Page 25 of When You Smile

“In fact,” Taryn continued, “I’m feeling like a special person right now because you did share that memory with me when you didn’t have to. You trusted me, and I want to say thank you for that.”

Charlie blinked. That was certainly new. She was used to making other people uncomfortable whenever she mentioned anything too real from life with her dad. Certainly, no one had thanked her before. “You’re welcome seems like a strange thing to say back.”

“Honestly, you can say whatever you want, and I’ll listen.” Taryn took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ve been told I do that kind of thing well.”

Charlie looked down at their hands and pulled her gaze back to Taryn’s captivating brown eyes. “I’ve always thought you had the prettiest eyes. They seem lighter these days. Little flecks of gold within the brown.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Charlie forgot herself in their connection, and wow, Taryn excelled at eye contact. The world felt hazy, slow, and off balance in its wake. The edges of her vision faded. In a strange turn, it seemed like they were the only two people in that mall in spite of the crowds moving busily around them. An oasis if she’d ever found one. Finally, she blinked, looked down, and offered a slight smile, honesty bleeding straight through. “I feel like I know you better than I do. Isn’t that weird?”

“Well, you do. We have true history, ya know. You were instrumental in my youth. Probably a lot more than you realize.” Taryn seemed to be leaving the details out, but this felt like a confession of her own. Maybe it was just that kind of evening for them.

“You mentioned that at the coffee house. Why is that? Because I gave you lemonade slushies and middle school advice?” It was hard to equate this put-together human with the eleven-year-old from back then. In actuality, both versions were mature for their age, now that she thought about it. Taryn had always been both wise and kind. That hadn’t changed.

“No, because you gave me someone to look up to, who also made me feel special and seen. I thought you were just about the best thing since I discovered Sour Patch Kids at six years old.”

“First comparison I’ve ever had to those things. What a day.”

“That’s odd. I compare them to everything.” She regrouped. “But the truth is, I was thrilled every single time I heard you were coming over. Charlotte Adler was cooler than cool, which is why it was such a blow when you moved away so unexpectedly.”

Charlie sat with that information for a moment because she’d honestly had no idea. Realizing that she’d had a larger impact than she’d understood relaxed something in her chest. She was both moved and slanted with regret. “I’m so sorry. I would have stayed in touch if I’d known. You must have thought I didn’t care, and I promise you, I did.”

“Stop. Your life was much bigger than mine back then. Popular, pretty, and good at everything. All my friends wanted to be you. Guys were obsessed with you.” Taryn turned to her more fully, energized, and with a smile. “They used to stalk your lifeguard chair. Were you aware of this?”

“Maybe some did.” Charlie had relished her social world in high school. It was true. She’d had friends, a job, and all of it had served as a nice escape from the homelife that kept her on the edge of most any chair. “Everything probably looked perfect. I get that.” She tilted her head thoughtfully as a toddler raced ahead of his mother, pointing at the mall’s Halloween display. “But I think that just goes to show that all that glisters is not gold.”

“Quoting Shakespeare. A true writer.”

Charlie turned in surprise. “I’m impressed. You knew the quote that quickly?”

Taryn beamed and shrugged. “I like his stuff. We read R and J in high school, but I picked up a few more after.”

“Oh, just a little light reading for a high schooler.” She shook her head. Taryn continued to offer up surprises. She was this really interesting onion with layer upon layer waiting to be discovered.

“You’re maybe one of the only people I know who thinks I’m awesome for reading plays.”

She nudged Taryn’s shoulder with her own. “Good thing I’m the one sitting next to you, then.”

“Speaking of writing, I loved your story. I devoured it that night and then read it a few more times.”

Charlie went still. “You did? I hope it wasn’t out of some sense of obligation to make me feel better after I confessed what happened in my class.”

“I wish I was someone who responded to overhanging obligation. Maybe then I wouldn’t procrastinate so much. My grades would be much higher if I subscribed to have to. Which means, in your case, I wanted to.”

“I feel better, then.” Charlie would have loved to have been cavalier about Taryn’s thoughts on her story, but her heart overruled her. “You don’t have to be polite about your impressions. I have a pretty thick skin these days.”

“But here’s the thing. I was truly enraptured, hooked, and annoyed with you because I was supposed to be writing an analysis on a pivotal photographer,” Taryn said, a softness coating her voice. Charlie was learning to like the gentle side of her. She was a quieter person, which made her harder to get a read on. But when Taryn melted in the way she just had, Charlie did, too. She had a definite soft spot for this girl, unique in the way it made her feel. “The contrast between the two stories was hugely impactful. The boy. The fire. You wove it with a true seamlessness.”

“My peers felt the metaphor between the boy and the fire was heavy-handed.”

Taryn blinked. “I couldn’t disagree more. I’m not an MFA writing candidate, but is that who you write for at the end of the day? People who set out to find perceived weaknesses, or someone like me who just lets the story wash over them?”

“Well, when you put it that way, you. Most definitely you.” She internalized the concept. “This is a valuable reminder that the larger world won’t be reading my work with the same fine-tooth comb my classmates do.” She exhaled. “I really look forward to an audience shift.” She covered her eyes, remembering the stress of those critiques. “That will be such a relief.”

Taryn smiled. “Just here to offer a preview. I especially liked the scene where the boy sat with a paintbrush for the first time and learned he could create.” She shrugged. “It’s a weak comparison, but I’ve felt exactly the things you described recently.”

“Tell me when.”

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