Now
"The thing I like about makeup is that you can entirely change your appearance. It's like, who's this person? Why are they wearing glitter all over their face? It can upgrade your look from two hours of sleep to elusive sex icon." Allison's words float through my mind, her soothing voice a comforting sound.
If I'm ever rich I'm going to make sure I buy a house or rent an apartment with central air conditioning. The inside of Allison's room is the perfect crisp temperature, a reprieve from the stifling humidity outside. My fan in my window gets nowhere close to cooling off my room in the way the brand new air conditioning system at Alison's house lowers the temperature to something bearable.
"Look, Lucas." Allison sounds delighted. "Isn't Charlie the most handsome boy you've ever seen?"
I'm sitting on the floor of her bedroom and leaning against her bed, magazines scattered around me. Coming over to her house with Charlie was the best idea in the world because she gave me a box of old Vogue and Seventeen magazines to use for collages. I've been lost in my own world, viciously cutting out model's appendages and Chanel bags.
I glance up from where I've been contemplating a picture of some celebrity's newborn baby, trying to decide if it has a place in the art piece I've been planning out. Charlie looks at me, a sheepish expression on his face. He's sitting on Allison's bed cross-legged, and she has been kneeling in front of him, applying makeup for the past half an hour.
"Whoa." I grin. "That's a lot of sparkle."
"I'm going for a heroin chic look," she explains. "Heroin chic meets male Vegas stripper."
"You have to let me see," Charlie complains, trying not to seem like he's enjoying every second of her attention. "You almost stabbed me in the eye with eyeliner, and for what?"
I can tell he's been thriving ever since we came over; he eagerly followed Allison into her closet where she showed off her eclectic wardrobe, oohed and ahhed her makeup collection to make her happy, and then didn't need any coaxing when she asked to do his makeup.
Despite our not knowing her for more than a month, she's already seemed to have us figured out. She supplied me with ample distraction by giving me magazines, and then gave Charlie the exact attention I knew he secretly wanted.
"I'm almost done," she promises him.
"You look good," I reassure him. "Don't worry, she didn't do you dirty. I'm going to have to beat the other boys off of you."
"Boys?" He laughs. "There are no boys around here, Lucas. Allison, good luck finding a man around here. I've snatched up the only decent one. Everyone else is only good for their dick."
Her laugh sounds like a spring breeze; it's refreshing and light. "I'll probably wait until college to get myself a boy. I don't plan on finding my soulmate in the countryside unless there's some sexy farmer that wants to sweep me off my feet."
Allison has Charlie's hair pinned off his forehead with plastic butterfly hair-clips, and has liberally applied different shades of blue and purple to his eyelids. His eyes are still on me as she swatches a thick bristle brush with bronzer, going in to brush it over the edge of his cheekbone without warning. What happens isn't her fault, she doesn't know.
He recoils from the sudden unseen contact.
"Oh!" She drops the brush and powder falls onto her lavender comforter. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologies, picking up the brush. "I moved in on you fast." She smooths over the situation, trying to seem casual. There's confusion blooming behind her eyes, despite the gentle smile on her lips. "Just let me know when you're ready."
"Sorry." His cheeks are flush with embarrassment. "I'm a jumpy person."
"No worries," she says easily. "A little bronzer, some setting spray, and you'll be finished."
Without thinking, my hand reaches up to find his and our fingers twist together. The three of us remain connected in small ways while she finishes his makeup, my hand in his and her fingers angling his face. I can't remember ever feeling this close to two people this quickly before, my friendship with them running deep and forming something substantial in such a short amount of time.
It's almost as if Allison and I have the same goal: be nice to Charlie and try to keep him from getting eaten alive by the world.
For his sake, we pretend that he didn't flinch. Allison isn't an obvious or obnoxious person, she never points out things about Charlie that other people might rudely comment on. When we first arrived here today, she offered him a short-sleeved top to wear instead of his long sleeves, and didn't press the matter when he politely said "No thanks". Instead of pointing out his shyness, she coaxed him into becoming comfortable by offering him conversations about things he enjoyed.
"You boys should go to school in New York."
"Huh?" I come crashing back down to earth from my faraway thoughts.
"Well, Charlie could go to The Fashion Institute of Technology. The school is directly in the heart of the fashion district. There are tons of internship opportunities there, he could work for a fashion house." She swoops the bronzer over his cheeks. "And Lucas, what exactly did you want to go for again?"
"I want to be an art teacher." I like being able to say that out loud in the safety of her room. Neither Allison nor Charlie think my major is sissy or deemed to fail me in the future.
"Right!" She smiles brightly. "There's amazing art schools in New York. Charlie belongs in the city."
"You think?" He asks. "I've never been to the city, the farthest I've gone away from here is Utah."
He only went to Utah to go to conversion therapy. I don't want to know what Allison would think about this fact. She would probably think his parents are barbarians, which they may well be. Things are different here than they are from where she grew up; we aren't as progressive.
"Absolutely," she says gleefully. "Let's all go to the city before school starts again! We can take the train. It'll only take four hours or so."
"We should go, Charlie." I squeeze his hand. "It's like Portland on crack."
"Okay." He smiles widely. "Sure, let's go check out some school campuses. Maybe we can pool our money and get a hotel for a night."
"Fabulous," Allison says. "You can meet some of my friends." She leans back and scrutinizes Charlie's face. "I think you're done, my dear."
"Beautiful work on a beautiful person." I rest my chin on my hand.
"You guys are too cute." She holds up a hand mirror in front of his face. "What do you think?"
"Wow." He breaks into a huge smile. "You did a great job, Allison. You're very talented."
"Please." She preens under his compliments. "It's all about having a pretty model."
The inside of Allison's room feels as comfortable as a nest. She has a million pillows on her bed, her rug is a fluffy pink knit, and there's clothing strewn across the room. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a girlhood lived out to its fullest. Everything is unapologetically feminine, from the tubes of lipgloss sitting on her white vanity to the fashion magazines stacked before me. The cool air circulating in her room smells like vanilla, flowers, and the Doritos we've been eating.
"Let's go on the porch and watch the sun set," she suggests cheerfully. "We can drink lemonade and play UNO."
"I haven't played UNO since middle school," I say.
"Well, you're missing out." She unfolds her legs and hops off the bed.
The condensation from my iced glass of lemonade makes my hand slick as I sit on the porch, forming a circle with the two of them. The wind causes the pine trees to shake, thin pine needles scattering with every gust. As Allison deals the cards I feel a sense of peace and contentment. Here on her porch things are still, the only noise is the occasional car that drives through our cul-de-sac and the wind in the pines.
The space between our bodies feels safe, all of our knees close to touching and our smiles earnest.
"Oh." Charlie's eyes go to the road, following a stooped figure. "It's Mrs. Copper and her dog. I'm going to go say hi super quick while you deal. I need to see if she needs me to walk him this weekend."
Mrs. Copper is an elderly woman who lives alone on the end of my street and has this ancient corgi that she hires Charlie to walk in the morning before school. He loves animals so much that he would have done it for free, but she gives him five dollars for every walk. He always spends the five bucks he earns on iced coffee. I think she goes to his church, which is how he ended up getting the job.
"Alright," me and Allison say in unison.
"Be right back," he promises. "Don't look at my cards!"
"Lucas," Allison speaks in a low voice despite the fact that Charlie is already almost to the end of her driveway. "Is Charlie going to your house after you both leave?"
"I don't know." I'm surprised by the serious tone of her voice, after a whole evening of her laughter and jokes. "Probably."
She worries her lower lip with her front teeth. "Maybe have him wash off his makeup before he goes home." She looks sad, and I'm astounded by the empathy she's collected for someone she has only known for roughly a month. "I'm sure you can think of an excuse, right? I wasn't really thinking when I did it, I don't want to cause any trouble for him at home."
I know she doesn't know anything about his home life. It was because of the way she covered for him at the deli by lying to his father, and the way he flinched today that she knows. Maybe it's his refusal to wear short sleeves that have also given her an idea of what he is facing when he isn't with us.
"Sure," I say softly. "Thanks, Allison."
"I'm back!" Charlie sits down and picks up his lemonade, then wrinkles his nose. "Oh, gross. A little ladybug flew in here."
"I can get you more." Allison puts down her hand of cards. "I have a whole jug."
"Nah," he says flippantly, waving her away. "I'll pick it out. It's itty bitty. Look, she's still alive!" He laughs with delight. "I'm going to let her go on your porch. Hopefully, she dries out in the sun and can fly again."
"I'm sure the ladybug will be fine," Allison laughs.
"Are you walking the dog this weekend?" I ask, watching as the sun catches in the glitter that Allison had dotted underneath his eyes.
"Yeah." He picks up his cards and begins to organize them by color. "That dog is fucking spoiled. Sometimes I wish I was reincarnated as a dog instead of a human. It'd be really easy. All you do is get fed, go on walks, and have people pet you."
Sometimes Charlie says nonchalant things that I find to be more disturbing than anything I've ever heard anyone say before. His plush lips spill both sweetness and poison. I know he doesn't think anything of the things he says or realize how much it affects me, like when he said I was his first kiss.
My stomach twists, causing nausea to ball up in my throat. Cayden's words from when I was tripping in his basement resound in my head. I try to push away the thought of Charlie as a child, refusing to communicate with human words and instead barking.
Despite trying to focus on the game in front of me, all I can think about is him smashing his head against his locker, instead of talking it out with the other kid like a normal child would. Something happened to make him act like that. What if what Benji told me wasn't a lie, and that someone hurting Charlie caused him to have those behavioral issues?
I haven't really been sleeping much lately.
Allison laughs. "Me too. If I was reincarnated as one of the miniature dogs in Manhattan, I wouldn't need to do anything. People push them around in strollers and buy them designer booties. They even feed them gourmet dog food!"
"Living the luxurious life." Charlie plays a yellow card, then looks at me in concern when I forget to take my turn. "You good, Lucas?"
"Yeah, of course." I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. "I was zoning out. Draw four." I play a wild card and do my best to smile as if I wasn't thinking about anything troubling at all. "Your turn, Allison."
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Author's note: hey guys! This is really the last mellow chapter, now things will be coming to the climax of my story. Thanks all who have followed along and so generously voted and commented! You all know who you are <3
Out of curiosity, what country is everyone from?