This is Me Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Intro

  Sept. 6th, 1991

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Sept. 12th

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Sept. 17th

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  October 14th

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Nov. 28th

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  May 13th

  Present Day

  Soundtrack

  Acknowledgements

  Check this out

  For my husband

  "Can I have your attention, please?" Charlie's husband bellowed, perched upon the pale stone lip that surrounded their generous fireplace. "I want to thank you all for coming tonight. It's always so nice to have all of our closest friends in one room. My beautiful wife put this all together, and per usual, it was impeccable." Everyone agreed and clapped a little, some raised their glasses toward the hostess.

  "Charlie, when we met I was a broke college kid eating ramen noodles and giving plasma for beer money." The room was filled with chuckles.

  "When I saw you on that first day in freshman English wearing a scowl, short shorts, and Doc Martens, I knew. I knew that you were the girl for me. You are a handful and a spitfire, but I wouldn't have it any other way. The way you take care of this family astounds me. I might make the money, but baby, you bring the heart. Without you I don't work, this family doesn't work. I love you more today and that's the truth. To fifteen years with the best woman a man could ask for. Love you, baby."

  ~Excerpt from Resilient~

  Intro

  The last tray of food was set on the island. The red and blue napkins were fanned by the red plastic plates. Streamers, paper tablecloth and balloons were also in the Reginald McCoy High, fighting Trojans colors. The hot crab dip with artichoke and gruyere, the bacon wrapped shrimp, and the puffed pastry went unappreciated. Her guests were definitely the Cheetos and pizza set. But she wasn't catering to them anyway. She was appealing to her inner hostess which had been drilled into her psyche by her mother since she was old enough to put on a miniature apron and hold a stirring spoon...about age four. Her mother's bedside table always held the King James Bible and the latest copy of Good Housekeeping.

  She watched her drunken classmates molest her hors d'oeuvres with mild disgust. She sighed and smoothed her long auburn hair with slow, even strokes. Her headband was still firmly in place. Her short sleeved sweater set that was a soft blue, her boyfriend's favorite color, complemented her skin tone. Maybe she shouldn't have worn the khaki skirt. She felt a little over-dressed. Well, the pearls might have done that, not the skirt. But this was a big deal, the graduation party, her graduation party. It was always important to make a good impression.

  She'd almost had a stroke when her mom suggested she host the senior graduation bash at their house. Her parents even stayed at a hotel and wouldn't be back until the morning. They seemed really excited about the hotel thing...not going there, ever. Her dad said he would feel safer knowing she was at home and it didn't hurt that they worshiped the ground her boyfriend walked on. He'd assured her folks that he would make sure the festivities didn't get out of hand. Hmmm, did playing quarters on her mother's antique dining room table and emptying her dad's liquor cabinet count as out of hand? If so, her boyfriend Trent was doing a bang up job keeping things under control.

  Maybe I should say something? No, I don't want to ruin their fun.

  Speaking of Trent, where in the hell is he?

  She hadn't seen him in over an hour. In fact they hadn't seen much of each other in the past few weeks with all of the graduation hoopla, so she was anxious to spend some time with him.

  "Hey Shane, have you seen Trent?" she yelled over "Motown Philly" which was blaring from the speakers.

  "Nah, haven't seen him. Might try the keg."

  She nodded her thanks and made her way to her backyard. The large grotto style pool was filled with half naked graduates. Uh, make that fully naked for Taylor Stevens and Mark Schafer. She shook her head and made her way to the horde surrounding the keg.

  Two small black Converse were sticking up above the crowd.

  "Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventee...whoa!" Cheers and hoots exploded as the shoes disappeared from sight. The sea of sweaty boys parted as her best friend wiped her mouth with her arm.

  "Just think...I can swallow for sixteen seconds!" Jessica wiggled her brows and high-fived the guys surrounding the large metal cylinder. Charlie smiled, her best friend was so care free and fun. She always said whatever she was thinking. She was one of those rare girls that could dish it out and take it. She wasn't a slut, but she talked like one and guys loved her for it. They all knew she didn't put out. Anyone stupid enough to lie about it got stuffed in the dumpster behind the school by her male fan club.

  "C! Where have you been? God, why are you still drink-less? Guys, could one of you cretins please get our hostess a fucking drink? I mean shit, get some fucking manners."

  Charlie laughed. Jessica James was one cool chick.

  "Hey Jess, have you seen Trent?" she said, rolling the white beads at her neck.

  "I saw him a few hours ago. He was surrounded by his pussy posse." That's what Jess called Trent's female followers. The minute Charlie stepped away from his side the vultures would swoop in, anxious for her leftovers.

  "One girl in particular was extra handsy," Jess said, handing Charlie a cup filled with innocuous hops. Charlie raised her eyebrow.

  "Let me guess. Beth Cunningham? Oh no, no...Sara Norris?"

  "Nope. Daniella."

  "Eww, gag. He's probably hiding in a bathroom somewhere. She's the poster slut for reasons to wrap your dong," Charlie quipped, making beer come out of Jess's nose. "Ow, that fucking hurt."

  "Sorry. Well, I guess I'll go check the bathrooms. He may need rescuing."

  "Okay but come back out here. Tiffy and Bridge are wanting to have a pow wow in the gazebo." Tiffany Martinez and Bridgette Warner were the other two in their inner circle.

  "I will, just let me make out with my hot boyfriend for a minute and I'll be right out." She turned to leave and shuddered. She really didn't need to see Jeff Witten's balls dangle as he jumped off of the diving board.

  Never have I wanted to be blind, until right now.

  Living room, kitchen, game room, garage, bedrooms...he was nowhere to be found and no one had seen him. They were probably too busy singing "Signs" at the top of their lungs. She was so over that song.

  Nerves started to set in and her mind started to conjure up all kinds of scenarios.

  Maybe he left. But why would he leave?

  All of his friends were here...I'm here.

  Maybe someone needed a ride home. He's always helping people out.

  Maybe he's avoiding me because I haven't been spending time with him?

  Maybe he's drunk and passed out somewhere. He could be choking on his vomit as we speak!

  Maybe I should stop being a drama queen and keep looking.

  The last room on the second floor was her parents' master suite. The lights were off and thankfully no one was getting to third base on her mom and dad's bed. Just silence and darkness greeted her. As she turned to l
eave she noticed a dim light coming from under the bathroom door. She hoped some airhead wasn't trying on her mother's jewelry.

  Charlie quickened her steps. Pulling open the door she gasped. Well the good news was she'd found Trent, the bad news was...his dick was lodged in another girl's mouth.

  Monday Sept. 6th, 1991

  Today was a complete clusterfuck!

  Let me list all the ways today sucked, including but not limited to the following items:

  -Couldn't find my student ID. Found it lodged under my mattress after an hour-long search.

  -I got lost three times. Why is this campus so fucking enormous? I mean, there are countries smaller than this place...

  -walked into the wrong classroom and sat down! I didn't know I was in the wrong class until the prof came in. Walk of shame immediately followed...

  -have about five hundred people in my government class. Should a foreign dude be teaching US Govt? I couldn't even understand what he was fucking saying.

  -I saw about twenty people I went to high school with.

  Should've gone to school in Alaska.

  The good news is some walked right by me and the others didn't recognize me right away. They were expecting the high school Charlie. The designer jeans wearing, long flowing locks, pink lip gloss Charlie.

  I mean, its not like I got a sex change! I got a haircut and I wear eye liner. Not Robert Smith eye liner. Just more than I used to wear, which was none. Mom always said proper young ladies don't wear eye makeup and that eye liner was for show girls and hookers.

  *Where does she get this stuff? I saw a picture of her in the sixties and she looked like Barbarella. Does becoming a parent mean you become a total hypocrite or is it just mine? Food for thought...

  *I got a free makeover with Bridge at the mall this summer and I looked hot, so the eye liner stays.

  Get used the real Charlie assholes!

  This is me.

  PS. I love my new Doc Martens♡ So glad Jess and I found them at the mall. I get strange looks, but I'm okay with that.

  PSS. I heard a song by some group out of Seattle yesterday, Smells like Teen something or other. I think maybe music is taking a turn for the better. Stay tuned...

  PSSS. No boys caught my eye, not that I'm looking! Boys suck!

  Chapter 1

  ~Charlie~

  "Why did I choose this school again?" Charlie grumbled as the fourth person she knew from back home waved to her. She gripped the straps of her backpack, put her head down and picked up the pace.

  Oh right, it's because my boyfriend was going here and we thought it would be so much fun to go off to college together.

  They'd talked about getting married after college, having two kids and a dog. They'd even named the dog...don't ask. That was before she caught Daniella Stevens going down on him in her parents' bathroom at a graduation party, the graduation party being held at her house! Yep, one of the highlights of her high school experience. Um, not.

  She'd felt betrayed, but her ego was bruised a little more than her heart. The nerve of that guy. The bonfire helped. What bonfire? The one where she and her friends drank peach wine coolers and burned all of his pictures and dating memorabilia, which included her homecoming mum and his practice jersey. She also gathered all the lame clothes she thought she was supposed to wear and gave them to charity. It was cathartic, like shedding an old skin that never really fit in the first place. In case you were wondering, don't burn mixed tapes.

  She'd yet to run into the asshole, lucky for him. Her new shoes were steel-toed and she was not afraid to plant one firmly into his ball sack. She laughed, picturing it in her mind, the momentum from her kick lifting him off of the ground.

  "Take that you, dick head." If there was a God, it would happen.

  The old Charlie would've never done a thing like that. In fact when she caught them, she just squealed impotently as she shut the bathroom door. Then she cried like a baby in the gazebo for two hours while her girlfriends rubbed her back, offering generic consolations. Such as, but not limited to these nuggets of wisdom...

  "There are way hotter guys out there."

  Not really. He was totally gorgeous and had a six pack.

  "Daniella is such a skank."

  Can't argue with the truth.

  "Be glad you found out now before you gave him your v-card."

  Okay.

  And her personal favorite, "You're too good for him anyway."

  Yeah, she was too good for the all-state wide receiver of the football team, president of the student council and most popular guy in school...What she'd been too embarrassed to tell them was that she had given him her v-card the month before. They were both tipsy at Jake Webber's keg party, where a very heavy petting session became more serious. They did it in one of the bedrooms. If the pink bedding and teddy bear that got flung on the floor were any indiction, it was Webber's little sister's room.

  Well, she was pretty sure they did it... She could still picture it, her eyes wide as he thrusted two and half times before coming on her stomach. She barely felt him put it in...it was about as satisfying as the sex talk she had with her mom the year before...

  "Now, Charlene..." Her mom always called her Charlene, which she hated. It sounded worse with her mother's thick Texas accent. "The bible says that fornicatin' before you're married is a sin. So if you get the urge you just say a little prayer to the Lord or maybe go get yourself an ice cream. You still love ice cream, don't ya, sugar?"

  "Yeah, thanks, Mom. And remind me again why I was born three months after you married Daddy?" Of course she didn't say that out loud. The old Charlie would never say anything like that out loud. That's what her journal was for.

  Needless to say she hadn't been anxious for a repeat of Trent's underwhelming pokings and he'd been getting frustrated. Enter Daniella with her double D breasts, tight jeans, and lack of a gag reflex. May she rot in the hell of skeevey bitches.

  It was too late for her to switch universities at that point, which sucked because she'd been accepted to every one she'd applied. Including a very nice one in Malibu. So instead of sunning on the beaches of California, she was dodging the preppy clingers from her high school, the main one being the one-minute wonder. She figured with forty thousand students, what were the odds? Well so far the odds had been in her favor. But she'd seen everyone else from her school, so it was just a matter of time.

  Freshman English was the reason for her 8:30 trek across campus on a Tuesday morning. The strong breeze whipping across her body was making her re-think the short cut-offs she was wearing. She was actually looking forward to this class despite the blustery conditions.

  The classroom was small, about twenty desks, and that was promising. She'd had her fill of stadium seating classes like the three the day before. Charlie selected a seat in the middle, not really taking in the details of those sitting around her. Once she was settled and had her paper and pen out she took a covert look around the class through her bangs. She crossed her legs and pulled at the denim ineffectively. Her legs were a mile long in these poor excuse for butt cover.

  "Stare much, creep?" she whispered, referring to the guy in the seat beside her.

  Note to self: Next time wear overalls to English. Then she wouldn't be subjected to the oglings of this hard-on.

  "Hey. Psst, hey."

  Hard-on was speaking to her. She rolled her eyes and ignored him. She used to love attention from the opposite sex, but things had changed. She was now in the category of angry, boy hater. Well maybe hate was a strong word, strongly averse to penis packers was more like it.

  "Hey, hey! Excuse me, Miss."

  Miss? What the hell? She rolled her eyes again. At this rate, they were going to completely detach from her retinas.

  "Hey!"

  "What? Hit on someone with your own cerebral capacity."

  He startled a bit and then said, "I was actually going to ask you for a pen, but okay...Beauty and brains, nice. Too bad I'm into slutty and
stupid."

  He smiled and she clenched her fist. She was in no mood for the comedic stylings of a fraternity rush t-shirt, loafer wearing Neanderthal. Nope not now, not ever. She knew his type...the Trent type. Handsome and wholesome on the outside, horny and untrustworthy on the inside.

  Die, Trent, you heartbreaking bastard!

  She shivered as the memory of him gripping the counter and moaning like an animal flashed into her mind.

  "Eighteen is way too young to be bitter and jaded."

  This guy couldn't take a hint.

  "I'm not jaded. I just have a much lower bullshit tolerance than the average female."

  He put his hand to his chest. "Are you saying that I, a perfect stranger that has said two sentences to you, am full of shit?" He then smiled and she noticed, begrudgingly, that he had very nice teeth and a small dimple on the left corner of his mouth. Not that she was looking. She rolled her eyes once again with feeling and faced the front. Thankfully their prof came in before he could continue his harassment attempts. She focused on the young man behind a small brown podium.

  "Welcome to Composition and Rhetoric, better known as English 101. You may've heard that this is a weed out class for freshman and it is. But every class your first semester will be that way. It will force you to prove that you belong in here, that you have the self-discipline and time management skills to get the job done." Their young teacher pushed his wire rimmed glasses up and picked up a pile of papers. "I'm handing out your syllabus. You guys take a look on your own time. I'm not going to waste your time or mine reading aloud. If you have questions let me know. Oh, and you can call me Conner. I'm working on my Ph.D., so I'm not quite a Dr. yet, plus it makes me sound old as hell." Charlie knew right away that she was going to like Conner and this class. Well that's one so far...

  "Hey, wait up!"

  Jesus Christ, buy a clue!

  "Hey, I hope you know I was just kidding you back there. I'm sure you only act jaded." He winked. "I'm Michael, by the way." He put his hand out while walking backwards.

  "Charlie."

  She shook his hand quickly, keeping up her brisk pace.