Page 39

Charlie

I can’t tell you how long I sit at the airport outside of Bailey’s gate, waiting for her to get off that stupid plane and come back to me, but I can tell you I watched the gate agent change before I finally left.

My truck smells like her fucking perfume, something I’m pissed about. I slam the door harder than I mean to and drive home in silence, stopping to pick up a pack of cigarettes on the way. I’ve never smoked in my house, but as I lay in bed that night and try to sleep, failing miserably, I concede to watch old Buffy reruns and smoke the entire goddamn pack.

Fucking everything smells like her, even through the cigarette smoke. My pillows, the sheets, me . . . an ache forms in my chest, burning and painful. I rub the spot, absentmindedly.

My phone rings at some point jostling me awake. I clamber in the bed, finally finding it.

“Hello?” I ask, groggy from my few hours of sleep. I check the clock on the bedside table and see it’s past four in the afternoon.

“Are you coming to work today?” Dad asks, his voice calm, instead of the anger I was expecting.

I sit up and rub my fingers over my eyes.

“Fuck. Sorry. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line as I start hunting my jeans.

“You sure you don’t need a day off?”

I wince. The last time Dad asked me that was when I was coming down from a three-day alcohol binge. He didn’t want me at work because I was driving away customers, spilling drinks, stumbling, being a bigger asshole than I already am.

“No. I need to work.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’ll come to me if you need to talk, right?”

I slide my jeans on haphazardly with one hand, almost tripping and meeting my demise.

“You don’t need to worry, Dad,” I lie. “I’m good.”

I’m most definitely not good, but admitting that is admitting that I fell in love with Bailey and I’m not ready to fucking do that. Once you say out loud that you’re as infatuated as I am with Bailey, it becomes real. Nothing you say or do can erase that.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I hang up the phone and finish getting ready. I don’t bother taking a shower. I’m going to be hot tonight and there’s no one to impress at the restaurant, even if I gave a fuck anymore.

That flew back to California with Bailey.