05 . 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 .
"𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃?" Caroline wiggled her shoulders, a smile on her face.
Charlotte dug her fork into her plate, picking food up. She couldn't help but smile a little bit at her grandma's enthusiasm, and she did feel a bit better now in the middle of the day. She was sitting in her usual spot, facing the window, and between Caroline and Daryl who always sat opposite to one another. The sun was bright on her face.
"I guess," she answered, smiling lightly. "I don't really know what to expect."
"Gee, we never got to really talk about it over the summer," Caroline said.
Charlotte swallowed a piece of food, but it felt like it was stuck there for a moment.
"It's not like the movies, that's for sure," Daryl said. "High school is not like the movies." That was his best piece of advice. He poked his fork into the pasta.
Charlotte laughed airily. "So, I shouldn't be banking on High School Musical," she joked, but not really sounding all enthusiastic, although she was trying her best.
Daryl narrowed his eyebrows and looked to Caroline for an answer. She shrugged to him.
"Oh, yeah, you guys don't have a TV." she said, and glanced to the living room where no TV was found, and then looked back down at her plate.
"We did, but someone tinkered with it last year and now we don't," Caroline looked to Daryl reproachfully. "Just like the truck, huh? Tinkering."
He made a face. "It was a CRT television," he said, defending himself.
"Anyways," Caroline switched the topic. "There's not much to know. I bet your friends will get you covered— maybe you'll have classes together, and they'll take you around the school."
The Pogues had definitely told Charlotte about public school, way back in the beginning of summer when she mentioned she'd be attending with them. She knew most of the basics, but still, she didn't know what it would feel like to be in a real school with hundreds of kids her age.
"Kildare High has been here for ages," Daryl commented. "Danny went there for high school."
Charlotte twitched just a little bit at the mention of her father. Danny and Cecile were still somewhere in Europe, filming, completely oblivious to what had happened over the summer.
"Oh my," Caroline sighed, fondly, while placing her chin on her hand. There was a small smile on her lips. "This is crazy, isn't it, Daryl? Going to the same school as your father did."
Charlotte smiled tightly, her lips in a thin line.
"Don't you worry, bug," Caroline tapped Charlotte's arm on the table. "We got your supplies ready in your schoolbag, and I'll help you pick an outfit for tomorrow," she smiled again, this time with genuine excitement.
Charlotte could tell that Caroline really, and genuinely loved having a granddaughter. Caroline took great appreciation when it came to picking outfits and helping with makeup, and she would do it to the end of time if it was possible. Especially because she'd only ever had a boy, and never had the opportunity to have a girl like she'd always wanted.
"Thanks, grandma," Charlotte grinned at her.
"Your friends pickin' you up tomorrow?" Daryl questioned, looking up as he ate.
"I think so," she answered, nodding once.
Then it was quiet, a comfortable quiet as they all ate, and the sun shined through the window. That comfortable quiet lasted for a bit, until it didn't, and the mood slowly shifted. Daryl was looking at his wife, and they were sending silent signals, both knowing what they needed to talk about. Charlotte looked up from her plate.
"So, um," Caroline started, clearing her throat. She wasn't so enthusiastic anymore, but always, she tried to keep a smile on. "There's a few things we need to talk about. Things that are important— that we didn't really discuss yet." Her voice was more serious, but nonetheless delicate.
Charlotte already knew what the next conversation was going to be— she'd heard them talking back in the penthouse on their last day. She swallowed, hard.
"It's about Ward," Daryl spoke.
The name cut like a knife throughout the room. Daryl spoke it with a stern tone, filtered with hatred. Charlotte sort of froze up, from hearing the name after so long, and remembering everything it meant. Everything it meant.
Caroline took in a breath. "We have to set some boundaries, Charlotte," she said, using her full name. "I think you know that. We've figured out a way,"
Charlotte shifted her eyes between both of them.
"We want you to avoid them— the Camerons— as much as you can," Daryl said, she she never heard his sound so concerned before. "Stay as far away as possible. We don't know what could happen if you get close to them. Hell, if they even see you around, we dunno what they'll do."
"I was there on the tarmac," Charlotte said. "And Ward, you know he—"
"He doesn't like people who know too much about the truth." Caroline finished off, saying exactly what Charlotte was thinking. "You need to be careful. Until the cops find more dirt on him— if they ever will— you need to stay out of danger. That means calling us if anything goes wrong, and getting away if they're near." She sighed.
"Away from him, and away from Rafe." Daryl spat out the names.
"What about you guys?" Charlotte asked, concerned and slightly panicked. "What's he gonna do to you guys,"
"We'll pretend like we don't know about it," Caroline answered. "To him, we have no idea what happened on that tarmac, we don't know about Rafe, or what they did to John B."
"But it's obvious," she sat up straighter. "Why would he assume I never told you anything?" her voice rose, fear in it.
"We'll figure out what to do, if that ever happens." Daryl spoke.
She knew that meant leaving again, and this time for good. She leaned her back against the chair, letting out a breath.
"But for now, at least, you stay away from the Camerons, whatever means necessary." Daryl finished. "Got it?"
She nodded, half-distracted.
"It's a small island. But you have to try, bug, you have to." Caroline rubbed her hand on Charlotte's arm. "Who knows what he'll do if you don't."
"You wanna give it a try?" JJ said, lifting the stick and poke pencil into the air.
Charlotte pressed her lips together as her legs swung back and forth at a slow pace, her hands gripped onto the chipped edge of the wooden workbench she was propped up on. Her feet were crossed at the ankles, and her torso leaned forward with her shoulders slightly scrunched. JJ was a few feet away on the other side of the work station, sitting on the scratchy counter with his leg folded up and his bare foot resting on the wood. He held a pencil between his two fingers, a pencil with a tiny needle strapped to the end of it, dipped in ink. They were at the Chateau, in the back shed.
She was still thinking about the conversation she had at lunch with her grandparents. Their words were overplaying in her head and making her heart beat faster than it usually did these days. But for now, she was safe with JJ, and she wasn't worrying as much as she was when she drove to the Chateau on her bike.
He pointed the pencil towards her, his body casual and face neutral. The prickly end pointed at her mindlessly.
"No, thanks," Charlotte said, calmly, her lips forming into a soft smile. "I don't really like needles."
A hum emitted from the back of JJ's throat, and he shrugged. He popped his bottom lip out, showing that he thought her reasoning was fair, as he looked back down at his ankle and moved the needled-pencil down towards his foot again.
"I used to hate em' too," JJ said, focusing on the 'L' on his skin.
"Til' you realized they were your only way of getting a tattoo without parental consent?" Charlotte pulled the corner of her lip up, her eyes looking at him jokingly.
JJ let out a small laugh. "Yeah," he said. "Pretty much."
She laughed a bit too, but it came out airy. It was gone slow, and then it dropped into a silence like how laughs seemed to always do these days. She bit onto the inside of her lip, staring down at the cracks in the wooden floorboards, contemplating for a moment.
"Maybe I'd get one," she said, her voice gentle.
"Get what." JJ asked, through slightly closed lips. His head was slightly tilted back, but his eyes were focused hard on the work he'd done on his foot. He looked at the needle through the bottom of his eyes, his bottom lip slightly tucked in.
"A tattoo," she looked up toward the pencil between his fingers.
"What would you get," although he was concentrated, he still had the calmness in him to keep up with the conversation. Maybe it was just because Charlie was easy to talk to, no matter the situation.
"Nothing cheesy," she answered, laughing lightly. She looked down at her hands, as her thumb rubbed the lines of her opposite palm, now resting in her lap. "Maybe like a little star, or something, you know? Something simple but not cheesy." her voice smoothed out easily.
"That's cheesy, Charlie," JJ said, neutrally. He adjusted his grip on the pencil, leaning down to see it more clearly.
"Yeah but it'd be cute," she defended, putting her arms out and scanning her skin where she imagined placing a tattoo. "Cause stargazing and shit is really cool to me. I dunno, just a thought."
She winced a bit when she remembered the only time she's stargazed, back in the middle of summer on the docks of the Chateau. She couldn't really stargaze from her place in New York, because the sky was overcrowded with too much light pollution— and she knew it wouldn't be the same even before she tried.
"I could try a star," JJ said, squinting his eyes at the ink on his skin.
She looked over at the 'P4L' tattoo engraved on his foot, placing her hands along the rim of the crowded workbench to lean forward. After a second, JJ looked up to her, still hovering the pencil over his foot.
"What?" he said, wondering why she hadn't said anything or let her facial expression change.
"I'd only let you tattoo me in permanent marker." she stated, returning to her original seating position.
JJ scoffed.
"I'd gladly let you write pogues for life on my ankle," she smiled softly, swinging her legs back and forth at a slow pace again. "Do you have a sharpie?"
"No, Charlie, I don't have a sharpie," he said.
"Maybe another time." she popped her bottom lip out. "I'll think about the real thing, alright? Shit, what would my grandparents say if I really got a stick and poke."
"Judging by how much shit they've been okay with this whole summer," he tilted his head to the side, as he examined his work closely. "I think they'd be fine with it."
Charlotte looked down at her feet and stopped swinging her legs. Her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth, and she bit down hard as her mind scrambled with thoughts— all while JJ touched up the edges of his tattoo and wiped his ankle off. She then stared at the ground, thinking, her eyes mindlessly following the ridges of the wooden planks of the floor, and around the swirls and whimsical lines. She felt this sort of pang in her chest, and her palms now felt heavy, as if they were weighing her down.
She folded her hand over the other, resting them on her lap. A few minutes had gone by— where JJ was cleaning up his area and she was just thinking. They were just existing in the peaceful silence that seemed to always circulate between them— no matter how troubled the things around them were, they were always able to keep a stable and comfortable silence where they didn't really have to talk to know what the other was feeling. It was like that now, just quiet.
"I never really thanked you." Charlotte begun, her voice coming out slow and hard— like this new topic was an emotional one. "You know."
"What do you mean," he asked, still with his back turned to her. He was cleaning the needle with a rag.
She cleared her throat, and sort of stifled out the next words. "I never really thanked you for helping me," she said, her eyes focused on her hands folded together. "I dunno why I'm just saying this now, but I was thinking about it the whole time I was gone."
JJ stopped what he was doing, slowly putting down the pencil. He didn't turn around, but he was beginning to listen.
"Maybe it's cause everything happened so fast, but um," she dug her thumb into her palm, trying to keep her voice level. "I've been wanting to thank you for keeping the stupid secret, or whatever, and just— I know you didn't have to. But you did. So, thanks."
She'd never really had to apologize to someone before, and so her words sort of came out in an awkward manner, but nonetheless heartfelt.
He turned around, his eyes on the rag in his hands.
"Nah, I'm sorry for being a dick about it a few times," he admitted, wrapping the rag around his hand as if it were a bandage. "It was my fault everything spilled out—"
"But you had your own things going on." she said, shifting her eyes up to look at him. "And you still helped me, all the time. I don't care if you messed up, cause I did too, y'know."
"We all messed up pretty bad, huh," he chuckled softly, still concentrated on raveling and unraveling the cloth rag around his hand.
"Thank you, JJ," she said, seriously. She was looking at him, now.
All he did was smile— which was JJ's way of acknowledging someone's thanks without actually having to admit his actions created a meaningful impact, and everyone knew that about him. He didn't have to say anything, and they didn't have to hug. It was just something that could be digested with a smile and silence this time around.
There was a minute or two of just sitting in the comfortable silence and feeling all the emotions, where JJ cleaned the needle with the rag, and Charlotte looked around on her hands for other possible places she could put a tattoo one day. They were both thinking to themselves, but together.
"I miss him." she said, not much higher than a whisper. Her voice cracked a bit. "So much."
JJ's face softened. "I know. We all do, Charlie."
"You've seen them around, right?" Charlotte asked, her voice soft against the heavy quietness. "The Camerons?" she sniffled, not letting any tears fall.
JJ shifted his mouth uncomfortably, "Yeah. Of course," he said, with growing hints of anger in his tone.
"Does it make you sick," she asked, looking at her hands. "Seeing them around— just acting like they're innocent? After all that shit they did to him." there was a certain hatred in her voice. "After everything they did to him." then, her voice softened with those last words.
It was evident that her hatred had conjured up more over the day, ever since the talk at lunch.
"It makes me more angry than sick," he said, frankly, putting down the needle and the rag behind him on the countertop. "What about Sarah? They sent her away, right?"
"Yeah, boarding school on the main land," Charlie said, her voice sadder. "Did she tell you guys?"
"Nope," JJ turned around, leaning his lower back against the counter. "We didn't see her for the rest of the summer til' she left last week. But shit gets around, so." He shrugged.
Charlotte was back to biting the inside of her bottom lip, thinking hard again. She shifted in her spot.
"JJ, I have to tell you something," she didn't really think all that much before the words tumbled from her lips. It was her fault they were on the subject of the Camerons, and now it was her fault that she just couldn't keep it in. It was scratching at her throat. She was also still shaken up by the conversation she'd had about them with her grandparents.
"Yeah, of course, what is it," he asked, looking at her as he crossed his arms.
"It's about Sarah," Charlotte cleared her throat, pausing for a moment. "I wanted to tell you guys sooner but it just wasn't safe and I kn—"
Her phone began to ring, suddenly vibrating in her back pocket. It cut off her sentence and caused her to reach behind and grab it, bringing it into her view. JJ watched, curious at what she was about to tell him before the interruption.
"It's my grandma," Charlotte said, her eyebrows narrowing slightly.
JJ chuckled ever so lightly, as she pressed the green button. "What's up with Caroline."
"Grandma?" Charlotte answered the phone, pressing it against her ear. "Hi,"
"Hey, bug," Caroline's voice eased through the line, warm and happy.
"Hey, what are you calling for," Charlotte asked, kindly.
She glanced to JJ for a second, as he turned around and worked on putting the materials away in the bag lying on the counter.
"When are you comin' home?" Caroline questioned, casually.
"Uh," she looked to JJ, who could hear Caroline over the phone— old people always talk loud on the phone. He turned to her, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Soon, I guess. Why,"
"We're makin' your favorite lasagna, y'know the one we ordered last month from Jerry's? Oh you just loved that, remember? He gave me the recipe an' Daryl thought he'd give it a try, it's in the oven now," she explained, laughing.
"Really?" Charlotte's face lit up, and her back sort of straightened from being slouched. "Okay, I'll be home soon," a small smile was on her lips. "See you,"
"See ya, bug," Caroline laughed, and then hung up.
"You coming over?" Charlotte asked JJ, as her phone fell into her lap. "It really is good lasagna."
JJ scrunched his lips up for a second. "Nah, I got a shift down at the club tonight, remember?" he said, annoyed at the mention of his job.
"Oh yeah, I forgot," she nodded, hopping off the workbench.
"Yeah," he nodded too. "I can go over tomorrow after school though— maybe Kie and Pope'll come," he said, shrugging. "Y'all keep leftovers?"
"Only for you," she joked a bit, reaching forward and extending her hand.
He did the same, and they did a short version of the Pogue handshake quickly. She turned away, heading for the screen door of the work shed.
"I'll text you guys later, okay," She said, glancing back as she stepped onto the grass. Her hand was on the doorframe when she walked by. "Don't have fun at work."
"See you tomorrow," he signed her off.
And then she was walking through the grass, passing the docks, under the sun.
She stopped at the big tree. She smiled at it, pictured him standing there like she always did, and breathed out slowly. She turned away for her bike.
It was less than twenty-four hours until her first day of school and a message that would change their entire trajectory in the blink of an eye.