Page 107 of The Roommate Lie

“See?” Charlie says. “I told you we’d find them eventually.”

There’s gentle reassurance in his voice, the sound that comes from helping someone through a rough patch, and I understand what happened. I hear his voice, and I know everything.

Charlie glances up, finally realizing I’m home, and I can see it in his face too. In the soft smile he gives me before he focuses back on the woodland gnome. A dialogue box pops up on the television, and he reads it out loud for my sister.

His mother is drinking coffee in the kitchen, and I check with her to make sure my suspicions are correct, keeping my voice low. “He didn’t go to his interview?”

She shakes her head, and she has the most complicated look on her face. As if she’s so proud of him but so disappointed at the same time, as if her son is the only person she knows who can do the right thing and the wrong thing simultaneously.“Your sister was really upset, but she didn’t want him to tell anyone—she was too embarrassed. He didn’t want to leave her here alone.”

It’s the sweetest thing he ever could’ve done, but my heart squeezes as panic sets in. I can feel it slipping away, my Edna wish. That perfect teaching job and all those things Charlie wanted—but that doesn’t mean this is actually over. Just because the situation feels hopeless doesn’t mean that’s true.

Sometimes life falls into place easily, the exact way you planned. But other times—maybe most of the time—you have to make your own wishes come true.

“Could he go interview for the job now? If I take over?”

“Principal Sutter is leaving for vacation with her family this afternoon. She’s probably already gone.”

Probably.

I hear that one hopeful word, and I cling to it. Backing out of the kitchen, I race outside to see if I can track down Principal Sutter on my own, to see if I can fix this without getting anybody’s hopes up. Charlie and I passed the principal’s house on our big hedgerow walk a couple days ago, and it’s only a few blocks away. Maybe if I run, I won’t be too late.

I’m a mess by the time I get there, after sprinting the entire way. Panting and sweaty—but it’s worth it. Her car is still in the driveway, her family waiting inside with the engine running as Principal Sutter locks her front door.I’m not too late.

When she spots me on the sidewalk, I hesitate.

This is the part I’m not ready for, the big conversation. This is the stuff I’m never good at. As she moves closer, my mind goes blank—it basically dies—but I force myself to talk anyway.

“I’m sorry Charlie missed his interview. It’s all my fault.”

That gets her attention, and the truth spills out in a rush, all the facts and details Nicki would kill me for saying out loud. I tell Principal Sutter about my sister’s condition, how she nevergets upset about it. How Nicki has refused to cry and always acts like nothing’s wrong. I tell her how she crumbled today, and the only one there to help her was Charlie.

“I know he didn’t show up,” I say. “He canceled his interview last minute, and I know how bad that looks. But isn’t that the kind of teacher you want? Somebody who cares about what happens to others? The kind of teacher who always makes sure their kids are okay?”

I’m too upset to know if I’m saying the right things, too overheated and tired. I can’t tell if I’m helping Charlie or hurting him. But then my words die out, and Principal Sutter’s face says it all.

Her eyes are gentle, but her smile is firm. “It was nice of you to stop by, but now isn’t the time. Maybe I’ll catch up with him when I get back in town.”

Maybe.

It’s another halfway word, anotherprobably,but this time, there isn’t any hope in it, nothing to cling to. The way she says it,maybedoesn’t feel like the beginning of anything; it feels like the end.

“I hope so,” I say softly, begging myself not to cry. “I hope you really do give him another chance. Later—when you’re back in town. Because Charlie is one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, and you’d be lucky to have him.”

That’s all I can do, all I can say. I retreat down the sidewalk, defeated, and the thing I’m most proud of is how I make it all the way around the corner before I fall apart. Then I get lost—the streets around me a teary-eyed blur—and I’m way less proud of that.

Even when I calm back down, I can’t shake the feeling this is my fault. That Charlie probably had a real shot at that job before I showed up. I’m so lost in my own guilt, I barely notice the car parked by the curb as I finally reach Charlie’s schoolhouse.

A familiar sedan with its engine running and a family waiting inside. Principal Sutter’s family.

She’s standing in the front yard, chatting with Charlie, and I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. That this is what dying of heatstroke feels like, and none of this is real.

On the way back to her car, Principal Sutter breezes past me on the sidewalk, her voice quiet but kind. “Guess you were pretty convincing. Let’s just hope you aren’t wrong about him.”

I’m not. I know I’m not, and I nod in a daze, barely able to breathe as she drives away. The street is quiet for a few seconds before I glance at Charlie, and he’s in a daze too.

The baffled look on his face doesn’t break until I reach him. He grins, scooping me into his arms to hug me tight, and his happiness feels like sunshine. Like wishes coming true.

“I don’t know what you did, Carrots. But I think I just got hired.”

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