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I take the page out and unfold it. It’s a long yellow sheet of legal paper crammed with words from top to bottom, filling both front and back. Looks like something Ted Kaz-whatever his name is would write—the Unabomber, yeah. It’s more like a scrawled out manifesto than a letter that’s supposed to express what I feel.
Just holding the paper feels therapeutic. Even though the intended recipient will never read the words, writing them lifted a heavy weight. I guess I never really talk to anyone, about anything that’s real anyway. I would never saddle my mother or Tim with my troubles, Mike is far away and dealing with his own shit, and my friends aren’t true friends. But that’s entirely on me. Garth, Sienna, Tyler—they’re good people, it’s just that I’m not in the habit of letting anyone in. Talking to Charlotte through a letter she will never read might be stupid, but it feels good, or more like something I need.
Dear Charlotte,
Youdon’tunderstand.
You think I dislike you, but I don’t. You think I hate you for the sins of your brother, but I don’t. You think I look the other way when you’re around because something or someone else has caught my eye, but that’s not how it is.
I noticed you the first week of your freshman year. Mr. Vargas had me acting like some jerkoff ambassador for the new honors program students. Do you even remember that lame speech I made? I remember thinking at the time that it was just another thing I had to do, another chance to impersonate a “young man with strong leadership qualities” for my college applications. It was another small step in my grand plan to get out of this town, this state, this life. But when I looked out into the group of no more than thirty shining stars, over half of them not truly qualified to be in any kind of honors program whatsoever, I saw you perched on the edge of your seat, looking right at me as your pen scratched out notes on your paper. You were taking notes! That made me laugh my ass off because I knew I was just repeating the bullshit standard lines—manage your time, start thinking about college sooner rather than later, take advantage of the test prep courses that Mr. Vargas offers, blah, blah, blah. But you were drinking it all in. You looked so earnest, so damned adorable. At the time, you made me wish I had a little sister or brother to guide and look after.
But this year Inoticedyou. What a difference a year makes. I saw you messing around on the field with a few of your friends, practicing some dance moves, and I asked someone what your name was. Charlotte, the kid told me. I was thinking to myself that it was a pretty name, it suited you, but then he said your name in full…Charlotte Mason. I’m used to disappointment by now, so I figured this was just fate’s way of kicking me in the ass yet again.
Suddenly you weren’t pretty, you weren’t cute—you were one of them. And I do hate your family. I think your brother, with his nice cars and his expensive clothes, is lower than scum. And from where I sit, your father is no better.
And then there’s you…
When I first saw you working in the diner, I was so angry. I still don’t know whythe fuckyou work there. You don’t need the money and it’s on the shit side of this county. It’s like you’re slumming or something, and I can’t figure out why. But what I hate about it the most is that the more I watch you, the more I want you. And I can’t have you—itcan’thappen. So this is why I act the way I do. The reason I push you away and act like a jackass whenever you’re around.
I want you to know that I hate myself for it, for the way I am around you. And it’s all on me. You’ve done nothing to deserve it—any of it. I am the one who should be saying sorry.
You won’t see this letter, so you’ll never know. You won’t know how sorry I am. You won’t know how I really feel about you. You’ll never know that most nights I drift off to sleep thinking about you, so you’re front and center in my dreams. And in those dreams, my life is entirely different. I don’t have a brother rotting away in prison or a brother who was run out of town because of who he is. I don’t have a mother who can’t afford to buy medicine when her asthma kicks in, or who feels guilty because her sons haven’t seen a dentist or doctor in years. We don’t live in a trailer with unreliable heat and we don’t worry about paying our bills. In my dreams I’m with you and it’s always summer. I am happier than I’ve ever been. I imagine that if I really was with you, that’s what life would be like. But those are dreams, and my reality is what it is.
I see you. I see the sadness that weighs you down too. But I also see you when you dance. When you dance your happiness pours out of you and seeps into everyone watching. I can’t look away when you move. You are everything I imagine a man could want. You’re everything I want but can’t have.
Someday you’re going to be loved by a man who worships you. His sole purpose in life will be to protect you and keep you happy. Me? I’ll be nothing more than a bad memory. I already hate that guy you’re going to fall in love with someday, but at the same time, I’m grateful to him.
You didn’t understand before, but hopefully, now you do.
-Simon
The tap on my window startles me. Mr. Roberts’ face is up against my window. He’s smiling, rubbing his bare hands together to ward off the cold. “Whatcha doing, son? Get inside!”
I take one last look across the street and see that she’s looking right back at me.Can’t happen, I remind myself as I switch the headlights off and take the key from the ignition. I fold the paper and tuck it into the glove compartment.
Shut it down, shut her out.
* * *
Charlotte
Instead of taking my usual break outside, I bring my phone to call Daisy. I need something to focus on, a buffer, something to do with my hands and my thoughts. This morning I caught him staring into the diner again, but he turned away the second our eyes met.
She picks up on the first ring and doesn’t even wait for me to say hello. “I had so much fun last night! Oh, and here’s an interesting tidbit…It was a lot more fun without the mind-numbing shots.” Daisy laughs so hard she snorts when she adds, “I even made some new friends because I was actually able to talk this time!”
“Good for you, freak. So how was it, who was there? Give me all the deets.”Was Simon there, was Simon laughing and having a good time, was Simon sucking face with that redhead he was sitting next to in the gym?
Tyler, Skylar, blah, blah, blah…Zach someone or other puking on the coffee table, blah, blah, blah…Sarah Beele has the best clothes and is the coolest girl ever, blah¸blah, blah. No mention of Simon.
“Charlotte, are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I go for some fake enthusiasm. “So, the party sounds like it was great!”
“You weren’t even listening, were you?” Daisy isn’t mad, I don’t think. By now she’s used to my nonsense, to the distance. “I was asking if you want to go to the mall with me and Sarah later.”
“Can I let you know after work?”
“Sure, no pressure, whatever, let me know…We’re leaving at four.”
