the other side of us | ✓

1.18 | where this is gonna go

Mason had woken up with a crick in his neck and a text from his mother saying that she had to work a double shift.

He groaned and rolled over in bed, throwing his arms across his eyes to block out the sun.

And then his eyes shot open when he realized what day it was.

It was Thursday.

The day of the date. With Charlotte. Finally.

Mason hopped out of bed and cringed when his feet hit the cold floor, walking quickly to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

He took extra care shaving so as not to cut himself, and even took the time to blow dry his hair before carefully styling it.

He only had one chance to pull off a first date with Charlotte, and he did not want to screw it up.

***

Charlotte had been up since five that morning, and it was partly to do with the fact that she was nervous about her date and more to do with the fact that her father had been sick all night.

Around seven, she heard her father in the bathroom again, and put down her book to check on him.

"Dad?"

He didn't answer her, but she could hear him in the bathroom, coughing loudly.

Charlotte groaned slightly and rolled out of bed, pushing her hair behind her ears while she stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom that connected the living room and her father's bedroom.

"Dad?" Charlotte nudged the door open and poked her head in. Her father was kneeling on the ground, his head leaning against the side of their gray tub, his eyes closed.

"Lottie, go back to bed. I'm fine." His voice was weak, and Charlotte cringed.

"Dad, let me help."

"Charlotte, go back to bed. I don't want you to get sick."

She ignored her father and entered the bathroom, sitting next to her dad and rubbing his back gently.

Charlotte hated when her dad was sick. He was normally her rock, the one person that she could depend on. Outside of the shop, her dad was the one constant in her life, so him being sick really shook her.

Once Charlotte coaxed her father back into bed, she tucked the covers firmly around him, left a cup of water and a sleeve of crackers on his bedside table, and settled herself on the couch with a mug of cocoa and her laptop.

There were roughly eleven hours until her date, and she needed to do all of the research that she could.

*

"When's he scooping you?" Ash asked, separating the hangers on Charlotte's clothes rack.

"Six," Charlotte responded, trying not to move as Devin swiped a brush across her eyelid.

"Don't say 'scoop' Ash. You sound weird when you try to use current words," Devin snickered. "Open."

Charlotte followed her instruction and opened her eyes, avoiding her reflection. The three of them were in Charlotte's room, and her friends were helping her get ready for her date. Devin had insisted on closing the shop early, and Charlotte had reluctantly agreed.

"Shut up, Devin. Charlie, do you know where you're going?"

"No idea."

"Well that's not very helpful."

Charlotte could hear Ash throwing clothes onto her bed, the hangers muffled by her bedsheets.

"Charlie, you really need to update your wardrobe."