Page 18 of Spiteful Lies

Chapter 15

Astrid

Thanksgiving isn’t my favorite holiday for many apparent reasons. Every year, we’d get a free chicken from a local charity funded by a Catholic church we never went to. The chicken was cheaper than a turkey, I guess. So, I’d stand in our tiny kitchen, staring at that fucking raw yellow bird and hating the extra work I had to do. One year could they have delivered a bucket of fried chicken?

But I don’t have to worry about it this year. I don’t have any plans for the week off, and I’m ecstatic as I pull my duvet over my head. A minute of peace is a luxury these days, and it’s harder to obtain than cold cash.

I reach my hand out from underneath my covers and grab my chiming phone. I tried to ignore it, but the damn thing keeps going off. I want to pitch it across the room, but then I’d have to replace it. Finally, I have to get up when someone starts tapping on the door.

“What?” I swing it open, and Charlotte’s on the other side. She’s wrapped in her comforter like a taco, wearing her peach pajamas, and her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. It takes a minute for it to register that she’s standing outside my room. I usually go to hers.

“Is your roommate here?” she whispers, “I thought she left.”

I stand aside, grab her arm, pull her inside, and then shut the door. So Roni is the reason why Charlotte never comes to my room. Makes sense now, but what about before when Terri wasn’t a problem?

“She went home for the week. You know, turkey and shit.” My voice is groggy. “Why don’t you lie down in my bed, and I’ll lie down on hers.”

Charlotte smiles and leaps into my bed after I grab my duvet off it. She snuggles down into the covers with her face peeking out, and for a moment, I stare at her, wondering what’s going to happen to her. For now, she can hang with me. I used to take care of Mom, and now, I’ll look after Charlotte.

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” she asks, opening her eyes again.

I toss myself into Roni’s bed and pull my covers to my chin. “Nope, my mom’s back at the apartment, but we don’t have plans for Thursday together.” I stare at Charlotte, finally realizing why she’s really here. “Where are you going for Thanksgiving?”

“Dr. Rawlins invited me to her home for the day. I said yes. I don’t want to stay here.”

“That’s good.” My voice is flat as I feel a pinch of guilt. “Did she talk to you about anything else?”

Charlotte yawns and rolls over onto her back. “No, she asked me how I was doing, and we talked about Howland. Did you tell her to talk to me?”

No point in lying. “Yeah, but I didn’t say why. I’m really worried about you, Charlotte. I’m used to having shit to deal with, but you’re not.”

“My life is not as charmed as you may think. I have secrets, but I won’t tell.”

“I didn’t tell her anything she couldn’t have figured out.”

“Astrid, I appreciate you looking out for me. And I’m not upset that you said something to Rawlins. I might tell her, but I don’t know.” Charlotte reaches for my phone when it chimes again. “You use a lock screen? That’s smart.”

I yank myself out of Roni’s warm bed and rush across the chilly floor. I climb into bed with Charlotte, snuggling against her under the covers, and slip my phone quickly out of her hands. “Let’s see who’s looking for me.”

Charlotte stares at the screen as I read my messages. “Bryce wants you to meet his parents.” She laughs. “Good luck. They are the worst snobs. They didn’t like me because I wasn’t a true blue blood.” She pauses. “Sorry, I’m not trying to freak you out.”

“I’m not going then.” I read Wyatt’s message, inviting me to meet his mother. I’ve been curious about her since the day I saw her picture in his room. “Maybe I’ll hang out with Wyatt instead.”

“He’s your favorite, isn’t he?” She giggles.

“Why do you say that?” I scroll to the next message from Pierce. His parents want to meet me. Fuck.

“Because the two of you look like twins,” she replies. “People often marry people that resemble them. It’s like looking in a mirror. But I guess that means you’re both narcissistic.”

I suck my teeth. “That’s not true, and why are you mentioning marriage?”

“You’ll have to pick one to marry,” she replies, “This may be a good way to decide. Meet the parents and base your decision on that.” Charlotte stares hard at my screen. “No message from Justin? He has it hard now. His father is a sex piranha.”

I shiver but clamp it down. “What if I can’t decide? Do I have to?”

“I suppose you could wait until you meet someone in college,” she replies, “That’s what I’m going to do. I mean, I was going to do that.”

I put my phone down on the floor and shove it under the bed. “I’m sorry. You have real problems, and I’m sweating over boys.”

---