Are You There God? It's Me, Charlie

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Chapter 11 - Are You There God? It's Me, Charlie

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The weather in Providence, Rhodes Island was identical to that of Beacon Hills. Add that to the list of bizarre shit about this town. It had to be the single place in all of California that saw chilly weather in early September. She had moved to San Diego with the promise of sun if not surf, and consistent temperatures that rarely, if ever, dropped below seventy degrees. In Beacon Hills she was met with overcast skies, a chilliness that demanded a closet full of cardigans, and misting rains. Wasn't California supposed to be in a damn drought?

How Charlie found herself holed up in the Argents' bathroom, staring at the foggy Rhodes Island night on the screen of her phone, she couldn't quite say. The final bell of her Friday had rung without any definite plans for the evening. Having recused herself from the inevitable disaster that was the bowling date, she had settled into a pair of sweatpants and her green hoodie, heated up some Totino's pizza rolls, and began to watch Donald's soccer game from the previous night before running out on some errands. And then Cyndi Lauper's muffled voice began to serenade her from the depths of her messenger bag. One vaguely threatening conversation about 'friendship duties' later and she found herself in her Impala on her way to Allison's house.

The Argent bathroom was intimidating in its scale. Much like the rest of the house it featured high ceilings and crown moulding, stately to the point of making those unaccustomed to it feel quite small. Throw in the gleaming silver fixtures and a not insubstantial amount of shining granite and it became downright frightening. All surfaces shone brightly as if they had just been wiped down, no water stains on the counter or flecks of rogue toothpaste marking the mirror. Too much glass. Too many breakable things. Too freaking perfect to be lived in. Lydia and Allison were two doors over, methodically assessing and dismissing various outfits, a task for which Charlie was hapless, hopeless, more or less completely useless. Luckily for her, she brought avoidance to an artform. A half hour with them was followed by ten minutes respite in the bathroom, overbearing though the room was. Charlie huddled on the seat of the toilet, knees drawn up to her chest with one arm wrapped around them and the other extended in front of her, phone in hand and watching the end of Donald's soccer game.

The players darted back and forth across the well manicured field, a soccer ball zipping deftly from foot to foot. Charlie squinted at her phone screen in a futile attempt to keep up. The shaking image did little to help her follow the action, wielded as it was by an enthusiastic nine-year-old. Jade had picked up on Donald's love of all things television, and had for some time been the designated Price family camerawoman. While her work was typically top-notch, Donald's games usually left her jumping up and down with brimming excitement. The end result was a number of blue blurs intermingled with yellow blurs that added up to complete chaos. Charlie's head swam with colors until the camera swung widely, providing her with a solid view of the ground.

A loud shriek broke through the already raucous sound of the soccer field and Charlie flinched beneath her headphones, dialing back the volume. "Did you see that?" the giddy voice exclaimed as Jade turned to her mother. Diane and Michael Price's faces flickered into the camera frame for about half a second before it swung back to the field.

"Yeah, I saw that, sweetie," Jade's mother replied, a smile in her voice. "He did good."

"He did AWESOME!" Jade chirped.

The camera snapped to the scoreboard. It stood tall and proud in the dense Rhodes Island fog. Bright lights shone in red as the screen blinked momentarily and the score changed. North Providence High School had taken the lead over the visiting team, three goals to two. Seventeen seconds left in the fourth quarter, and Donald had just scored his second goal of the evening. Ostensibly the winning goal of the game. Loud shouts erupted from the team as they lept up and down, converging into a huddle with Donald at the center.

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