“Your sister,” the old woman said abruptly, making Charlie flinch. “How long has she had this condition?”
Charlie went back to being a statue by the fireplace. “Since she was a kid.”
“Has there been an official diagnosis? Is she being treated?”
“Her doctor thinks it might be epilepsy,” he lied, looking down at his cup. “He’s treating it like epilepsy but, even after all this time, he’s still not sure.”
“Has she seen other specialists?”
At this, his jaw tightened. “My uncle has hired the best doctor he can afford. We trust his judgment.”
Aunt Dinah’s eyes flashed in his direction. If she disapproved of his tone, she didn’t say. She just lifted the mug to her lips and took another sip.
He mimicked her, turning back to the fire.
“Is there anything I should know, anything that could make her visit more comfortable?” the old lady asked.
“She likes tea,” Charlie offered with a shrug, as if to prove he wasn’t bothered by her persistent questioning. “Earl grey and mint are her favorites.”
If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said Aunt Dinah’s face had become softer. But then she finished her coffee and stood. “I’m ready to take you home now. Let me just get my raincoat and we’ll be off.” She left before he could answer.
Charlie stared after her, eyebrows peaked.
“You ain’t gonna figure her out so quit trying,” I said. “You’ll just end up with a headache. Ask me how I know.”
He shook his head and went to deposit his empty mug on the coffee table. “Anyway, I have something for you.”
“What kind of something?” I asked, sitting up a little.
Stuffing his hand into his pocket, Charlie stepped closer to me. “I was bored over the weekend and started tinkering. Ended up making this. Thought you might like it.” He placed a tiny cloth pouch in my waiting palm and stepped back. Then he shrugged. “Jasmine doesn’t have the right piercing for it otherwise I would’ve given it to her.”
I set the mostly empty mug of coffee aside to reach into the pouch and pull out a cartilage earring, the kind that curved along the edge of the ear. Delicate black stars were strung together with silver wire and, at the very top, was a bright pink pig with a pair of snowy wings.
“It’s a flying pig,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah.” He scratched the top of his head through the cap. “Don’t ask me how I come up with these things.”
I gave him a look, half-incredulous, half-amused. “I was wearing a shirt with a flying pig on it the day we met.”
The scratching stopped. All of a sudden he couldn’t look at me. “Oh.”
“You don’t remember?” I asked, lowering the earring and its pouch into my lap, not believing it for a second.
“You wear all sorts of weird things,” he said in his defense, color rising to his face.
My smile got bigger and bigger. “That’s borderline romantic, Charlie boy.”
“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back.” He held out his hand, still not looking at me.
I squeezed his fingers. “Thank you.”
Finally, he looked me in the eye. A flicker of insecurity passed over his face. “You like it?”
“I do.”
The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
I wanted to kiss him right then, so badly it made my stomach hurt. I held his hand just a little bit tighter, pushed against the couch with my thighs, reached up just a little closer, took in an expectant breath—
Of course, Aunt Dinah had to walk in then and ruin everything. Charlie moved away from me, taking his hand with him. We were forced to say a formal goodbye and then she waited for him to put his sneakers back on.
“See you tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder.
I watched him go, unreasonably pissed. And sad. I think my heart actually sank when the door closed. I was still sitting there, staring moodily at the earring he’d made for me, when my aunt got back. I couldn’t remember a time when my happiness had ever been dependent upon someone else’s presence. Not even when I was a freshman, dating a boy for the very first time.
Dammit. What was this guy doing to me?
I wasn’t really mad, though. More than anything, I wanted a universal clicker, one with a giant rewind button that could bring us back to the moment when he’d been standing in front of me, letting me come closer, letting me potentially take things further. Would he have kissed me back? Or would he have stepped away? He’d made me an earring. That meant something, right? It went beyond the normal friendship stuff we’d been doing lately.
Aunt Dinah didn’t have to wrestle me into the chair lift. I just sat there, thinking. More like plotting. I’d find out tomorrow. I’d lay it all out on the table and see what he did.
Chapter 22
Charles
“This isn’t a good idea,” I said. Again.
Jasmine ignored me, pressing her hands against the glass and gazing up at Great Aunt Dinah’s estate. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.” Without taking her eyes off of the house, she opened the car door and stepped out.
Uncle Vic and I followed.
Thankfully, it had stopped raining on the drive over here. The plants in Dinah’s yard were still wet, having a light gleam and a fresh earthy smell. Water still dripped along the rain gutters, down pipes, and into the grass. I glanced around, making sure no one was witnessing my sister’s first home visit. This neighborhood felt secluded. Quiet. Still. I could almost believe we were out of the city if it weren’t for the skyscrapers I could practically feel looming behind me, and the distant sounds of traffic.
Jasmine walked carefully across the lawn. The look on her face was one full of awe. It made me feel a little better about this whole thing.
Please, don’t let there be any deaths today, I prayed to who knew what. Just let her have a nice,
