Charlotte's Scars

Chapter 2 - Charlotte

Chapter Two

Charlotte

                I opened my eyes to Karla's room cast in a blurry hue. Apparently my eyes weren't miraculously healed - I wasn't surprised. In all my dreams, I never needed glasses, and that should've been my number one hint that it wasn't real.

                That and the fact that I was very shy and quiet, and usually stuttered whenever I tried to talk to Christian.

                It was all a dream. A wonderful dream, yes, but a dream nonetheless.

                Guys like Christian Steele weren't into girls like me. Well, at least not until University. Only six months left of high school, and then I was going away to University to major in psychology. I could not wait! At least then I would be envied because of my brain and not pitied.

                Sighing heavily, I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed my large, mammoth sized glasses. Were they very fashionable? No, but unfortunately for me my parents didn't have health care coverage and they could only afford to buy the ugliest, most unattractive glasses there. They were on sale for seventy-five percent off because no one would touch them with a fifty foot pole.

                I glanced down at Karla just like I had in my dream, and just like in my dream she was sleeping with a small smile on her face.

                My stomach growled again.

                I bit my bottom lip.

               To go downstairs, or not to go down stairs, that was the question.

                I went downstairs.

                It was similar to my dream, except this time I was wearing my glasses, and I wasn't wearing short, chic boxers and a sleazy tank top. Instead, I was wearing a full pajama suit. I never wore clothes that revealed too much skin. It made me feel insecure and uncomfortable, even while I was sleeping. Somethings were better left hidden.

                Eventually, I managed to make it downstairs - once again unnoticed. I just grabbed the milk when I heard his voice again!

                This time...I dropped the milk.

                "No, they are sleeping so just be quiet-" His voice was coming from the foyer, but it wasn't low, deep or husky. It was actually soft with a hint of amusement in it, but he cut himself off when the milk crashed to the floor. "What was that?"

                "It sounds like it came from the kitchen," a girl's voice replied.

                "Hmm, okay." He seemed hesitant. "Wait here a minute."

                I panicked. I don't know why but after that dream I just couldn't bare to see him, especially while he was with another girl. The dream was too fresh, and the fake memory too vivid! So I ran toward the stairs-and slipped on the milk.

                I flew in the air and landed hard on my butt just as Christian walked through the doorway. He stared at me in surprise, and then blinked twice very slowly before amusement began to creep onto his face. His trademark smirk rose at the left corner of his lips causing a slight dimple to surface.

                My heart throbbed with admiration just as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. My butt and thighs was soaked with milk, but I couldn't stop staring at him. This was my curse. Whenever Christian was around I couldn't manage to do anything but stare at him like a fool.

                He was just so gorgeous!

                The way the green specks danced around in his bright blue eyes when they light up with delight always caused my stomach to flutter. He had a squared jaw and a slightly crooked nose that managed to add a bit of rugged, manliness to his boyish beauty. He had this contradictory essence about him. When you looked at him, he seemed charmingly approachable and yet, dangerous. People loved him, but they also feared him.

                It made sense though. He was just over six feet tall and all nicely toned muscles. He was every girl's prince charming and every guy's worst nightmare. If there were ever a guy in the world who was perfect, it was Christian Steele-that I had no doubt of.

                Even when his lips were moving the way they were just now, he was perfect. The way his lips circled on "Oh's" and how they curved on "Ee's" and-Oh, my god! He's talking to me, and I didn't hear a thing he said.

                "Hello?" He waved his hand in front of my face while looking at me with furrowed brows.

                "Huh?" I asked stupidly.

                "Are you okay?" He bent down in front of me. "You didn't hit your head did you?"

                "N-n-n-o."

                He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You're stuttering."

                "I-I-I yah, no I st-stuttered, I mean n-no, I didn't."

                He smiled at me, but it wasn't his trademark smirk. Instead he was looking at me the way an adult looks at a child when they are trying to encourage them to do something. I felt pathetic. I was a girl who could go on and go about the difference between psychodynamic theories vs. cognitive. I knew the historical evolution of psychology like I knew the alphabets. I had a four point oh grade point average and yet, I couldn't manage to say the word no.

                Pathetic!

                "You're Kare's friend, right? Um..." He bit his lip to think for a moment. "Sherry? No, Charlotte!"

                I wanted to yell, "You should know this! I've been friends with her for eight years!" But instead I sputtered out, "Ch-Charlie."

                "Your names Charlie or you prefer Charlie?"

                "Yes."

                He chuckled. "Yes, what?"

                "I p-prefer."

                "Well Charlie, would you like help out of that milk, or you happy where you are?" He stood up and that mischievous smirk appeared back on his face.

                My hearted fluttered, but then realization smacked me in the face. Christian Steele was standing there staring at me sitting in a pool of spilt milk! What was I still doing there?

                I jumped to my feet so quickly I almost lost my balance. I stared at him with large bewildered eyes before running toward the stairs. I didn't turn around but I could feel his eyes on my back as I raced up them, not even bothering to be quiet this time.

                Well, if ever I wanted Christian to notice me, I guess I finally got my wish.

                There was no way he was going to forget the stuttering idiot who sat on his kitchen floor in spilt milk gaping at him like an imbecile.