A Thousand Ways To Run

W a r r e n

*WARNING* Mature themes in this chapter. The book is rated PG-13. And it's staying that rating for a reason.

And if you don't like this chapter, just remember.... Amy made me do it.

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Charlie shook in my arms as she pummeled into me, trembling and unsteady on her feet. That was the second sign that told me something wasn’t quite right. She never acted that way. An air of confidence used to waft about her like heavy perfume. I held her tight until she stopped shaking, and then tighter because it felt right. Our bodies were aligned, toe to toe, knee to knee, chest to chest.

The first was the look on her face when she first stepped in the room. Lost, like a foreign identity or swiped memory. The next second she was running to me faster than I thought she could. After I heard about the accident, I expected limping and visible bruises. Even the slight concussion they mentioned didn’t seem to affect her balance and swiftness as she barrelled into my waiting arms, teetering on toppling me over.

But when they had told me about the accident, I had also almost shattered a one-hundred year old vase, angrier than I’d ever been. Even angrier than when I first found out people were hunting after her, but never able to get Charlie within their reaches enough to hurt her. Then they did. And barrelling into her minivan wasn’t what really hurt Charlie, I knew that. Bruises would heal, but the memories wouldn’t fade as easily. The fear they put into her was worse than the accident. And it sickened me. 

I was never scared of breaking her. Charlie was never delicate. But after seeing her for the first time since she left, I started to think differently.

She hadn’t said a single word as we started to shuffling in a circle, still locked in a tight embrace. It was reminiscent of a slow dance, but way too close for high school normalcy. I looked up to see Porter and Penny still in the doorway, one hand on the door handle and one extended to her, trying so hard to get her attention. I may not have noticed his sideways glances and close proximity he always maintained with Penny, but once I did it was all there was to see. Like one of those hidden objects in a picture; after finding it, the piece never looks the same way again.

Our eyes met, a smirk growing on his features while Penny stayed blissfully happy. She was pure like that, happy because others were happy. 

Maybe it was just a guy thing, but it seemed to be tradition to ridicule or point out to another man when his feelings started to really show for the person he liked. HIgh schoolers made whipping sounds, flicking their wrists and mocking. But Porter was above that; he simply smirked and flicked his gaze down to Charlie, gesturing to her. I mirrored his actions, looking to Penny and then his outstretched hand that stayed in mid-air. He rested it at his side immediately, like my simple stare had physically shocked him. 

Or maybe it wasn’t ridicule at all, just one person’s way of proving people that they weren’t indestructible, pointing a sharpened blade right at the hole in their armor, and knowing you had one, too.

He began to shut the door, a simple nod of understanding, touching Penny lightly to wake her from her daydream. She had watched us with silent reverie, probably finding what we had cute or romantic, the idea of forbidden love appealing to her inner teenage girl. Together, she and Porter quietly exited and left Charlie and I alone, something I never expected to see. No questions. No lectures. No wiggling eyebrows. It was a nice change.

“I missed you,” I whispered, leaving out the part about almost pulling my hair out as I waited to actually see her. The agent they assigned to sit and wait with me nearly went nuts, too, for how much trouble I gave him.