Chapter 1 - Charlotte
"As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death." - Leonardo da Vinci
"My house is so dark," whined Charlotte. "Can we not afford lights in this dump?" The lights had been out in the kitchen for a week since Mr. Buxton had been away on business in Jacksonville. He went on business a lot lately. Last week he was in Omaha working with a client. Now Jacksonville. Next week will be Santa Barbara. God, how she wanted to go to Santa Barbara. Not only was her absolute favorite TV show Psych based there, but her favorite artist Katy Perry grew up there. It was one of the only places she wanted to go to for summer vacation and her stupid dad wouldn't even take her.
She hit the wall, knocking down a picture in the process. Not like it mattered. No one was home. Except for Carl. The fish. She was pretty sure he wouldn't care if she broke the stupid picture frame in the stupid house in the stupid state in the stupid world. Stupid. She looked across the room. Her mom's ugly curtains weren't closed. Which was weird. They were always closed. No matter what. Hm, she'd have to ask her mom about that when she got home. She heard something in the kitchen.
"Hello? Who's there? Sam? Is that you?" she called out. "Hello?
"Boo!" screamed Tara and Max together. They were laughing so hard they were rolling on the floor. Max was literally rolling on her living room floor while Tara was kneeling, about to fall over.
"How dare you?! I thought you were my stupid brother. You scared me half to death! I saw the damn curtains open and I flipped. Mom never leaves those open. I can't believe you two did that to me. I scared me to pieces. I hate you," she told them with a punch to Max's shoulder. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. That scared me. Sam isn't supposed to be home until tomorrow night and Dad shouldn't be home until next Friday and Mom won't be home until tomorrow morning at least and--"
"You do know you ramble when you get scared, right? It's quite annoying actually. Can I steal a bit of tea from your cupboard? I know your mum refilled your stock of tea before she left, so don't even tell me no," Max said. He had the most beautiful british accent in the world. He transferred from the UK in November and Charlotte and Tara had taken an immediate liking to his quirky mannerisms and fabulous accent. He was the stereotype that people from the UK usually have. "Darling, can I get a shower? Miss let's-sneak-up-and-go-thorough-the-back-way-so-we-can-scare-the-shit-out-of-Char over here thought it would be a good idea to get me all muddy on the way in... Alrighty. Thanks, babe." At that, he blew the biggest kiss he could manage towards the girls.
"I thought you wanted tea, loser," yelled Tara when he was halfway up the stairs.
"Oh, honey, I'll drink it in a bit. You got me all messy and I need cleaned up. Then I'll drink my tea. Oh, Char, do you have those tiny crackers we had at the restaurant the other day? I really liked those and you said you were going to the market. Did you happen to grab those for me?"
"Oh, dammit. I forgot to pick those up from the store yesterday when I went," she whispered to Tara. "Yes, sir. I picked them up yesterday," she lied.
"Thanks, Boo!" he hollered as he bounced up the stairs.
"Oh my God. You can't lie to him about that. He'll practically die when he finds out you don't actually have any," Tara said quietly.
"You'll go get some," replied Charlotte whith a smirk. "Be quick about it. His showers only take half an hour and the store is, like, ten minutes away."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't. You love me. You absolutely adore me," Charlotte said between giggles as Tara left. "Have fun at the market," she said in the best british accent she could muster up.
"Shut up, ugly." This was Tara's thing. If she insulted you, you knew she loved you. Calling people ugly, loser, freak, etc. was just what she did. But Charlotte wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, if Tara randomly stopped calling her mean names she would start to worry.
She sat down on her big, black sectional. "Perfect for movie nights," he mother had said when she was buying it. "No stains, lots of room. What isn't to love." What wasn't to love, thought Charlotte. Oh, you know. No one ever uses it, except for Tara, Max and me. No one is ever home to use it.
She picked up a book from the coffee table. To Kill A Mockingbird. She opened it to the first page and scanned through it. It must have been Sam's freshman summer reading project. It was one of those books that most people would only read if they were assigned to it. She, however, had loved it and had read it six times since her summer reading project 3 years ago. She flipped through the book. Even though she loved it, she didn't feel like reading it tonight.
She leaned back. and stared at the ceiling for a second then closed her eyes. She listened to the water from the shower and Max's off-tune humming. She heard the hum of the ceiling fan and the weird clicking noise that her dad had never fixed. She listened to the crickets outside. She listened to the dog snoring in the hall. As she listened to all the different sounds of her life, she realized she loved life. She had the greatest friends, a great family. What more could she want?
