In Your Room (3 page)

“I can hear the ball. That means you’re not packing.”

“Fine,” he droned. It was amazing the way his mom had supersonic
hearing when she needed it. He slid the ball and glove beneath the bed and got up to survey the room. It was a mess: piles of clean and dirty clothes were strewn across the floor, half the sheets hung off the bed exposing the mattress, and books were scattered everywhere. The poster of Adam Craig, his favorite mountain bike rider, was torn and starting to curl at the corners, but Charlie wasn’t prepared to let it go.

He hauled a beat-up blue-and-yellow duffel bag out of the closet, dragging with it a few dust bunnies, several magazines, and a book on the history of mountain biking. He scooped the clothes off the floor and dumped them in the bag, figuring that if he’d worn them recently they were good enough to wear all summer.

He sat down next to clear off his desk and unceremoniously swept the unused stack of fliers advertising his bike tours into the blue recycling bin next to his chair, accidentally knocking over a picture frame that had previously been obscured. He turned it over to the snapshot of him and Sylvia on their first date. Now that she was, as of two days ago, his
ex
-girlfriend, he unfastened the hooks, slid the velvet back off the frame, and removed the photo. Looking at it closely, he could see that even back then he wasn’t that into her. He knew he should have trusted his instincts and not bothered going out with her. Had he paid a little more attention to this picture and all the other signs telling him to jump ship two months earlier, he would have saved himself a lot of trouble and not made an enemy out of her.

Charlie’s cell rang and he snapped it open. “I’m on my way,” he said preemptively. “Of course I’m not bailing.”

He looked around at his now half-disheveled room. The rest of the packing could wait. “See you guys in ten.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Sally appeared in the hall holding a spatula, wearing the orange apron Charlie had given her a few birthdays ago.

“Can’t. Dan and Teddy are already waiting,” he said, opening the door to the garage.

“I know this is your last night with your friends, but try not to make it too late, okay? We want to get an early start.”

“I won’t.” He wanted to leave before he got roped back in. It wasn’t all the talk of clothes and girl stuff that he minded, living in an all-female house, but the power his moms, and even his sisters, often had over him. He was a sucker for a nice gesture and felt, as the only male figure in the house, the tug of obligation. When he was away from home he could just be himself.

• • •

Even at seven
P.M.
, the sun was still high up in the sky, giving the impression it was never going to set. This was what he loved most about Boulder nights in the summer—the feeling of endless possibility. He released his hands out to the side like wings and closed his eyes, taking in the clean, crisp mountain air, and the summer sounds of sprinklers, mockingbirds, and mosquitoes.

Charlie heard the low hum of Central Park from over a block away. From that distance, the white lights embracing the trees around the garden sparkled like diamonds, even in the light of day. Charlie stopped pedaling so he could coast the rest of the way, enjoying the view for as long as possible.

As he reached the bike rack, the low hum turned into overlapping conversations. The party was in full effect. Several bars were set up on the perimeter, with tables scattered across the grassy middle. Slide 99, a local band comprised mainly of Fairview High alumni, performed on a stage at the back.

“Duuuuude!” a loud voice called.

Charlie turned around and saw Teddy and Dan surrounded by a group of girls on the grass.

“Come on over, bro!” Teddy yelled again. He had his arms draped around two of the girls, whom Charlie recognized from school. Freshmen, if he remembered correctly.

“What took you so long? We’ve been here for almost an hour,” Teddy said when Charlie reached them.

“Hey, guys,” Charlie said. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Well, you’re here now. Let the games begin,” Dan said, greeting Charlie with a half-hug and a backslap.

Charlie, Dan, and Teddy had all met in ski school when they were five. They had been the three best in their age group and always found themselves down the slope first with time to spare while they waited for everyone else. The coach eventually hired an assistant for the stragglers so he could focus on the threesome, with the hopes of finding Olympic potential among them. They all ended up wasting away their talent, according to the coach—Charlie fell in love with mountain biking, Dan fell in love with soccer, and, by the age of ten, Teddy fell in love with girls.

“Dude, promise when you’re in L.A., you’ll go to a strip club and get a lap dance for me.”

Charlie rolled his eyes, but Teddy pressed further. “Promise, dude,” he said, holding his clenched fist out. “It’s all I ask.”

Unable to resist Teddy’s charm, Charlie broke into a smile and punched it in.

“That’s my boy. And keep track of the real-or-fake quotient. It’ll keep you busy for hours in that city.”

“What’s real or fake?” one of the girls piped up.

“Here, let me show you,” Teddy said, running at her, zombie style, with his arms extended, reaching for her chest.

“You’re unbelievable,” Charlie said, shaking his head and laughing while the girl playfully swatted Teddy away.

Another girl, a cute brunette, sidled up to Charlie. “I know you,” she said, fake-punching his arm. “You’re Charlie Richards.”

“Oh, here it comes,” Dan said.

“That I am,” he responded, taking in her compact, slender build. She looked like a cheerleader. Too bad. Charlie wasn’t in the mood to flirt. “Anyone need a drink?” he asked, trying to exit the situation as gracefully as possible.

“I’ll come with you,” Dan said.

“Wait up,” Teddy called, leaving the girls behind. He turned Charlie around to face him. “Dude, she was totally into you. You’d better not be this picky in L.A.”

Charlie shrugged. “You call it picky—I call it getting wiser with age.” He never tried all that hard or gave much thought to his appearance, but for some reason girls were drawn to his floppy blond hair and lanky build. He was done, though, going out with someone just because she was cute and willing; it was a recipe for things ending badly.

“Incoming,” Teddy alerted his friends. Charlie looked up to see a group of six kids—three girls and three boys—gliding through the crowd. And Sylvia—his ex—was among them. She was unmistakable, with her green eyes and ponytailed red hair that swung like a pendulum in the middle of her back. While she didn’t make eye contact with Charlie, it was clear she knew he was there by the self-conscious way she pushed an imaginary hair away from her face and started to laugh.

“Maybe we should walk the other way,” Dan suggested.

“No, I’m good,” Charlie said, as the group approached.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Dan said.

“Walking away makes me an asshole.”

“And not walking away invites a scene,” Teddy said. “Dude, the girl’s obsessed with you.”

“Give her a little more credit,” Charlie said. He had originally planned on letting things with Sylvia peter out through the summer, but when he’d found out he was going to L.A., it had seemed better to make a clean break. Sylvia hadn’t seen it that way. She’d begged Charlie to give her another chance and forced him to admit that he didn’t like her anymore.

It was true, but it had sounded much harsher out loud.

When she got closer, Charlie broke away from his friends to approach her. “Hi, Sylvia.”

She walked right past, her eyes fixed ahead, like she didn’t even see him.

He had expected her to blow him off, but he didn’t want to be a jerk and ignore her too, especially after hurting her so much.

“All right, we can go now,” he said, returning to Dan and Teddy.

“To the bar?” Teddy asked, raising his empty plastic beer cup.

Charlie surveyed the crowd in the middle of the park near the band. Everyone was drinking and dancing to the music, having what seemed like the time of their lives. If he were staying for the summer he would have been among them, probably even dancing with Sylvia, but he was no longer in the mood for a party. “You guys go ahead. I still haven’t packed, and we’re pretty much leaving at the crack of dawn.”

“But this is our last night, dude,” Teddy protested.

“I’ll be back so fast you won’t even know I was gone,” Charlie said, breaking off in the other direction.

“Hey! Don’t forget! I’ll see you in Utah, bro!” Dan called out.

Charlie pumped his fist in the air in response and jogged off across the grass toward his bike.

He pedaled down the street away from the park, the music and chatter floating up into the dark sky behind him. A few blocks down he arrived at a gate with a sign that read C
LOSED FROM
S
UNSET TO
S
UNRISE
. He ignored it, slipping through an opening in the side. With no one else in his way and the moonlight guiding him, he made it up to a ridge in just fifteen minutes, followed it a few hundred feet, and then turned down a barely visible passage that had been formed by Charlie’s use.

He charged down, full speed, anticipating every fallen branch and exposed root in his path. With no apparent deceleration, he made a sudden left onto another barely formed trail, which descended at a more gradual rate, until it ended at an outcropping of rocks.

Charlie got off his bike and propped it up against the bark of a nearby trunk. He pulled a small flashlight out of a side pocket near the rear wheel and pointed it to the right of the tree, revealing a makeshift passageway formed by a cluster of overlapping stones. He lowered his head and crouched through, entering a cave that extended almost ten feet in.

He sat down on a scattering of pine needles that covered the ground. They still smelled fresh even though they had been there for months. He shined the light out into the forest, exposing little treasures of the night: insects, nests, an owl. Charlie lay down with his hands folded behind his head and stared up at the roof of stone. Shards of moonlight shot down through the fault lines between the overhanging boulders, illuminating his foot, a few pine needles, spots of green lichen crawling over the surrounding rocks like a blanket. He had discovered the cave over two years before on
one of his first exploratory rides through uncharted terrain. He returned regularly, especially when he needed time alone. It was the only place where the rest of the world dropped away.

After about an hour he got up, retrieved his bike, and followed another path down the rest of the mountain that eventually spilled out onto a street around the corner from his house. It was time to get back to reality.

“Rise and shine!” Celeste marched into Molly’s bedroom carrying two large cups from Starbucks.

“This isn’t happening.” Molly pulled the covers over her head.

Celeste put down the tray and stripped the comforter from the bed. “It’s just like ripping off a Band-Aid. The faster it happens, the sooner the pain is over.”

“I like my pain,” Molly said grumpily.

“Then have some of this.” Celeste handed her a steaming cup of coffee. “Extra hot, the way you like it.”

Molly took a sip, taking in Celeste’s uncharacteristically disheveled appearance: baggy sweatpants, oversize hoodie, and slippers. “You actually woke up early to do this,” she marveled. “You’re really going to miss me, aren’t you?”

“You think I can’t handle a couple of months on my own? Please.”

“I’m going to miss you more, if it makes you feel any better,” Molly said.
She got up and changed into the jeans and T-shirt she had laid out at the foot of the bed the night before.

“Honey? You ready?” Laura called from downstairs. “The car’s packed.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there.”

“See? I did you a favor—otherwise you’d still be asleep. I’ll help you take your stuff down,” Celeste said, picking up one of the bags waiting by the door. “You coming?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Molly said, straightening out the comforter and returning all the decorative pillows to the bed. She had changed the sheets before she went to bed and slept on top of them so she wouldn’t have to deal with it now.

Once Celeste left the room, Molly sat down at her sewing machine and ran her fingers along the hard black surface before shrouding it with the patchwork cover she had made from scraps of spare fabric.

She looked around the room one last time before turning off the lights and closing the door behind her.

• • •

Charlie stood on the back bumper of the minivan and reached over the roof to fasten the strap on the bike rack. There was only space for two bikes, but he had managed to fit three by tying his sisters’ bikes together, since they were so small. He had already loaded the van with their luggage, filling up two entire rows. It felt like they were packing up the entire house and never coming back.

“Can you give me a hand?” Sally came out balancing foldable beach chairs and various other items that had been shoved into a garbage bag at the last minute.

“I’m sure they have those in L.A.,” Charlie said, helping her steady a falling chair. “And there’s no more room.”

“Of course there is,” she said, sliding a chair under a row of seats. “See?”

“I still haven’t put my bag in,” he said. “But it’s about a third the size of what you guys packed.”

Mia and Heather were on the front lawn, taking turns doing somersaults and cartwheels, cheering each other on.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning,” he said, shaking his head as he walked past them on his way back into the house. “Why are you so awake?”

“Because we’re excited!” Mia called back, but Charlie was already inside.

His duffel bag was sitting unzipped on his bed where he had left it when Lisa summoned him to pack the car earlier that morning. He grabbed a few loose items of clothing that were still scattered across the floor and shoved them in.