Out of My League

{28} Skeletons

Charlotte's POV

"My father is dead."

I held the phone in my hand, shocked at Kara's words. "What happened?"

"They found him right before the trial with his belt around his neck," Kara explained, her voice shaking.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," I exclaimed as I searched my apartment for my laptop.

I'd gotten back from Miami a day ago. Lemon, on the other hand, would arrive in a few days. I opened the computer, searching the news for any information on the shocking suicide. Sure enough, about a dozen articles came up saying the same thing: Former New York publisher, Archibald Stevens, had killed himself.

"Charlotte, I'm so lost right now. I don't know what to do," Kara said frantically.  "I'm an orphan."

"I'm here, if you need anything," I promised. Even if he was psychotic and perverted, she had just lost her father.

"Actually, you're not," she stated, her voice shaking. "Please, I need someone right now."

"Oh, of course," I said in surprise. "Where are you?"

"I'm at my office. I don't want to go home yet."

"Okay, I'll be right there." I checked my phone. It was 9 pm right now and Kara's office was 30 minutes away, but I'd do anything to help somebody in so much pain. After all, she had done the same for me.

Lemon's POV

After spending the night at Cathy's, it almost felt like the old times. I had to remind myself as I entered my house that I was no longer in high school. Nothing had changed. There were still a crap ton of family photos all over the house and it still smelled like our fabric softener.

My parents were both at work, leaving me alone in the house. What they didn't know is that when I was home alone, normal Lemon became crazy Lemon. I blasted music through the speakers. I was currently going through a raging and slightly embarrassing Taylor Swift phase. As I danced around the house, I passed my sister's bedroom causing me to stop in my tracks.

It had been years since I'd gone inside, but for some reason now felt like the right time to finally enter the bedroom. I walked into the room slowly, holding in a breath. I gazed at the dozens of piano posters around her walls. Catherine loved playing the piano. 

She had always been the "golden child." She was beautiful, smart, and her smile could light up any room. Catherine was my idol. Sometimes I wondered what could've possibly happened at college to make her overdose so young. This was why I'd never taken drugs and had avoided alcohol ever since the anniversary of her death 7 years ago.

If it wasn't for Charlotte on that awful day, I would probably have spiraled out of control. I just wish my sister had a Charlotte to help her.  I smiled softly as I exited the room after a while. Going to NYU was a dream come true, and I couldn't have done it without Catherine.

"But I wish you were here," I whispered, hoping that some miracle would allow her to hear me. Taylor Swift was still blasting through the speakers in the hallway, making me laugh out loud. Hit by a sudden stroke of inspiration, I ran into my room. I pulled out the typewriter Charlotte had given me. My parents would be home in a few minutes, but I knew I needed an ongoing project before Paris. 

I was going to tell the story of two sisters. How one of the sisters pushed the other beyond her comfort zone and taught her anything was possible, changing her life for the better, but got caught in the middle of a toxic environment in college. It would be a story that ended in tragedy, but I had to write it.