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Chapter 21

Tyler Emery

I was scared to get too far from Charlotte for the rest of the day, knowing how hard it would be after her parents' ultimatum. I couldn't even imagine the fear, self-doubt, and despair that was filling her, but even so, I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if my mom had done the same for me. What if she had realized where I was headed, taken notice of me sneaking out of the house, actually tried to discipline me instead of just trying to make me feel guilty? Would I have stopped myself if I knew that I would be taken from my home if I didn't straighten up? Would I have lived? My heart turned cold, and tears filled my eyes every time I thought about that. It was like a rock stuck in my shoe; I was constantly aware of it and if I stopped to think about it for too long, I would stand there for ten minutes trying to fish it out.

Along with dwelling on the fact that I could have been saved, my mind kept spinning back to the photo of my mom with Charlotte's mom. Guilt over dropping it ate at me all day, and I was scared that some form of angel police would drop down from the sky and whisk me to Hell because I revealed my presence to someone other than the girl I was guarding. I didn't know if there were rules against that, because I didn't know anything, but it didn't seem like something that could possibly be allowed or legal or in the Bible, whatever. Even so, there was a part of me that kept itching to pick the picture up again after Mr. O'Brien put it on the kitchen counter. There was a mystery here, I was certain of it, a way that Charlotte and I were connected that maybe explained why I was chosen to be her guardian angel out of all the other people on Earth. The curiosity about it was more prevalent than the guilt, so I chose to focus on that, mostly because the curiosity didn't make me feel like I was going to puke from apprehension. Plus, I really missed my mom.

I followed Charlotte closely, these thoughts crowding my head like angry jellyfish, stinging and poisoning me, but that didn't stop me from celebrating her triumphs. When she took out her special Braille typewriter, I enveloped her in a hug, and when she actually finished the worksheet, I slapped her hand repeatedly in a form of a high-five. This girl had risen to the occasion as high as she could and I was so proud of her. It wasn't easy to bounce back from the bottom, especially after only a day of recuperating. Most people stayed at the bottom for a long while, lounging and taking in the dismal surroundings, but not Charlie. She took a day, granted it felt like an incredibly long and boring day, but just a day to convince herself that she needed to change, that her life wouldn't improve until she took the steps to get back to where she was. Again, I couldn't help wondering what might have happened if I had been given this chance, this ultimatum. Maybe I wouldn't have gone to Emily's party. But maybe I would have gone to another one.

Lunch was hard for Charlotte. Ric stood about five feet away for at least three minutes, putting his hands in his middle pocket and pulling them out again, like he was highly upset. His curly hair fell into his eyes as he bent his head, and his eyes tightened in the corners. He watched as Charlotte sipped methodically out of a water bottle, an uneaten sandwich and a bag of apples laid out in front of her. I wondered if he saw the way her hands shook slightly like trembling leaves, and the way she kept tapping her right foot. Maybe he just saw the way her sweater hugged her abdomen and how her hair framed her face. He finally sat down, aggressively eating a granola bar he had gotten out of his bookbag, and pulling his chair so close to Charlotte's, they were practically Siamese twins.

I happily imagined separating them, shoving Ric to the ground and pulling Charlotte away, far enough away where he couldn't influence her. It would have to be somewhere really far, maybe Alaska. But even through my spiteful musings, my own weakness tore at my pride, reminding me that I couldn't hold a picture frame for more than a few seconds, let alone force away a healthy teenage boy. Charlotte needed someone who could really protect her, someone who could see past this kid's curly hair and stupid hoodies.