Charly's Epic Fiascos (7 page)

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Authors: Kelli London

BOOK: Charly's Epic Fiascos
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Smax came from the back with an orange towel thrown over his shoulder. Charly smiled. Only Smax could pull off the bright colors he donned himself in, and today his three-piece suit was burnt orange with matching alligator shoes and argyle socks that show every time he pulled up his too-long pants, which was often. “They ain't teaching y'all nothing in school! America is a country. The United States of America—where you think you live—is a corporation. Doodle it, and see.”
Charly laughed. “You mean Google it, Smax.”
Smax grabbed the towel off one shoulder, then slung it to the next. “Doodle it, Google it, smoodle it! It is what it T.I. is. Come on, Rudy and Doc, we're closing. Doc, we'll see you tomorrow, and, Rudy, we'll drop you off. Charly, you and this little greedy gal good? Or y'all need a ride too?”
“All I need is some of these to go,” Lola said, holding up her bare rib bone.
Charly took off the apron she wore to bus tables, then folded it over and over. It was closing time, and she wasn't going to waste a second longer than she had to. The moment of her dreams had come, and the cellular store was waiting. It only stayed open an hour longer than Smax's, so she needed to hurry. “I'm good, Smax,” she said, then tossed the towel to him. “You mind putting that up for me? I'm in a rush.”
Smax caught the apron, then reminded her that she worked for him and not the other way around, then finished with, “Okay, Charly, but only this once.” He turned to Lola. “And the only ‘some of these' you getting, if you don't carry your greedy butt out of here, is these kicking you right in your bee-hind.” He pointed to his wing-tipped orange shoes.
Lola sucked her teeth, then grabbed Charly by the arm. Suddenly, she stopped, then pointed at a television set. “Look at this, Charly. They're holding auditions for a new television show in New York next week. Too bad you won't be there.”
The television died thanks to Smax's clicking the remote. “Y'all better go so I can lock up,” he said.
“Let's go,” Lola said to Charly, then mumbled under her breath to Smax, “That's why your short behind needs a stepstool to pee.”
 
Charly handed Lola one suitcase, then another, as Lola set them down on the floor. Finally, the beige one was in her hands, and she could feel excitement shoot through her veins. In less than an hour, she'd have her phone and connection to the world via the Internet feature, the video camera, and all the apps it had.
“Pass it, Charly,” Lola urged, hands held out, ready to accept the weight of it, which Charly had warned her about.
Charly handed the heavy case to her best friend, then stepped off the chair and made her way to the bed. “Yayer!” she celebrated, dancing in a circle. With the addition of the hundred bucks she had pinned inside her shirt, she had all the money she needed to get the phone, plus cash to pay the bills. “Lola, I'm so excited! Finally, I get to get something I really want. Something I need.”
Lola put a hand on her hip, then side-eyed Charly. “Yeah, and it's about time too. Who can forget the computer incident? Brigette knows she's wrong for that. Who steals their kid's computer money and never even apologizes or buys them one?”
Even though the mention of Brigette's “borrowing” the money Charly had saved for a computer would have ruffled her before, today she couldn't be moved. On this day, she would get her phone, and that device was way better than any PC, as far as she was concerned. Now she could connect to the world, study, act, and not have to hide the clunk of a cell she'd been forced to have, the one she was too ashamed to let anyone see, with the exception of her few close friends. “Opening it!” she said, ignoring Lola, and preparing them both for the big reveal.
Lola nodded, grabbing things out of the case before Charly had opened it all the way.
“Here,” Charly said, moving the picture of her and her dad out of the way, then going for the rest. “The money's under here in a tear.” The rubber-banded cue cards lay on the bed next to the case, as did notebooks. Finally, Charly stacked some loose papers on top of the pile.
“There. There it is!” Lola said, pointing to the slit. “I can see it.”
Charly nodded, then did the same roundabout dance she'd done seconds ago. “Me too,” she said, then stuck her fingers into the small opening. Her eyebrows cringed. Her fingertips touched only fabric and the shell of the suitcase. She grimaced, still feeling for the money. “It must've moved. Maybe it's farther down. . . .”
“Could've shifted when we moved it,” Lola added, then began emptying more stuff out of the suitcase.
Finally, the suitcase was empty, and Charly could see the entire lining. It was just as flat as one of the pieces of paper she and Lola had set on the bed. Maybe she had folded it that thin, she tried to convince herself, sticking her hand farther inside the slit, feeling and hearing it rip. Still nothing.
“Let me help,” Lola said.
Charly pushed Lola back. “I got this,” she said, pulling her hand out of the slit and grabbing the tear. With all her might, she ripped the lining out of the suitcase. It was empty. There was not a dollar—not even a hint of money there. Stunned, Charly just stood looking into the bare suitcase. A tear trickled out of her eye; then she broke. Her head was in her hands, her feet were stomping on the floor, and a wail escaped her mouth, turning into a scream.
Stormy burst through the door. “What's wrong?” She looked at Lola, then Charly. “Oh God. What did Brigette do? I knew it. I knew it!” Stormy cried.
Charly's head perked. She knew her mother had gotten her money, but hearing Stormy's confirmation incensed her. “What did she do, Stormy? What did you see?”
Stormy looked into Charly's teary eyes. “The casino. She rushed out of here to go to Elgin, and I knew something was wrong. How can you go to the boat casino if you're broke?”
Charly's head dropped, then her hand. She dug into her pocket and pulled out her ancient cell phone. Before she knew it, she had Brigette on the line.
“What'cha want?” Brigette said. “I can't be on here long; I'm not supposed to be on the phone on the floor.”
“Where's my money, Brigette?” Charly yelled.
Brigette was quiet.
“You lost it? You lost it, gambling?!” Charly screamed, too mad to care about respecting her mother. “You owe me—”
Brigette's voice rose. “I don't owe you jack, Charly! If anything, you're trifling behind owes me for having you.”
Charly hung up the phone before Brigette could say anything else. She looked at the suitcase with the ripped lining, then to Lola, and finally at Stormy. Her eyes moved back to the bed, then shot to the top of the open closet, and traveled down to the baggage on the floor. The beige one was too heavy, but somewhere in that stack of cases on the floor, one or two would do, and Charly knew which ones. Brigette's coveted lavender and natural leather set. “I'm not doing this anymore. It's my life, and I'm gonna make it what I want,” was all Charly said before she took Brigette's luggage from the back of the closet, then began stuffing her belongings in it. “I'm going to move to New York and live with Auntie,” she stated, then beamed despite being upset. “They're holding auditions for a reality show that's filmed at the network where she works.”
“You think she'll let you?” Stormy asked, tears in her eyes.
Charly nodded. “Yes. She told me I could live with her years ago. Why not now?”
7
M
ason was on Charly's left, and Stormy and Lola were in the seat behind her. Her bags—that's what they were now, hers, not Brigette's—knocked against the trunk of the SUV as they made their way down the pothole-riddled street heading toward Rockford, the nearest and second-largest city in Illinois. Charly leaned against the window and stared at the passing blocks. Everything looked a bit different to her now that she was leaving. The store on the corner where she'd shopped since she was a kid seemed small-town, nothing like the ones she imagined in New York, and the kids playing on the corner caused her to hurt. If they didn't leave like she was they'd be doomed, she believed.
“You okay?” Mason asked, putting his hand on her knee as he made his way onto Business Route 20.
Charly's eyes turned to face him before her head.
Mason snatched away his hand. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . .” he explained, mistaking Charly's look.
Charly smiled and shook her head. She waved away his explanation, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable right before she left. She shrugged, looking longingly at him. She liked Mason too much to confuse him, and it was time he knew how she felt.
“Now or never,” she mumbled, giving herself a pep talk. “It's okay, Mason. Really,” she said, grabbing his hand and putting it back on her knee.
Mason glanced at her with stretched eyes, before putting his attention back on the road. The corners of his mouth turned up as he suppressed a smile. “Really,” he parroted, then threw her a winking glance. “Like that?”
Charly nodded. “Like that,” she confirmed.
Mason squeezed her knee. “You know you're dead wrong for telling me this when you're leaving, Charly. It's messed up.” He zoomed down East State Street, then hung a left onto Mills Road, passing a gas station. He turned again, pulling into the parking lot of The Clock Tower Inn. The SUV cruised to a stop in front of the entrance, where Charly would wait for the bus to take her into Chicago.
Lola cleared her throat, then said, “Me and Stormy are going to get some snacks out of the gas station. It seems you two need to talk.” She was quiet for a moment. “Isn't that right, Stormy? Stormy!”
Stormy, staring ahead at her sister and Mason, finally snapped to attention. “Um. Yeah. Right.”
Mason looked intensely at Charly, then opened his door and hopped out of the SUV. He adjusted his fitted baseball cap, then stuck his hands in his pockets. “I'll get your bags.”
Charly's eyebrows drew together.
What on earth was he talking about?
she wondered. Lola and Stormy had just given them time alone, and he'd opted to get her luggage instead of talking? That wasn't going to happen. She'd stayed quiet about her feelings for Mason for too long to just let their opportunity slip.
“Mason? You okay?” she asked, stepping down from the SUV and heading toward him.
He was setting her biggest suitcase on the ground. “Yeah. I'm good.” His words were clipped and his expression was blank. He reached into the hatch to get the other, then drew back, obviously changing his mind. “You know what? I take that back. No, I'm not. I'm not good, Charly. And you're foul,” he said, picking up her bag from the ground, then putting it back into the hatch. “Get in,” he ordered, then went to the driver's side and waited for her to get in before he pulled off, then parked in the lot.
Charly just sat there. For once in her life, she was speechless. She was almost afraid to speak, fearing what Mason would say. She'd never seen him this way before, and it concerned her. “What is it, Mason? Why are you so mad?”
Mason's temples throbbed and he chewed on his bottom lip. He looked at her, half angry and half something else she couldn't pinpoint. “You know why I always track you down? Why I always talk to you? Or the reason that I borrowed this car—without permission—to take you to the bus so you can leave?”
Charly's eyes widened this time. She shook her head, then nodded. “Because we're friends who have so much in common?”
Mason chuckled. “No. Because I like you . . . as more than a friend.”
Charly, still sitting, managed to put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, right. You like your friend who helped you with the paper,” she accused.
Mason mushed her forehead.
“Ow!” Charly said. “Why'd you—”
Mason laughed coolly, but very calm. “Never that! My friend is my homeboy. We cool, but we're not that cool. Know what I mean?”
So Mason wasn't secretly seeing someone else. Relief moved through Charly, then quickly gave way to tension. With her moving almost a thousand miles away, it didn't matter if Mason was single or not. She'd be too far to have a serious relationship. “Well, I . . .”
Mason's lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, and she didn't know whether to kiss him back or flee. As popular as she was, she'd never locked lips with someone before, and had found no one worthy of more than a casual cheek smooch. But Mason was different and more than worthy, she decided, then kissed him back.
“Here,” he said, cutting short the kiss and putting a piece of paper in her hand. “That's my cousin's number in Brooklyn. When you get to the city, give her a call if you need anything.” He pecked her on her lips again. “And call me if you need anything else, before you get there or after. I don't know why you just don't have your pops fly you out instead of taking the stupid bus.”
Charly just stared into his eyes. Now would've been the perfect time to admit to lying about her father, but she couldn't come clean. Not after Mason had admitted to liking her too. She couldn't risk losing him so soon.
“It's just something I have to do on my own,” she said, a mixture of excited and hurt. She was happy to leave, but she'd miss Stormy and Lola and Mason and her friends at Smax's. “And I don't want anyone stopping me.”
Mason nodded, then arched his back, lifting his body from the seat. He stuck a hand in his pocket, and pulled out a thin stack of money. “I was gonna use this to buy some new kicks, but I figure you could use it more than me right now. I can't have my girl on the road without enough cash. And promise me you'll be careful.”
Charly could see Lola and Stormy in the side mirror, approaching in the distance. Lola was smiling and talking a mile a minute and Stormy looked like someone had just died. A tear escaped Charly's eye. She'd miss her sister and worry about her constantly, but she had to leave. Her leaving was Stormy's only chance for happiness. Charly would go to New York, become a huge television star, then send for her sister. That was the plan, and it was also the promise she'd written to Stormy in the letter in her pocket. Hesitantly, she took the money from Mason. With only the one hundred dollars that she'd picked up from Bathsheba, she wasn't in the position to turn any cash down. “Thanks, Mason. You don't know how much this is going to help me.”
Mason wiped away her tear, then got out of the SUV. He unloaded the trunk while Charly got out and met her sister and Lola halfway. By the time she reached Stormy, her dollar-store mascara was showing its worth, tracking down her cheeks in a black mess.
“Eww,” Lola said, wiping Charly's face. “How're you gonna go grab anyone's attention for a reality show looking like this? Now if you were auditioning for Animal Planet, you'd be in, sister girl. Because right now you're resembling a raccoon. And it's not a good look for you.”
Stormy smiled a huge, obviously false smile. “She's right, Charly. It's not the time to let yourself fall off. You're too pretty for that, and, remember, we're from the South Side.”
Charly nodded, then wrapped her arms around Stormy. She held her tight, kissing the side of her head as if she'd birthed her while reaching into her pocket to retrieve the letter for Stormy.
“I got it, Stormy. I got it. You know I'm Charly St. James. I don't fall off, I make things happen,“ she said, then laughed, releasing Stormy from her embrace. “Here,” she said, extending her instructions for Stormy. “Bathsheba will save your money for you, Smax will feed you, and this girl named Rebecca at the pet salon is holding a position for you. Don't worry about being too young for a job or working too hard. Nothing is going to get in the way of your studies. I told you I got this.... Well, I got you too.” It was more truthful than she'd ever been.
“Hey!” Mason yelled. “Your bus is pulling in.”
Charly looked at Stormy one more time, then turned to a nodding Lola. “Let's go before you change your mind,” Lola urged. “There's nothing here for you. And you don't have to worry about Stormy or Mason. I'm your eyes and ears, remember?” she asked, grabbing Charly and Stormy by their hands, then running toward the bus.
 
The doors of the bus were open and everyone else had boarded. Charly gave a third round of hugs, sure that she was going to miss everyone and promising to call them along the journey. Stormy dug into her jeans pocket and handed Charly her money.
“I think we should all give her what we have,” she said, looking at Lola and Mason.
Mason nodded. “Me too.”
Charly warmed, happy to see them all so supportive. “Mason already did, but you guys don't have to. Really.”
Stormy shoved the money at Charly. “Take it.” She looked at Lola, who stood there with her arms crossed and her lips poked out. “Lola?”
Lola stomped her foot. “Dag. Charly, I love you like a sister, but I told you I don't share my food or the last of my money.” She paused.
Charly crossed her eyes at Lola. “You don't have to give me your money, Lola. I understand.”
Stormy pushed Lola, and Mason looked at her like she had four heads.
“Okay. Okay. Dag!” Lola said, digging into her purse. She held out her hand to Charly. “Here. But you better pay me back when you get that TV gig.”
Charly opened her palm, and Lola gave her twenty-six cents.
“Really, Lola?” everyone asked in chorus.
Lola rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “I didn't say I had a lot of money. I just said I hate giving away my last. All I had was a quarter and a penny.” She reached into her shirt, moved her fingers around, then took out a piece of fabric. “But here,” she said, handing Charly a handkerchief. “Pin the money to your bra, that way no one can steal it.”
“Lola?” Charly protested.
Lola eyed Charly, then Stormy and Mason added their verbal agreement to Lola's demand. “Okay. Okay,” Charly said, taking the money they'd given her, wrapped it in the handkerchief, then pinned it to her bra. “Better now?”
The bus driver cleared his throat, and Charly knew her time had come. She was on her way to make a new life for herself, and excitement shot through her veins. “Okay,” she said to everyone. “I gotta go. I'll call you when I get to Chicago, then let you know which route I'm taking.”
Charly climbed on board, then took one last look over her shoulder. She would miss Illinois but not enough to stay. “New York, here I come.”

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