Someone Like Me

Chapter Thirty-Five: Charlie Is The Number One Best Friend...

"What's going on? Was it something with Dalton? I swear, if that little fucker hurt you, I'm going to hurt him. What happened?" It sound like he was getting up because he grunted quietly.

"It's not Dalton," It was hard to speak. It felt like my throat was missing, "He's working and I just need someone right now."

"Hey," His voice was soft. "Where are you? Are you in your truck? I can hear it."

"Yeah," I answered. "Please Charlie, I need to see you."

"Alright Darling," His voice seemed to melt at how soft and caring it sounded. It actually made me relax a little from the situation. "Come over," He gave me directions to where he lived. I had to turn around and head in the other direction to where he lived. The city was behind me and soon enough there wasn't any neighborhoods. It felt weird being outside the city limits. The drive was over a half hour until I finally found the road that Charlie told me to turn on. It was a dirt road. My worries seem to disappear and fill with confusion, for just a moment as I looked around. Charlie's home was somewhere weird. He was a distance off from anything and the road was tiny. I couldn't imagine his truck being on it. Was I going to right way? Did I get lost?

No, I saw a small little house behind the tree line. The mail box was red just like he mentioned and there was his truck in the driveway. This was something I didn't expect out of Charlie. The house looked to be one floor. It was grey with black shutters with a well-kept garden all around it. I could see a shed matching the home off in the distance.

How the hell was this Charlie? I was expecting some big home where he lived with his family. Or some bachelor pad in the middle of the city. But it looked like he lived alone out in the middle of nowhere, in a small, but cozy looking home.

I parked my truck behind his. Everything seemed to flood back into my as I turned off my truck and tears started to flow again. I whipped my cheeks trying to stop myself from crying but that didn't help. It just made me cry more. My eyes were becoming sore, red, and puffy from me rubbing my eyes so much.

What was wrong with me?

Maybe my mother was right. Maybe I'm not good enough for Dalton. Not only am I not pretty enough but I'm not strong enough. I couldn't even let him tell people who I was because I was scared. Which made me look weak.

But, I wanted to protect myself from the cameras.

Still though, I couldn't even help Dalton as he tried to protect me from the rumors and drama that spread. I stood emotionless during Peaches's interview with Amina and listen to her ruin Dalton's career and dis me. I couldn't even stand up for myself against her. I could have just walked out there during the interview and revealed who I was myself, even if I get in trouble of whatever could happen if I walked out.

I couldn't even stand up against my mother this morning. I just left looking for some form of comfort.

But my mother insulted me, I had a right to leave.

Though, I cried. I cried like a little baby. I couldn't even suck it up and try to ignore my mother's insults. Why couldn't I be the mature one in the situation and just ignore my mother then go on with my day like it was any other day. I've dealt with Peaches always calling me names and being mean.

But she was my mother. Your mother isn't supposed to say those things to their child!

Stop! Stop! I had every right to leave and I shouldn't be calling myself weak because of it. I needed to leave. How could I deal with such a person? How could I deal with my mother and sister all these years? They've always been stepping over me and making me feel like nothing because of their success.

There was a knock against the window that made me jump. There was fear in my eyes though that diminished when I saw it was Charlie. He looked at me with concern and uneasiness. Anyone could tell that he didn't like seeing me this way. I opened my door, wiped my eyes, and then stepped out of my truck.

His warm arms wrapped around me once my feet were on the ground. I could feel his bare chest under my fingers and I eased into his welcoming hug. His heart beat steady and his breathing was deep and slow. He rested his chin on top of my head while my arms snaked around him loosely.

"Dalton didn't do anything?" He asked again.

"No," I spoke into his chest. My voice was hoarse.

"Who made you upset?"

I couldn't speak. For some reason I was too scared to tell Charlie that it was my mother. I was scared on what he could possibly do to her. If he did something to hurt her or even Peaches then he would regret it. My mother had the best lawyers I have seen. It was almost impossible to get out of anything with her. I just couldn't tell him though. I didn't want him to hurt my mother.

Are you serious? Are you really protecting that person? She's insulted you, She made you live in Peaches's shadow, she's made you live on your own, she's done nothing to give you attention. It's always been about Peaches to her and now you don't want to tell Charlie what goes on because you're afraid that he will hurt her?!

Stop! Why was I being like this? Why couldn't I just make up my mind?

"Darling?" Charlie's voice broke. "Darling, please, stop crying. Please talk to me. I want to help and if you don't tell me what's going on than I can't help you. Please Darling."

"I—I..." I don't know what to say. I don't know what to speak. Could I speak? How could I speak? Stop crying damn it! I'm so sick of the crying! Why couldn't I just suck it up and deal with the shit thrown at me instead of just crying and looking for comfort!?

He picked me up in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I watched through blurry eyes as he closed my truck door with his bare foot. I watched as it moved farther away with each step that he took.

"Darling, talk to me. It's hurting me," Charlie spoke again while bringing me through his front door. I listened to it close behind us as he kept moving. His bare feet pattered against the flooring. "Cherry?"

That was the first time I have ever heard him speak my name.

"Please, talk."

"My—my mom insulted me," I didn't want to go into detail.

"Oh," It came out airy as he sat me on a dark chocolate colored couch. I sunk into it and I felt a fuzzy, warm blanket land on my lap. I looked down to see that it was beige and matched the coffee table in front of me. I curled my toes to feel a shaggy carpet. The couch sunk in next to me. "She's never done that, hasn't she?" He realized why I would be upset about it.

I shook my head.