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...
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Playing a Poorly Planned Prank
It's as though someone has hit the pause button on a remote control, immobilizing everything but the two teenagers seated on the couch. At the moment, their eyes are solely fixated on one another. And although there is nothing but comfortable silence lingering between them, it's not the same case internally speaking. Their hearts are thudding wildly and haphazardly against their chests, as if the organs are ready to burst right through at any second.
Charlie finds herself holding her breath while the warmth from Ethan's palm envelopes her entire body, almost paralyzing her. His words are all jumbled up in her head and she tries her best not to cower away, sitting as stiff and still as a statue composed of marble. Slowly, but surely, the boy inches closer, the tiny bit of distance keeping them apart growing smaller and smaller.
His hot breath begins to drum against face, sending tingles tumbling down her spine as she finally realizes what's going on. The hairs on the back of her neck stand erect and she involuntarily shivers, goosebumps unfurling against her skin. She should retreat, tell him to stop but...why should she? Inside, Charlie knows that this is what she wants. He is what she wants. Her eyelids flutter shut as she waits for his lips to unite with hers.
The only problem is they never do.
"I shouldn't do this," Ethan confesses breathlessly as he pulls his head back.
His voice causes Charlie's eyes to shoot open. "Why not?" she questions, not bothering to conceal her disappointment.
"Because it's not right," he answers as he caresses her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I don't want to confuse you. I don't want to take advantage of the situation." His hand falls down onto his lap and he shifts away, no longer looking at Charlie. "You must be pitying me right now."—his voice cracks a little but he continues—"I don't want you to do something you're going to regret."
"I'm not pitying you," she replies almost immediately. "Why would I?"
"Because I'm the broken kid who got dealt a pretty shitty hand," Ethan snaps, momentarily losing his cool. He didn't mean to do that, especially not to the girl who's able to make him feel whole again. He just doesn't want to be given false hope. She shouldn't come to him simply because she feels bad about his situation. That's the last thing he needs.
"Don't be such a little bitch," Charlie scoffs bluntly, taking him by surprise. Then again, he should have expected her to say something like this. It's Charlie we're talking about here. She's as callous as the hands of a professional powerlifter. And shockingly enough, this might be what he needs to hear. "There's nothing about you that's broken. So stop throwing yourself a pity-party already, would you?" Like gravity pulling him in, Ethan turns and looks at her, his expression softening as he waits for her to carry on. And she does.
"All I see right now is a guy who's trying to get used to something...different," Charlie remarks. "I won't sit here and lie to you. I can't say I understand what you're going through either because I don't. But if it's of any consolation, I'll be here if you need me." A smile ghosts over her lips and Charlie locks eyes with him. "Didn't you know even the shittiest of hands could still win as long as you know how to bluff and you've got a lucky lady by your side?"
