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“Yes. Just for a week.”
I breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Okay. Do you want me to come with you?”
Charlotte covered my hand with hers. “No, but thank you for the offer. I haven’t been home in so long. I need to do this on my own.”
Every time she said the word home, it sliced me like a sheet of paper—subtle, yet painful. “Well, have a safe trip.” I didn’t know what else to say.
What if she didn’t want to come back? What if she didn’t come back? What if she missed her old life too much to return here to her new one?
Fear gripped my heart as Charlotte leaned over the console and kissed my cheek.
“I’ll see you when I get back.”
All I could do was nod.
Charlotte
I collected my luggage and rolled it outside into the warm air. I breathed it deep into my lungs; it didn’t smell like garbage. I made a visor with my hand as I searched for Carla’s beat-up Toyota. The palm trees lining the street made me smile as I waited. Finally.
Carla pulled up several minutes later. She flung her car door open and ran around the front end to where I was standing at the curb. Gripping my shoulders tightly, she stared at me as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I never thought I would see you again,” she whispered.
I pulled her in for a long hug, unable to speak over the emotion in my throat.
After a minute had passed, Carla pulled away from me, quick to wipe the evidence of her sentiment. I imagined how Mallory would’ve reacted in this situation, and I couldn’t help but smile. The two were so different, yet both had become my best friends.
It was quiet on the ride to Carla’s. All I had told her when I called yesterday was that I was coming to see her, and that I would explain everything. One second, we were best friends dancing at prom; the next second, I’d vanished. The stoic expression on her face told me she was waiting for me to start talking.
“You look great,” I offered. Her caramel hair fell in loose waves, much longer than I’d ever seen it. Her pencil skirt and buttoned-up blouse made her look even more mature than she already acted.
“Don’t mind the work attire. I took a half- day today.”
“Where are you working?” It felt odd not knowing the answer to such a simple question.
“The registrar’s office.” She glanced at the yellowish-brown bruise fading on my cheek. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”
I looked down at my lap, picking at the fringe on my jeans. “It has definitely felt like hell.”
“Yeah, well, it was no picnic for me either.”
“I’m sorry, Carla. I’ve wanted to call you every single day since I left.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It’s complicated. A lot happened.”
“We have a long ride home. Start talking.”
For the next hour, I carefully went over every detail since the moment I met John and Tommy for the first time at the bakery that fateful night. Every now and again, I would see Carla’s hand lift to swipe a tear off her cheek. Then, she’d readjust her large sunglasses and smooth down her already smooth hair. She didn’t ask any questions. She didn’t make any comments. She just listened. I expected nothing more from her.
“Is anyone going to be home?”
“Yup.” Carla turned down her street. “The fam is very excited to see you.”
Seeing the familiar houses on the block I used to ride my bike up and down, I suddenly wondered who was living in my old house. Part of me wanted to see it, and part of me didn’t. Maybe I was better off not taking that stroll down memory lane. There was no sense in going back. Yet, ironically enough, here I was at the one place I never thought I’d be again.
Carla’s parents were sitting on the porch when we pulled into the driveway. Everything looked the same: the mess of bicycles, sports equipment, and action figures strewn about the front lawn; the matching rocking chairs that creaked whenever people sat in them, and the rusty old car parked in the open garage.
