Page 12 of When You Smile

“Which room is hers?” Charlie asked, pulling her along.

“412,” Gray said, proving he knew his charges.

Taryn widened her eyes. “Color me impressed, RA Gray.”

“I can take it from here,” Gray said. He was so tall. Unnecessarily so. Who authorized that?

“Nope. All mine,” Charlie said, and something about that statement made Taryn warm and happy and okay with Charlie manhandling her. In fact, she’d welcome more of those hands on her body, anywhere Charlie wanted them. She let them inside after three failed attempts to unlock the door and walked straight through the sitting area to her room and found her bed.

“Oh, this is good. Hello, bed. If the ceiling wouldn’t spin, it would be even better.” She heard a noise in the living room. “Charlie, are you rifling through my fridge right now?”

“Yes, I am.” A moment later, Charlie appeared with a bottle of water in each hand. “I want you to drink one now and leave the other one next to your bed. You’re going to wake up with a dry mouth. It’s the worst. Grab one of these and take at least four swallows.”

While the fact that she had to be chaperoned home was embarrassing, Taryn had a soft spot for Charlie’s bedside manner. “You got prettier.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked, removing the cap from one of the waters so it was ready to go.

“You were the prettiest girl in town back home. But you’re prettier now. My thoughts are just talking. Are they allowed to do that out loud?”

“Great question.” Charlie paused, bottle still in her hand. “But that’s sweet of you, Taryn.”

Taryn shrugged. “Just drunk honesty. Cue the regrets.”

“Why would you regret honesty, especially if it’s kind?”

“And it’s because you’re too smart and gorgeous and sophisticated to hang out with me, and I’m over here gushing.”

“You told me I’m pretty. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They exchanged a smile and held it. Taryn felt that moment all the way down to her toes, which she now curled. “I’m so out of my league.”

“Your league?” Charlie frowned. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. We’ve always hung out just fine. You think you’re going to be okay?” She slid a strand of Taryn’s hair behind her ear softly and stood up. Taryn wanted her to do that again.

“Ima be just fine,” she told Charlie. Though she had a feeling she was only getting drunker. “Did you know this whole time you were friends with Gray?”

“Shocking, but yes.”

“I mean that he’s the RA guy here and loves chips.”

“I knew that, too.” A quiet laugh. Taryn smiled at the sound. “Good night, Taryn. Drink that water. I put my number in your phone in case you need anything. Gray is just down the hall, too.”

“You’re so nice. A good walk tonight. And quilts. We both like those. So, thank you.”

Another quiet laugh. “No problem. Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut, and Taryn exhaled. She closed her eyes, but the spinning room let her know that was not in her best interest. Nope. Instead, she lay there and replayed as much of her conversation with Charlie as she possibly could. Charlie. Right here. So exciting and surreal. There really was no one like her, and she was everything Taryn remembered about her at a minimum. But with both of them now grown, would their dynamic be different? She wondered if they’d be friends, then laughed that right the hell off. Charlie was a grad student who’d just done Taryn a favor. End of story. Close the book. Pay the check. It’s not like they were gonna hang out.

As her stomach roiled, she played music from her phone and tossed a hand over her head, escaping into the angsty sounds of her Chill the Fuck Out playlist until the world finally slowed down. It had to have been a couple hours later when Caz woke her up. She and Sasha flipped on the light in the living room, laughing and shushing each other as they attempted to eat what had to be an entire bag of excessively crunchy chips. Feeling better after the passage of time and two bottles of water, Taryn grinned at their giggles, curious about all they’d seen and done. She’d find out tomorrow. That was the great thing about this place, her new home.

Chapter Three

“But it’s the metaphor of the little boy that I’m struggling with,” Danny said across the conference table from Charlie. Their handful of classmates looked on, nodding as if he’d made the most notable point. Lawson scribbled a note onto his pad. Their critique session was entering tense territory, and Charlie had to remind herself to remain calm in the face of her classmates’ criticism of her short story, especially since she was incredibly proud of it. But that’s what grad school did, tore you down so you could learn and be better for it. As much as it hurt, she wanted to be the best writer she could possibly be, and that meant listening to the advice of other writers who perhaps could see what she could not.

“What has you struggling, exactly?” she asked, attempting to remain detached. Her blood pressure was up, however, and she could feel a hint of sweat bead at the back of her neck. Every little sound in the room seemed amplified right down to Lawson tapping his pencil on the table two seats down. She wanted to break it but exhaled instead.

“The wildfire that takes over the city one building at a time is representative of the little boy’s passion and creativity that we see spark until it takes off.”

“Right. I’m with you.” She nodded.

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