I barely left my room for the next thirty or so hours. With the exception of making one hasty and slightly covert mission to the kitchens to forage for food, my only company had been the television and my cell phone.
Thankfully, and albeit surprisingly, my mother had not come to seek me out after my abrupt and probably rude departure from the library the day before. I wasn't sure if that was because she knew it would only result in a shouting match between us, since I had already made my feelings and thoughts on this sentencing quite clear; or if she, too, was having a difficult time coming to terms with it. She didn't seem to be completely on the side of the judges rule, and yet, did nothing to sway his decision.
I spent the rest of that day laying in my bed, thinking. I thought about everything. So much more thinking than I had done in I don't even know how long. I thought of how I had been before. Quiet, but always angry. I hated going to school, knowing all my 'friends' at the time could go home and do whatever they wanted. They could be normal. Get jobs. Their lives weren't planned for them. I had to come home and have etiquette classes, grooming, lessons on how to be who I was. Such a stupid fucking thing. Learning how to be in my family. That was actually part of my upbringing. No wonder I was so fucked up.
I would see some of my classmates after school, getting picked up by their fathers. They would go to them, hug them, tell them of their day. They had that figure in their lives, at least the majority of them. I wasn't stupid or blind, I knew that wasn't the case for everyone. Just as some of my classmates lost their mothers. But I was still angry at the fact I was missing that part of me. Never knowing who I belonged to.
My mother refused to speak of it. Any time I asked, when I was old enough to know, and brave enough to demand answers, she would simply say 'he was a good man, but it wasn't meant to be'. As if that was any consolation. As if him being 'a good man' made up for the fact he wasn't part of my life. She refused to tell me who he was, which made me wonder if she even knew. She had me young, I knew. Around the time when she was living out her own rebellious ways much like I was currently. Years later, when I asked if she even knew who he was, she blanched, but said nothing. She had no bloody idea, I realized. How many people could she possibly have been with to not even know who my father was? To not even care to find out, if for no other reason than to give me some sense of belonging.
I never forgave her for that. Omitting that part of my life that every girl needed. That I deserved, regardless of the circumstances.
I thought of when I turned sixteen, when everything started to change for me. I had always been 'the pretty one', or 'the popular one'. Mainly attributed to my family, I knew even then. But for some reason, when I turned sixteen, that popularity opened the doors to other side of things I never knew. The parties, the drinking, the drugs. I had to be discrete, I knew, much more so than my fellow classmates. My status made this new life even easier to access, something that my 'friends' at the time relished and exploited. It made me feel powerful, in control, and excited. It gave me something that was mine, something that they couldn't take from me, because they didn't know of it.
Then, when I turned eighteen, I didn't bother hiding it anymore. I was legally an adult, and I did as I pleased. I went to clubs, I drank, I partied. I wasn't overly experimental when it came to drugs. I never went to the hard stuff, knowing that it only took once to lose all control. A little weed here and there, however, I took eagerly. It was a relaxant, and if I needed anything, it was to relax.
And all this seemed to grow, to couple, to increase in magnitude, frequency and size. I didn't even realize it then, until this moment, laying on my bed staring at my ceiling until the light beyond had dimmed to night and my room was bathed in black. I could almost watch the progression of my downfall, my collapse, mainly over the last year.
And it all brought me here. Being nineteen years old, and being appointed a guardian. A fucking babysitter, to control my finances, my activities and my life. There was no duration discussed, so for all I knew, this was going to go on for years. I couldn't even fathom how this stranger was going to come in to my world and control it. Was he going to take my credit cards? Watch my every move? Go with me everywhere? The entire concept was ludicrous to me.
I fell asleep in the late hours of the night, waking earlier than I had in days. And yet, I didn't venture out of my room. I snacked on the few granola bars and items I always had strewn about my room, huddled in my pajamas, my eyes glued to the TV with mild to no interest. I avoided the news stations, of course. The last thing I wanted was to watch how the world viewed me right now. It was bad enough the way my family looked at me the day before, I couldn't stand to have to listen to media and others who had no idea what my life was like passing their own sentences and judgments.
It was shortly after noon when my phone buzzed on my nightstand. It was the first actual form of activity it had made since the accident. I hadnt even remembered its existence until that moment.
"Hello?"
"You're alive," Edens voice called, somewhat relieved, somewhat teasing.
"Marginally,"
"Don't be like that," she snapped. "I was scared out of my mind! Charlie, what the hell happened? Ive been trying to get a hold of you for three freakings days, but your phone was disconnected."
"What?"
"Im serious. Ive been calling. I even called your mom, thinking something was wrong, but she just said it would be up and running again today."
My mind reeled. They had disconnected my cell phone? What the fuck? I didn't know what I was more angry at, the fact they had done it, or the fact I didn't evne know until now.
"Are you okay?" Eden asked, her voice somewhat calmer than when she first called.
"Not really," I admitted.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
And I did. I wasn't sure, at first, if I wanted to even talk about it. Even with Eden, the person I told everything do, I wasn't sure if I wanted to think about it, to remember it and talk about it all. But I did. And it helped, a little. I told her about the benefit, the little girl and the monotony of the niceties. I told her of the club afterwards, of lying to my mother about going home, only to meet up with Tyler and the rest. I told her of how we tricked Ford in to turning his back just long enough for me to escape. Of the drive, of the feeling of freedom, and how everything lost control so quickly.
"You're lucky you weren't killed," she said sternly. "Or that you didn't kill anyone else."
"Im aware of that," I snapped.
"So what now?"
"That's the worst part," I admitted. "Yesterday, I met with a judge here at the house. Apparently, he knows my Grandad, and came as a favor to him, to keep my involvement and sentencing more discrete."
"Sentencing?"
I ignored her and continued. "They wanted to send me to rehab. And apparently the media is even pushing for fucking jail time, to make an example out of me."
"I heard about that," she admitted. "Ive been trying to avoid watching the news, but my sister keeps it on all the damn time. Its so stupid, all the things they are saying."
"I don't want to know what they're saying," I said quickly. "It doesn't matter, anyways. Because Ive already been sentenced."
"You have? To what?"
"That's the crazy part...to a guardian."
Eden was quiet or a long while, absorbing my words.
"What does that even mean?"
"It means, there is a stranger here who will be literally like a babysitter to me for the foreseeable future. He has control over my money, my spending, my activities. If I go somewhere, he goes. If I want to buy something, he has to approve it. I cant do a damn thing without his okay."
"That is," she breathed.
"Insane, I know."
Eden was quiet for a long moment. "I wasn't going to say that,"
"What were you going to say?"
"I was going to say that is reasonable."
I almost dropped the phone in shock. My eyes bulged from my head, and my mouth fell slack.
"What?"
"Don't get pissed," she said hastily. "But think about it, Charlie. Beyond the fact that this is a lot less than rehab or jail, so in my books much better, its also a chance."
"A chance? At what?"
"To change," she said simply. "I know why you act as you do. And I understand it. But I know that's not really you, at the same time. You're running away from the life you don't want, but are bound to. You act out, hoping that eventually they will give up and let you go. But they aren't going to do that. You know they aren't, so why not try and make the best of it?"
"Make the best of it!" I shrieked. "Eden, are you fucking serious? You are my best friend, and you're saying..."
"Im saying, you have no choice in this, so why not at least try and use this second chance rather than push against it!"
"I cant believe you,"
"What do you want me to say, Charlie?" she asked. "That its wrong? That is unfair? That you don't deserve this? I cant do that, because what you did was really fucking stupid. And since you could have ended up in jail, or dead, I think this is a pretty fair settlement. I have no doubt Tyler wont be getting off that easily."
"This isn't about Tyler!" I snapped.
"I know. Its about you not wanting yet another person to tell you what to do. But guess what? LIFE is people telling you what to do. You always say you want my life. To choose your career like me, or your job. But my professors tell me what to do. My boss tells me what to do. I have responsibilities, and things just like you. Maybe not exactly like you, but everyone does. So instead of wanting all the rights with none of the responsibility, maybe you should take this chance to find the medium between, that is life. Real life, Charlie. Because sometimes I think the 'normal life' you have built in your head doesn't even exist. Of sitting in a little flat, reading and going to cafes. When was the last time I got to do that? I don't even know, because Ive been busy with school, and work, and being there for you whenever you needed me."
She paused, almost as thought she could see me shaking my head at her. I couldn't believe she was saying this to me. She was the one person who knew all my secrets, all my dreams, and I felt as though she was throwing them back at me.
"I know you're pissed at me now," she said. "And Im sorry if I upset you further. But Im not sorry for saying all this, because its what Ive been thinking for a while. Ive hated watching you self destruct these last few years, and kept my mouth shut. Well, that didn't do us much good, did it. So, Im going to tell you how it is. And how it is right now, is that you listen to this guy, you do what you have to, and you get your life back. If you want your life back, Charlie, you need to follow some kind of rules. Even a ruler, has rules."
I snorted. "Cliché"
"But true," she said, and I could hear her smile. "Even your Grandad has rules he has to follow. Everyone does. You just need to figure out how to make this situation work."
I sighed, the heaviness in my chest a combination of my situation, and pressure at the words she had thrown at me. All of which I knew to be true, but rejected with everything I was.
"Have you met him?" she asked, breaking me from my wallowing.
"Yeah," I snorted. "Not what I pictured at all."
"How so?"
"Well, for starters, I pictured a bald guy my Grandad's age. But I got a guy in his early twenties with tattoos and long hair."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
She paused for a moment. "Is he cute?"
"Eden,"
"Im serious."
Now it was my turn to pause. I considered Harry in the brief time I allowed myself to look at him. He was tall, lean, and immediately striking. He had a way about him, something that drew you in even if every part of you wanted to hate him. He was all stiff and professional in the meeting, but his eyes...his eyes had been soft. Almost kind.
"Yeah," I finally admitted. "Hes cute."
"Lucky bitch,"
"Focus, please."
"I am focused," she laughed. "I can already see it now. You turning on your Charlotte charm and conning this poor bugger in to letting you away with everything you always got away with."
I felt a flutter in my chest as she spoke, my hand tightening on the phone. My lips slowly curved to a grin, my bottom lip pulling between my teeth.
"Hello?"
"Eden, you're brilliant."
"What? Why?" she asked, before it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh God, no! I didn't mean..."
"Why not?" I asked quickly. "You always tell me I have guys falling at my feet. Why should this guy be any different? I have one thing going for me right now, and that's the fact I was raised, trained and groomed to be charming as fuck if I need to be. All I have to do is be sweet, flirtatious and coy, and if he is like any other male I have ever met, he will fall at my feet."
"Way to sound like a conceited bitch,"
I laughed, shaking my head.
"Not conceited...just tell practiced with a strong track record."