Charlie Whitmen loves sports, junk food, video games, cars and basically anything-if not everything-your average teenaged boy would find interesting. But wait a second, Charlie isn't even a boy! Oh no, she's actually a girl!
Bet you didn't see that...
Author's Thoughts: Sorry for the wait. I've got exams this week and the next week. I hope you'll enjoy this update though. As always, please leave comments and votes if you'd like! I'd love to hear what you think.
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Playing Bingo
"Do you think I'm out of my mind?" Ethan ponders out loud as he stares at nothing in particular and waits for a reply. Of course, he gets no answer, causing him to shoot up to his feet. He peers down at Maxwell who is laying down on all fours. The golden retriever is too preoccupied playing with his favorite chew-toy to pay the boy any attention and Ethan collapses back onto the couch in utter defeat.
"I must be," he mutters, his eyes now transfixed on the ceiling. "I'm asking my dog for advice about going for a girl who already has an amazing boyfriend."
Trying to clear his thoughts, which seem to be clouded solely by Charlie, Ethan shuts his eyes and concentrates on his breathing. He inhales the oxygen through his nostrils and exhales the carbon dioxide out of his mouth. Usually, when he does this, he is able to organize his thoughts and emotions without a problem. It has always worked for him. That's how he managed to get through the ordeal back in Stowe.
This time, it isn't the same though.
Even after performing the technique for fifteen minutes straight, Ethan realizes that nothing has changed. His thoughts and feelings are still disheveled and scattered about. Groaning in frustration, Ethan straightens his posture. Desperate and in dire need of assistance, he looks at his beloved canine companion for some guidance yet again. Maxwell glances up and with his chew-toy in his mouth, he lifts his head and cocks it to the side.
"I don't stand a chance, do I?" Ethan's heart clenches, as if someone is squeezing it in the palm of their hand, while his expression becomes gloomy and doleful. As though he knows his owner is hurting, Maxwell drops his worn dinosaur plush onto the floor and nudges to the boy's feet with the use of his nose.
The corners of Ethan's lips etch upwards as he shakes his head. "It's not mine," he says softly. "I can't take it." But Maxwell makes no move to take the plush toy back. Suddenly, his phone chirps and Ethan checks it. The wind gets sucked out of his lungs in less than five seconds as Charlie's name appears on the screen. Just because he can't have her, doesn't mean he has to cut her out of his life, right? They could still be friends. It'd be a waste if their friendship came to an end over such a foolish reason.
Sure, the first time they crossed paths hadn't been ideal. To be honest, Ethan didn't like Charlie at all after she had sucker punched him. What sane person would? Her right hook costed him three whole days of walking around with a discolored bruise the size of freaking baseball on his face! Ethan thought she was attractive (he still does), which explains why he tried to hit on her.
At the time, he had been a guy with a lot on his mind, searching for something—anything—that would give him solace. So he thought he'd get lucky and score a homerun with Charlie, but instead, he winded up being the one getting hit on, quite literally too.
