Between the Stars

Chapter Twelve

A few days later, Sam sat on the pier near the lighthouse while he waited for Charlie. The sky was a perfect blue and his skin itched under his hoodie. Every day for the last two weeks it had been hot and sunny, and it was irritating that he couldn't make himself leave his sweatshirt behind. He'd come close a couple times but he'd always pulled it on at the last second, reluctant to let go of his only piece of armor. He pulled the sleeves up to his elbows and kicked his legs in the water as the waves lapped the edge of the pier. The dull thud of footsteps reached his ears and he turned to see Charlie walking along the pier towards him.

"Charlie, what the hell?" He did a double take as she approached.

"What?" Her brow furrowed as she plopped down next to him and dangled her feet in the water.

"Your eye. You have a black eye."

"Oh, it's nothing." She turned away just enough that he couldn't see the deep purple bruise that shadowed her eye and stretched across her cheekbone. "Got in a fight."

"With a person or a door?" Sam leaned forward a bit to hold her gaze.

"You're hilarious." She stared down at the water.

"Are you sure? That looks pretty bad. We could probably get my mom to take a look—"

"Don't worry about it, Sam. I'm fine." The hardness in her eyes matched the edge in her tone.

"I'm serious—"

"So am I," she interrupted. "Leave it alone."

She drew her legs out of the water and stood abruptly. "I'm going up. Are you coming or not?"

Guilt settled on his shoulders as Charlie started down the pier ahead of him. He jumped up and grabbed his shoes before hurrying after her. He mentally kicked himself; judging by the tense set of her shoulders, he'd pushed too far.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She slowed to a halt and stared down at the concrete.

"You don't need to apologize. It shows you care. But thank you."

"I was just surprised to see it, considering how you blocked that punch from Jacob when we first met." He took her pause in stride as an opportunity to put his shoes back on.

Charlie snorted. "That was pure luck. And besides, Jacob's much smaller than—"

Her words cut off abruptly as she crossed her arms and looked away. Something lurched in Sam's chest; he didn't like seeing his usually carefree friend so dispirited.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," Sam said quietly as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "But you've listened to enough of my whining already, so it's my turn. If you want."

Charlie's mouth twitched into a hint of a smile as a touch of humor lit up her tired brown eyes.

"You're self-deprecating again."

"And you're changing the subject."

Annoyance flared across her face. "It wasn't a door, or Jacob or the other boys. It was my dad."

Her words hit him like a punch in the gut.

"What? Your— why would he do that?"

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a rueful smile as she turned towards the ladder.

"Because in case you haven't noticed, I've got a smart mouth. And he's got a temper, especially when he's been drinking."

Sam's brow furrowed. "You're doing that thing again."