Progress (Progress #1) (13 page)

“Can I catch a ride home from someone?”

My stomach lurched again because I knew how painful a ride home with Angie would be for him, but I really didn’t want to talk to him. There was too much to explain, and I wasn’t ready.

“Go with Charlie,” Angie said. “You look a little less frazzled than she does right now. Maybe you could drive part of the way.”

Karalee nodded quickly and then looked to me to make sure I was okay with it. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t be, could I?

“I’ll drive, you sleep.” Jesse nudged his chin. “All right?”

I looked away, slightly nodding. “All right.”

“Have a safe trip. Call me when you get home,” Angie shouted as I walked out the door.

I threw my suitcase in the back of the car and got in the passenger seat, reaching over to put my key in the ignition.

Jesse got in and adjusted the seat, pausing with his hands on the wheel. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Just drive, please,” I pleaded.

He motioned to speak but nothing came out. Instead, he turned the key and put the car into drive.

Chapter Fourteen

Charlie

For the first twenty minutes I had the music blaring unbearably, not giving him a chance to speak. But I knew that could only last so long. By the time we got onto the freeway, he turned it off.

“What happened?” he asked. “What did he do to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking.”

He scratched his arm and cracked his neck to one side. “Charlie, I’m not stupid. When a guy tells a girl she’s beautiful, the normal reaction would be a hug or a kiss, or at the very least a ‘thank you.’ I’m not saying I need those things from you, but I will say that whatever that was back there was some scary shit. I saw the fear in your eyes. I saw you run. That’s as bizarre as it gets.”

I shrugged. “I’m just not used to compliments.”

“Oh no. That went
way
beyond not taking the compliment. Is it someone in your family? Someone from school—”

“Maybe I’m not ready to tell you.”

“Then help me understand.”

“What do you want from me? What?” I begged. “Are we friends? Is that all you want?”

“I don’t know. Up until this morning I thought I knew. But now…”

“Now what? What was I to you up until this morning?”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and glanced at me sideways, thinking about the question. But whatever his answer, he wasn’t ready to give it to me.

“You can’t even answer that simple question, can you? You have no idea what you want.”

“Wrong question, Red.” His shoulders softened and he wiped his brow. “
You
don’t know what
you
want. And I don’t know why you’re still here with me.”

My chin quivered but I refused to cry. “I frustrate you, right?” I whispered.

“And I make you sad,” he said.

“I’m no one,” I retorted.

His eyes glossed over. “And I’m nothing.”

“Don’t do this,” I snapped.

He shook his head and his jaw flexed. After a minute of silence, he whispered, “Birds of a feather.”

I shut my eyes, resting my head against the window. Memories of my past jumbled in my mind, pushing them into the forefront. Things I’d hoped to forget and that I’d never have to explain to anyone. Everyone had thoughts that they vowed they’d take to the grave, swearing on their lives that no one ever needed to know. There were a lot of people I had tried to forget.

But how important was he to me? He was going to leave and never return if I didn’t offer him some kind of an explanation. Acting irrational was only painful for those around me, because to me it all made sense. It was all I knew.

His hand reached across the seat and he laced his fingers between mine. “You shake so bad sometimes.”

My chin quivered. “I know what I want. But most days it feels impossible.”

“What do you want?” he asked, soothing my hand with his thumb.

“I want to feel good about myself.”

“What stops you?”

I hesitated. “Almost everything. The mirror. Seeing a happy couple walk into the restaurant. Pretty people. Skinny people. People smiling. Laughter. Anything I can’t have, or shouldn’t have.”

“Why can’t you have those things?”

I lifted my head to look at him. “Because I don’t deserve them.”

He shook his head. “Why? Who says?”

I closed my eyes again and turned my head away. “Everyone.”

“Not me. I don’t say.”

I pulled my hand from his and rubbed my arms with a shiver. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to pretend that the weekend had never happened and go back to the way things were before. My head pounded, my stomach growled, and my eyes could barely stay open.

“I can’t trust you,” I whispered. I cleared my throat and spoke louder. “No matter what you say now, you’ll end up making me feel ugly. And I just don’t know if I have it in me to scrape myself off the pavement again. I’m sick of fighting. I’m sick of allowing everyone into my heart only to have them use something I’ve said against me.”

“You think I’ll hurt you?”

“Chances are good.”

“What happened? Dammit, Charlie! You can’t sit back and blame me for something that hasn’t happened yet. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you pin something on me that happened years before we met. So start talking and make me understand. Because you’re acting like a fucking child—”

“I was raped, you asshole! In every way someone can be,” I screamed. “I’ve been stripped of my pride, my dignity, my virginity, my self-esteem, and my self-worth. And the closer I get to you, the more I see it happening all over again. I see every man that’s ever taken something away from me to never find it again. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’ve got nothing left to give.”

He ground his teeth together and his nostrils flared. “Who was it?”

“Which one?” I was still shouting from the adrenaline.

His head jerked to the side with a glare.

I exhaled, simmering my temper. “
That one
was a friend of the family. I was nine.” I exhaled. “The others were years and years of systematically beating me down. Classmates. Teachers. Kids on the bus. Everywhere,” I slurred, my body giving in to sleep. “I barely go anywhere outside of work anymore. I can’t bear it. The names, the stares, the giggles. I know people are teased every day and they get over it. But I’m different. I know it sounds strange, but I can
feel
their words. Not like you do—not like when someone says something that hurts your feelings and it stings a little. Mine is like I’m inside their head. I hear the words they want to call me before they say them. I’m on the other side looking at myself
with
them. I
feel
how much they hate me.” My eyes grew lazy, shutting on their own accord from the exhaustion.

“So that’s it?”

I kept my eyes shut, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Do I need to have more?”

“No, I meant… That’s it? That’s what your life is going to be like forever? Hiding from everything?”

I shrugged. “I hide because suicide is no longer an option. It was in high school,” I said, each word slower than the one before it. “Tried and failed several times. But I can’t seem to do it now. So I just muddle through.”

The vibration of the car and the whir of the wind lulled me to sleep.

“Evolution,” I mumbled, slipping into the darkness behind my eyes.

“What?” he said.

“Adapt to survive,” I added, barely audible. “The shaking, the panic, the words. Too much…” I trailed off, not remembering if I said anything more.

***

“Charlie. Time to wake up.”

Minutes or hours had passed, I wasn’t sure. I peeled open an eyelid and looked around. We were in the Cities again.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Over an hour. We’re close to my place.”

I shook the sleep from my head and rolled down the window in the hopes that I’d perk up. The last few minutes to his house were quiet.

He pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, chewing the inside of his cheek. I didn’t have anything more to say to him, and with the past few minutes of clarity I had realized I’d probably said too much already.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“There isn’t anything to say. I just wanted you to try to understand why I reacted the way I did this morning.” I tapped my temple and smiled. “Fucked up. And I don’t know how to fix it. Maybe it’s not supposed to be fixed. Maybe this is how everyone lives and I’m just overreacting.” I laughed. “It’s totally possible.”

“I don’t live like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just don’t understand how you can believe that people are good and in one breath say that love exists, and the next minute you’re saying that people suck and you can’t trust anyone. It’s a contradiction. You can’t love and hate people at the same time.”

“I don’t hate anyone. Love is an easy thing to give when you can see who they really are deep down. Love has always been easy. Trust is the thing that gets me into trouble.”

“What happens when you trust?”

I took a deep breath. “I haven’t done it in a while, so I guess we’re about to find out.”

“No.” He shook his head at the realization I was talking about him. “You don’t want to trust me. I’m an asshole. Look, I promise I won’t say anything to anybody about this, but I’m not the kind of guy you should be confiding in. I’ve got a lot of problems myself. I can’t devote the kind of time to you that you want. Or that you deserve. I’m really not a good friend.”

I wasn’t sad by his words, I was partly relieved. “Yeah, I noticed.” But I knew he wanted to be a friend, he just didn’t understand how. “So we’re not friends then?”

His brow furrowed and he tapped on the steering wheel. “I don’t know if we should be—”

I nodded, but felt the pull of his words into me, and I began to smile before he could finish his sentence.

“But it’s too late now,” he added quickly.

Leaning over the seat, he looked for my approval before softly kissing my cheek. And with all that had transpired over the past twelve hours, I barely flinched at the contact. “See you soon, Red.”

I smiled. “See you soon.”

Part II

Progress

I couldn’t tell you when it happened, but it had to have been a gradual change; I never move too quickly.

If someone had told me earlier that year what I was going to go through, I wouldn’t have believed them. Then again, no one could’ve predicted something like that, because nobody knew me.

He was so different from anyone. Even everyone I’ve met since. And he sucked all the life out of me, in the best—and worst—ways.

To this day, he’s with me everywhere I go.

We don’t get strong overnight. For most of us it takes time. Strength isn’t measured by how high and fast our walls go up, but how easily we can watch them fall.

-Charlie

Chapter One

Jesse

I watched out my window as she drove away, hoping she wouldn’t find the CD I’d stashed for her until another day.

One big white daisy in the middle of a sunflower field. She couldn’t have fit in if she tried.

My sweet Charlie.

After she’d gone, I went straight to the kitchen and popped the medication I should’ve taken hours ago.

Jake was home; the game console could be heard from downstairs. I grabbed a Power Bar and bounded down the steps into the smoky haze.

“Hey,” I said, lifting my chin.

“Oh hey.” Jake paused his game and looked up. “How’d it go?”

“Good. I found her.” The corner of the Morrissey poster on the south wall had peeled down, and I stuck it back to the double-sided tape.

“Well, good. Now we can get on with our lives. No more of this Charlie nonsense. She’s like a rash on your sac you can’t get rid of. I don’t know why you had to go anyway.”

None of your fucking business.
“Thanks for the money to get there. I would’ve drove, but—”

“Yeah yeah.” Jake waved his hand. “Your back tire was shot from the other night.” He looked down, wincing with his next words. “You wanna talk about Bree?” he said quickly. “Because I want to get it over with.”

“Not remotely. It’s over. It’s done. Keep moving.”

He nodded, raking a hand through his thick,
so-called
Italian hair. The wannabe-badass sprung from a good-ole-boy suburban neighborhood. Italian, my ass. Small minds with big mouths pissed me off. But he was good for a few things: weed, women, and…weed.

“Good,” he continued. “Then I wanted to tell you that Julie said she’s got a friend for you to meet. Tonight, if you want.”

I sat down next to him on the couch and picked up the extra controller. “Fine, whatever. So you didn’t tell Julie what happened, then? You two are still together?”

He laughed, taking the game off pause. “She’s clueless. I keep her around for one reason only, man. You know that. Bree wasn’t the first—”

“Fine,” I cut him off. “Just don’t go expecting me to be all sunshine and fucking rainbows with Julie. Once she finds out what you do behind her back she’s going to come to me for answers. They always do. It’ll be easier to ignore her when she calls me wondering where you are.”

“That’s fine. You’re a dick to her anyway. You’re a dick to everyone.”

I shoved the last bite of the bar into my mouth and hit the start button to join in.

“By the way, the bike repair shop called,” Jake said, lighting a bowl and taking a deep pull. His words muffled on the exhale. “The part came in and they’re fixing it today. Should be ready this afternoon.”

***

I’d saved over a year for that bike. The damn thing was more expensive than my car. The
Endurance Escape
was longer, lower, and slacker than the other bikes I’d tested. The suspension felt right no matter where I took her, whether skipping over the rocky terrain of the trails or racing down an undulating track. It wasn’t the most efficient pedaling bike, but I loved the way she felt in my grip, and I took her out whenever I could. Not surprisingly, she had a name.

I called her Red.

Purely coincidence.

I’d bought that bike months before I met Charlie.

The trail closest to my house was three miles away. As soon as I got the bike from the shop, I drove straight to the trail and brought her wheels to the dirt and mounted her.

And then my mind did what it always does on the trail: it drifted.

She clouds my head—her and her idealism. I wish she could get a snapshot of my life, what I’ve been through; she would start seeing the world a lot differently. Despite her efforts, she’s going to lose. She needs to wake up, open her fucking eyes, and see the world for what it is. I may have been harsh with her about people being assholes, but they’ll walk over her for the rest of her life if she doesn’t figure it out soon.

And I don’t know why that pisses me off so much.

I guess we all learn the hard way.

Innocence is a slave to unconditional love. It’s the fairy tales of childhood. And it’s what disappointment is made of. If she thinks she loves everyone, she’s fooling herself.

I’ve read about people like her. Empaths. I’ve just never met one. Note to self: research empaths. I wonder what she feels when I walk into the room. Does she feel what I’m feeling or can she only feel it when I speak to her?

It doesn’t matter. If the shaking is the indicator, then I know what she says is true.

Maybe she
has
already gotten a snapshot of my life.

I’m good now, though. I’ve been taking my meds for almost two weeks. Not that I’m happy about it or that I’m okay with the dumbed-down version of myself, but if this is what it takes to make Charlie relax, maybe I could come around more often; spend more time with her.

I knew pretty quick there was something different about her.

I won’t deny that she poses no threat. She’s pretty, sure, but there’s no way I could touch her if I wanted to. That leaves nothing for us but friendship. Again, new territory, but a little easier than coming up with a reason to ditch her come morning. Though I’ll admit if I’m not having sex with her, coming up with pleasant things to say is no cakewalk. My general outlook on life is pretty fucking abysmal.

Sunflowers are nice. Cigarettes are good too. Beer, weed, a bike ride in the fall, Rx Bandits and Less Than Jake, laughing until your cheeks hurt, and Charlie: those are all good things.

The rest is shit.

Oh, I forgot Lily. Lily makes the list.

It sucks having a sickness that people don’t understand. Hell, I barely understand it myself. The moods, the anger, the rage, the racing thoughts, the sleepless nights; the need to keep busy, fill my brain, fuck, move, leave, fight; watching everything in fast forward, thinking the rest of the world is in slow-motion, processing things quicker, yet watching the sloths creep around me. And that’s the good stuff. That’s what makes it fun. Easy.

I don’t want to think about the other stuff. The shit that comes with thoughts of death, razors, pills, lethargy, knowing exactly what day it is and how long the past five minutes took to pass. The self-loathing, the energy it takes just to shower, the erosion of thought, the dizziness, the sleeping, the noise, the headaches, the worry, the doubt, and the depression.

It’s all relative, though. It ebbs and flows. Others have it worse. I can’t look at my life and say I’ve had it easy, but I can’t look at Charlie’s life and say she’s had it hard. Everyone’s normal is relative.

Feeling fat and ugly is such a first-world problem to have. Feeling sorry for herself is also a pointless endeavor. It was always the same old fucking sob story with these suburban chicks: “Hold me so I can feel safe. Don’t leave in the morning so I know you care. Fuck me so I feel better about myself.” Newsflash, girls: when something is as bright and beautiful as the sun, it doesn’t need the kind of attention that smaller stars crave. It’s happy just to be shining.

But Charlie is different, isn’t she? She doesn’t want the same things. But is it because of her past, or does she not feel she deserves them? I don’t understand. If she’s got a family that loves her, she should’ve been fine.

Maybe I’m pissed off I can’t touch her. Maybe I want to take the necks of the men who have hurt her between my hands and choke them until they’re blue. Maybe I think it’s unfair she can’t cope with the thought of me between her thighs, taking her mouth onto mine, or nibbling on her neck. But maybe that’s just me being selfish. And maybe all we’ll ever be is just friends.

Taking a path less traveled, I cut through the brush and slowed down, not knowing what was behind the next turn. I used to get trapped on the trails for hours, but I hadn’t been lost for years. I had been much more adventurous at twenty than I was at twenty-five. Some things were just better off consistent. Others required knowledge that only came with change.

Can she feel it? Does she know that from the first time I touched her I’ve thought about doing it again? She has the softest skin of anyone I’ve ever touched. Or maybe my fingertips know something my mind doesn’t yet.

Her big blue eyes cut through me, begging me to tell her things I can’t. Her short, red, sassy hair keeps me in check, reminding me that the bitch has some bite when she wants. And that little dimple that forms on the corner of her mouth when she pronounces the letter
W
…

Enough! That’s enough, motherfucker.

I can’t touch her. Period.

It’s beyond that now. Now that I know the truth behind her hesitation, there’s nothing I can do about it. Chasing fairy tales never got me anywhere.

Facts—those are what I thrive on. Who needs fantasy when they’ve got a pack of cigarettes in their pocket, a bed to sleep in every night, and food in their stomach? I’ve got everything I deserve and then some. No use wasting thoughts on such trivial pursuits. Charlie is far too bright of a star for me to chase. Not when she carries the light from a thousand others in her heart.

The woods were thick, and I hadn’t kept my speed in check. I cleared a row of pines and a large boulder stood in my path. But I couldn’t turn quick enough. As I swerved to avoid crashing, I lost control, skidding out and scraping my calf against the rocky terrain.

“Fuck,” I yelled, picking myself up from the ground and inspecting my leg. She stung like a bitch and the wound ran deep, with small pebbles and dirt caked inside.

Just another example of what could happen when my head wasn’t in the right place. My life was full of them: bad choices, dishonorable endeavors, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Figuring out early in life that people didn’t stick around had only helped toughen my skin. I was a pussy before then. A family and four foster homes were exactly what I needed. But getting shit right on my own was never my gig. Maybe that’s why I stopped trying a long time ago.

“Busted wheel,” I mumbled, and walked Red the rest of the way back.

Thankfully, it was only a mile.

***

I made it back to the house in time take my second dose of meds and grab something to eat. The scrape on my leg was superficial, and cleaned up well in the shower.

“Hey Jess!” Jake called from behind the bathroom door. “Double date with Julie and Eve in fifteen. We’ll go when you’re out of the shower.”

“Give me a minute.”

After wiping the foggy mirror, I bandaged my wounds. The split lip was healing nicely, but those stitches above my eye were going to take a while. The hole in my chin was what pissed me off the most. Assholes. If any of those cops were in my position that night, they would’ve done the same. It wasn’t about Bree—fuck her—it was the principle of it. Bree shouldn’t have been there. She should’ve been off sucking the congressman’s dick like she did in her day job. A girl like that had no business being around scumfuckers like Jake. She was way too classy for this dump.

She had a future.

I couldn’t blame Jake. He thought about two things: the next time he was going to get laid and the next time he was going to get high. There wasn’t much I could do to excuse his thought process on the situation.

I think I expected more discretion from her. But then there’s nothing like a girl who can’t let go of the past. Moving on wasn’t something Bree knew how to do.

Maybe that’s why Charlie’s words in the car had hit me as hard as they did. Maybe she reminded me a lot of Bree, but stronger. Feistier.

Charlie was too dangerous for me. She was too kind and generous. She was too sweet.

I didn’t do sweet.

Never again.

Fuck it.

I’d figure it out another day. There was only one place I wanted to be that night, and it was buried between the thighs of a girl named Ellie.

Errr, Eve.

Whatever.

***

“So, Jesse. Tell me a little about yourself,” Eve said. “Jake tells me you ride a bicycle.” She was dressed in a short white skirt and T-shirt, and the top showed off her tits. She didn’t seem like the high-rent type, with her thick eye makeup and a hairstyle I hadn’t seen since ’97. My first impression was she didn’t need a lot of fancy words to impress her.

Perfect.

I stuck out my jaw, shooting a glare toward Jake. “Oh yeah?” I scratched my chin. “What else did Jake tell you?” The green floral carpet and orange walls of the restaurant didn’t do much to create a relaxing ambience for the night. The colors chipped away at my mind, and I couldn’t keep my knee from bouncing.

“He told me that you like music, long walks on the beach, and cuddling.” Eve giggled.

There was an easy formula to picking up a trick like her: Talk, but not too much. Make sure she notices you watching her. Touch lightly. Then give her one measly compliment just before you go in for kiss at the end of the night. The fact that she’d been used probably wouldn’t cross her mind, not even for how quickly you ran from her apartment in the morning. I’d bet she’d seen enough one-night stands to realize what happened later the next day when you didn’t call.