Are you drawn to me because I fit in seamlessly?"
Charlie shakes his head. "No. Definitely not. But at the same time . . . ," he sighs and chews on his upper lip. I think about his lips, studying the way the top one forms a soft, cursive M shape, thinking about the times they've touched mine, and wondering where all of those times will lead."I've made my decision, and my parents are supporting me for the first time in a long while."
"So you're going back to Harvard for them?" We're closer to town now, emerging from the bubble of being to gether, and my heart starts to pound with a different rhythm than the way it did when Charlie finally kissed me. In my chest, that organ beats out feelings of nervousness since I don't know quite what to expect at Slave to the Grind II when I get there. But it also registers contentment--being in a place I love with a boy I really, really like.
"I'm going back for me, but the fact that it pleases them--that doesn't hurt, either."
The traffic merges at the busy island that forks off to Oak
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Bluffs where Chili and Haverford Pomroy live. I imagine Chris there, pining for Haverford--or maybe seeing him again and knowing he's taken will lessen the attraction. It could go either way--you see someone you can't have and you feel nada, or you see them and feel everything.
"It makes sense--of course it feels reassuring to have your parents' approval."
"And funding," Charlie adds."I got by just fine working-- but . . ." He steps on the brake as we wait out the incredibly slow last portion of the drive. "It's not my intention to go back to being the way I was pre-year off." He avoids looking at me, instead focusing on an imaginary mark up ahead. "I was an asshole, pretty much."
"I'm so glad I didn't meet you then."
"Why, you don't have interest in jerks?"
"No--not just that. I think I have a hard time seeing people for other than what they are when I first know them. It was difficult enough to get past you ditching me at the diner that time. . . ." I bite my lip remembering how much that hurt, how relieved I was to find out he didn't show up because he was rescuing his sister. "It's something I need to work on, I guess. If I met you in your asshole phase, I might never have seen you for anything else."
"But now you see the real me," Charlie says."Right?"
I nod.The real Charlie is the one I met on the docks, the
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one who wasn't Ivy League�driven, who wasn't concerned that his pockets were empty. "I do. . . . Only--you were a little . . ."
"What?" He presses the gas and we lurch forward, only to stop again by the supermarket.
"Off--you were kind of off around your parents."
"Was I?" Charlie shrugs. "I didn't notice it--but it's en tirely possible. I had you and your drunken scratches. . . ." He leans over and traces one of the bramble marks on my thigh, his finger leaving tingles up my leg."You were a distraction and--you did show up out of the blue."
"So I'm to blame for your weirdness?" I say it half joking, half not, and wait for his response.
"I'm still getting used to being back in favor with the other Addisons. Mikayla--she never cared. She's always cool. But everyone else . . . they shut you out, you know? You do something other than what's expected of you and it's not just the money that disappears." He looks at me."Everything else does, too."
"Well, I'm not like that." I offer this not only to placate him, but to show him I'm there for him no matter what path he chooses. "I don't care if you're a lawyer, a professional clown, or a mechanic."
Charlie laughs."I love that you specified professional clown, like if I were just an amateur clown that wouldn't be okay."
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I cross my arms over my chest, faux-official."A girl's got to have her standards."We laugh and the traffic finally gives way.We pass the pizza place, the fish market, and the road to the beach, and my pulse races more. I