Page 182 of The Charlie Method

“If you insist.”

Will’s fist shoots forward, colliding into Mitch’s jaw with a sickening crack. My ex staggers, clutching his face.

“Get the hell out of here,” Will snarls.

Mitch doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles back inside, muttering curses under his breath.

As soon as he’s gone, the reality of what just happened crashes down on me. Mitch isn’t going to keep his mouth shut about this. Any of it. He’s going to go in there and rant about how Charlotte’s hockey player goon punched him in the face. How Charlotte is a slut who’s banging the entire hockey team. I can already hear the questions from my sorority sisters. The interrogation from Agatha.

“You okay?” Will asks.

I shake my head, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I can’t believe this happened.”

“It’s not your fault. He deserved it.”

I know he’s right, but that doesn’t make the embarrassment any less overwhelming. “Agatha and the others are going to have a lot to say about this.”

“Let them say it. Who cares what they think?”

I care. I care too much. I can already hear the whispers, the judgment, the way they’ll look at me tomorrow like I’m a walking scandal. My secret life is catching up to me, encroaching on my real life.

A life that feels more and more like it’s spiraling out of control.

I go home with Will instead of to the sorority house. I’m in avoidance mode. Faith texts to make sure I’m okay, and I assure her I am, but I’m lying.

At the boys’ house, I undress in Will’s bedroom, leaving my jewelry on his night table and my dress on his floor. Then I slip into the T-shirt he hands me. Briar Hockey. It hangs past my knees and smells like him.

I collapse on his mattress, the tension in my muscles refusing to alleviate.

I hear the water running in the hall bathroom. Beckett was in the shower when we got back, and now it sounds like he’s brushing his teeth. As Will gets ready for bed, he glances over every few seconds as if to check I’m not going to burst into tears. He’s right to worry.

Before I can ward it off, the wave hits me. Suddenly my chest feels too tight, like there’s a vise squeezing my lungs, and my heart beats so fast it blurs my vision.

It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced a pressure wave this suffocating.

Everything is closing in on me. School, my capstone project, my family, my new brother. Keeping this secret life hidden. Pretending everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

It’s all too much.

I’m dating two guys. Two amazing, complicated, intense guys. And if anyone finds out, my entire world will implode.

I can’t bear the thought of losing them, but it feels like I’m on the edge of a cliff, dangerously close to falling. The guilt and fear and overwhelming sense of helplessness—it all comes crashing down on me like a tidal wave, and before I know it, I’m sliding off the bed and onto the floor of Will’s bedroom, gasping for air.

“Charlie?”

I can’t breathe. I feel the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“Charlotte.”

Will’s voice is soft, but there’s an urgency in it that cuts through the fog in my mind. He kneels in front of me, his hands cupping my face as he tries to force me to look at him.

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

“I…I can’t,” I wheeze.

“Yes, you can,” he insists, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “I’m right here, okay? Focus on me. Breathe with me.”

He takes a slow, deep breath, exaggerating it so I can follow along. I try to mimic him, inhaling shakily and exhaling just as unsteadily. My heart is still racing, my mind still spinning, but Will doesn’t let go. He keeps his eyes locked on mine.

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