Charlotte's Tangled Web: L.B. Pavlov (20 page)

“My God, Charlie, you’ve sure had your ass kicked an awful lot lately,” Steph blurted out. Kathleen and I burst out laughing.

“I think we may need to get you some kickboxing lessons for Christmas,” Kathleen added.

We all laughed, and it felt good to laugh. I was sick of crying. I was all cried out. We had a good long hug, and I was ready to go home. I cleaned myself up a little more and looked at my face in the mirror. I had a big, fat lip. It was split open on one side, which must have been where all of the blood had come from. My cheek had a slight split as well, but it would heal just fine in a few days. The police came and interviewed me. I filed a police report, and they took Blane away.

A female police officer spoke to me privately, making sure that nothing of a sexual nature had occurred. I assured her that aside from the disgusting attempt at a kiss, nothing had happened. She said that I was very lucky that they had burst through the door when they did.

The party had cleared out as soon as the police had arrived. Daniel was an absolute wreck. Jack said that he would drive the truck home so Daniel could sit with me.

We were heading home when Jack said, “You know we have to tell Dad, Charlie? Your face is a mess. There’s no hiding this, OK?” he finished, looking in the rearview mirror to assess my reaction.

Our eyes met, and I saw such sadness in his eyes. He felt so bad. I hated Blane for ruining this great night. I nodded at Jack to let him know that I understood.

“That little prick is definitely getting kicked out of St. Viator’s,” Daniel said angrily.

I squeezed his hand to try to calm him down. He pulled me into his arms, and he must have said, “I’m sorry,” a dozen times.

We all went inside, and Jack went and found my dad. He went crazy.

“Where the hell were all of you?” he screamed at my brothers and Daniel. “How could you let this happen?” he yelled again.

“Dad! Stop it!” I shouted. “They broke down the door for God’s sake, and they saved me. Who could have known that a lunatic would be following me into a bedroom? This is no one’s fault but Blane’s. Don’t you dare make them feel bad!” I had never so much as raised my voice at my father before. His eyes went big, and he looked dumbfounded. Then he immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry. Charlotte’s right. This is not your fault. I’m just upset,” he said apologetically.

“We all are,” Eric concurred.

I looked over at Daniel. He was distraught. There was no other word to describe the way that he looked. My heart sank, and I wanted so badly to rewind this night. We were having the best time before I went into that room.

Jack and Eric went to take the girls home. James and my dad went into the TV room to try to relax and calm down. I walked Daniel to the door. “Please, please don’t be upset. It’s over. This is the start of Christmas break. Please, Daniel, don’t let him ruin it,” I said desperately.

His eyes were all watery, which caught me by surprise.

“What if I hadn’t come through the door, Charlotte?” he asked despondently.

“But you did! Of course you did! And I’m totally fine now,” I said pleadingly.

“You’re fine? Your lip is split in half, your cheek is split open, you have bruises all over your neck, and he ripped a fistful of your hair out of your head for God’s sake! You don’t have to make this OK because it isn’t OK, Charlotte,” he said with a combination of anger and sadness in his voice.

I touched my head. “Is that why my head hurts?” I asked quietly.

“He left a fistful of your hair in the middle of the room,” he said wryly.

“I don’t have a bald spot, do I?” I said, half smiling at him.

“Of course not, and I’m not joking with you about this,” he said adamantly.

“OK, I just don’t want you to be upset,” I said, hugging him.

He hugged me so gently, and he softly rubbed the top of my head where it hurt. It felt heavenly.

“I’m not waiting until Christmas Eve, OK?” he said sternly.

“What? You’re giving me a gift?” I asked, confused. I pulled away to look at him.

He chuckled just a little. “No. Unlock your window. And there will be no funny business, Charlotte. But I’m not taking my eyes off of you tonight,” he said, stroking my head again.

“Is funny business what I think it is?” I whispered, looking up at him and smiling.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“None at all?”

“None at all. Not till you’re all healed up,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.

My brothers all said good-night, and my dad gave me a big hug. He said how sorry he was about getting mad at everyone. I told him I understood, but that it was not their fault.

Lenora had woken up from all the noise, and she gave me a few ice packs and a hot cup of tea. She hugged me and told me that I was tough as nails. She and I would bake all day tomorrow, and I was already looking forward to it. Not as much as I was looking forward to unlocking my window though, I thought shamefully. I took a quick bath to wash the smell of that animal off of me. I scrubbed my hair, and I coated my skin with my lavender lotion.

It was cold outside so I wore my thermal pajamas that were cream with little pink flowers. They were probably not what anyone would consider sexy, I giggled to myself. I brushed through my hair; thank goodness you couldn’t really notice where the hair had been yanked out of my head. It was a good thing that I had a lot of hair, I thought. I assessed my face in the mirror.

My lip was pretty gross, so obviously it would hinder all kissing for a few a days, I thought as I frowned in the mirror. My cheek actually wasn’t that bad. It made me look tough—or at least I thought it did. It would all heal in a few days. I felt so much better now that I was clean. I climbed into bed, and as I changed the channel on the TV, Daniel came through the window.

“Hey,” I whispered, and I rushed over to help him.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. Are you OK?” he asked, concerned.

“What do you mean? You think I got hurt again in the last hour?” I said surprised, climbing back into bed.

“Charlotte, does your head still hurt? Is your lip OK? Is your cheek OK? Is your throat OK from where that piece of shit choked you?” he said angrily but still in a whisper.

“’I’m all cleaned up and feeling much better,” I said as I lifted the blanket and patted the bed, inviting him to come join me.

“I need to sleep on top of the blanket,” he demanded.

“Why? We aren’t doing any, um, funny business as you called it, so sleep under the covers. It’s cold,” I said quietly.

“OK,” he agreed.

“I think you should take your jeans off. They look wet. Probably from climbing the snow-covered tree!” I said, trying not to laugh.

“No one’s pants are coming off,” he said firmly as he pulled his heavy sweater over his head, leaving just his T-shirt on. I could see his muscles through his thin shirt, and I couldn’t help but stare. I left the TV on so no one would hear us, not that I was very worried. I lived with boys; they never came in my room without knocking and waiting for me to tell them that they could come in. My dad’s room was downstairs, and he rarely ever came upstairs. But just to be safe I left it on so that I could talk to him until I fell asleep.

“Thank you for climbing my snow-covered tree to be with me,” I said as I curled into him and pressed my face to his chest.

“I’d climb a snow-covered mountain to be with you,” he said sweetly.

I looked up and tried to kiss him, but I winced when I moved my lips.

“No, Charlotte,” he said firmly and kissed the top of my head.

Darn it! There weren’t enough hours in the day to kiss him. Once I had him all to myself, I had a big, fat lip! He wasn’t going to budge on this one, so I just decided cuddling would be my best and only option. I slowly slipped my hands under his T-shirt so I could touch his skin. I paused to judge his reaction, and he didn’t stop me, so I was pleased. I just gently rubbed my hands across his stomach and pressed my head to his chest. I could do this every night of my life. He smelled strong and masculine. His body was so muscular, but his skin was so soft. I just loved how his skin felt against my hands. He hugged me so gently and rested his lips on top of my head.

I fell asleep instantly. When I woke up he was still holding me, but his eyes were open and he was looking at me, and he looked upset.

“What’s wrong? Does my face look bad?” I whispered, trying to cover my mouth at the thought of my morning breath.

He smiled. “Your face looks beautiful, but yes, your lip and cheek are swollen and bruised,” he said sadly.

I jumped up and went to the bathroom to look. It was bruised and swollen, but not horrible. I quickly brushed my teeth and jumped back on the bed. “Hey, if you think I look bad, you should see the other guy!” I said jokingly.

He actually laughed a little bit. “That’s pretty good,” he said, tenderly stroking my hair. “How’s your head?” he asked, looking into my eyes.

“It’s fine,” I said and curled back into him.

“I need to get out of here pretty soon, before your dad gets up,” he said, concerned. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

He jumped up and pulled his sweater over his head. His brown, wavy hair was tousled. He looked gorgeous this morning, but he hadn’t slept much. I could tell by his tired eyes.

“Did I keep you up last night?”

“No! I just couldn’t stop thinking about what he did to you. But sleeping next to you is the best sleep that I ever get,” he said sweetly. He pulled his shoes on, and he came around the bed to kiss me.

“Please don’t go,” I pleaded.

He sat down on my bed. “I don’t want to go, but your dad will be up soon, and so will my parents. You should go back to sleep for a few hours, OK?”

He climbed out of my window. I saw him jog across the street and go in his house. I slipped back into my bed and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I sent him a text:
I miss you already. I’m going back to sleep to dream about you. I love you. Xo.

Once I woke up, I was ready to start the day and move forward after what had happened the night before. I had slept another hour, but sleeping wasn’t the same now that Daniel had left. I looked in the mirror and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I put on some running clothes and checked my phone. There were two texts from Daniel:
Sleep tight, I love you.
And the second one said:
I don’t think you should run today. But if you insist, I’m going with you. Text me when you wake up. I love you.

I replied:
I insist, and I was hoping you would go with me. Wear something warm, it’s cold outside. Come over when you’re ready. I love you. Xo.

I quickly opened my laptop and researched all that I would need to do to apply to Notre Dame. I wondered if I should contact the track coach but decided against it. I didn’t want him to contact Coach Little after he had been so good to me. If by some long shot I got in to Notre Dame, I would talk to Coach Little myself. I was sure he would understand—at least I hoped that he would. I would just apply as a regular person.

I had good grades, and I had a lot of service hours and other extracurricular activities that I could include. I would need to write an essay about why I wanted to attend Notre Dame. I doubted that “I want to go to school with my boyfriend” would be a good enough reason. I needed to put some thought into a strong essay. I had lived in Indiana my entire life. This was home. I would make that my foundation. All of the paperwork would be time consuming, so I would do a little bit each day without anyone noticing. I printed everything out and hid it behind my bookshelves.

I heard Daniel downstairs talking to Lenora, so I grabbed my heavy sweatshirt, gloves, and my warm earband and headed downstairs. Daniel and Lenora turned to me, and I heard her gasp.

“What?” I said, looking at her.

Her eyes welled up with tears. “You’re bruised and swollen today, Charlotte,” she said, concerned.

I was getting annoyed with all of this. If I was over it, why couldn’t everyone else move on? I wanted to have a nice Christmas break. I wanted to stop talking about it.

“I can’t cover my entire face, so you will all have to just accept that I have a few bruises. I wish everyone would quit making a big deal out of it,” I said, sounding obviously irritated.

“Where are the boys? Where is Dad?” I inquired, changing the subject.

“Your dad and Jack went down to the police station to find out what charges were filed and what will happen next legally,” Lenora said.

“I’m sure the police have it handled. This doesn’t need to ruin everybody’s day.” I felt terrible that everyone was dealing with this. It was the last thing I even wanted to think about. I looked up at Daniel, and he was staring at me intently.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked quietly.

“Sure. Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asked kindly.

I looked at him with serious eyes, and I didn’t smile. “I’m sure.”

“OK,” he sighed.

Our run was quieter than usual. It felt good to be outside in the cold, crisp air. I was wearing a turtleneck under my sweatshirt, so thank goodness the bruises on my neck were covered up. The chill stung my lip at first, but I was certainly not going to say a word.

Finally, Daniel spoke. “Are you going to bake with Lenora today?” he asked, breathing heavily from our fast pace.

“Yes, I can’t wait to bake Christmas cookies. Are you going to sample for us?” I looked up and smiled.

“Of course I will.” He smiled back.

Good, he was getting in the spirit. Maybe we could finally move forward from last night’s events. “Are you still going to climb up my tree and come through the window on Christmas Eve?” I asked mischievously.

“Of course I am,” He said jovially, but then his tone changed. “Charlotte,” he said cautiously, “no one is trying to make you feel bad. We are all just worried about you.”

“I get it, Daniel, but I’m sick of everyone being worried about me. I’m good. I’m not as fragile as everyone seems to think I am. It happened, you stopped it from going further, and I just want to move on. Please,” I said quietly.

“That’s fair. I will try, OK?”