got out of bed and started working out at 4:30 a.m.
She frowns at me. “Are you sure? I don’t snore or anything.”
I laugh at her as I pack up my stuff. “I don’t doubt that, I just need to get home,” I say. “I’m not the greatest sleeper.”
After I reassure Charlotte that I have to go home multiple times, she finally allows me to head downstairs. Her older brother is at a party and her parents are at some fundraiser, so we don’t bother trying to be quiet as we head downstairs.
At the door, we talk a little more while I put my shoes on. As I reach for the doorknob, the doorbell rings. My hand freezes on the handle, and Charlotte and I look at each other.
“Are you expecting someone?” I whisper.
Charlotte shakes her head. The two of us stare at the big wooden door that separates us from whatever is on the other side of it. “It’s past midnight. My brother’s crashing at his friend’s house and my parents wouldn’t ring the doorbell.”
The doorbell rings three more times. We take a step back from the door and stare at it, unsure about what to do.
Then, “Charlie! It’s me! Open the door!”
Thank goodness: Chase. Charlotte opens the door quickly and he stumbles in. “Charlie! Amelia? What’re you doing here?”
He slurs his words so much that we can barely understand them. He’s disheveled, and sways back and forth in the doorway.
“How drunk are you?” Charlotte moves to catch him as he stumbles again.
“What? Me? I only had a little,” he slurs, hiccupping at the end. “Okay-y-y. I might’ve drank a teensy bit too much.”
“Damn it, Chase. I told you not to mix energy drinks and alcohol! It makes you think you can keep drinking and then you get drunker than ever.” Charlotte scolds him as he leans on the wall, free of her support.
“You’re right, Charlie. You’re alwayyyss right. That’s one of the things that makes you so great,” he slurs, and looks at her with unfocused eyes.
“How did you get here?” I look outside. “You didn’t drive did you? Or get in the car with someone drunk?”
A lazy smile spreads over Chase’s face and his eyelids droop. “I walked! The party’s, like, right over there.” He makes a noncommittal hand gesture. “I may be drunk, but I know drinking and driving’s a big no-no. Ha-ha. Nonno. I sound Italian. That’s how they say grandpa, right? Noo-noo.”
“Yes, Chase. Italians call their grandfathers nonno,” Charlotte says slowly, like she’s speaking to a child.
Chase laughs. “Even when I’m drunk I’m still smart! But not as smart as you, Charlie. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known. And prettiest. You’ve got the nicest smile I’ve ever seen. And you smell so pretty! Like vanilla and strawberries.”
