CHAPTER 2
AFTER THE DIAGNOSIS
“Charlotte, grandma is sick.” My mother said looking at me. I set down my vampire novel and looked at her.
“What is it this time?” I asked, expecting to hear her usual flu-like symptoms.
“She’s very sick,” My mother took another breath, closing her eyes as she did so. She did that a lot. Breathe in, close your eyes. Breathe out, open them. “Very, very sick.”
“I got that point, Mom. My advice is some chicken noodle soup and that stupid pink lacy blanket.” I reopened my book which was promptly snatched from my hands and thrown on the floor. “Mom! What the heck?”
“This isn’t just another cold, Charlotte! It’s more serious than that!” I looked at my mother with her estranged, tearful expression.
“Then what is it?” I asked, trying to sound like I was really interested, not expecting bad news. She put her face in her hands.
“It’s Alzheimer’s.”
My father parked in the patient pickup space near the sliding doors. A
friendly looking nurse wheeled out my elderly grandmother to my father who
now stood holding open the passenger door.
“I said I’m fine! I swear, these doctors just want you to spend more money than you can afford to.”
“Have a nice day, Mrs. Gregor.”
“Pfft. Charles? Get over here and help me now!”
“Yes, Mother.” My dad helped her into the car and she turned to face me.
“Charlotte.”
“Grandma.” I was tempted to just reply with ‘Elizabeth’, but I knew I’d never hear the end of that scolding. I sat in the back looking out the window, listening to my grandmother complain about how poorly my father raised his only daughter.
By the time I walked in through my own front door, I was so sick of hearing about how much of a failure I was, I almost forgot the emotional wreck my mother was. My father immediately ran to her side, comforting her, telling her it would all be okay. I trudged up the stairs and slipped into the recesses of my room. My own little sanctuary.
My room was nothing special. White walls. Cream carpet. A fan and a window. My white bed with the fluffy blanket and pillow. The white washed dressers on two of my walls. The only thing that wasn’t at least some shade of white or pale like it, were my sketches hung up on every wall, and my lovely closet full of black clothes, with colors thrown in every now and again. I don’t
know why I wore a lot of black. I just did. I laid down on my bed and began
reading where I had left off earlier today in my story of a far off land where magical stones controlled all, and they were lost, now to be found again by a teenage boy and his companions.
“Charlotte. Wake up. It’s time for school.” I groaned and opened my eyes, looking into the face of my mother. I got up as she exited, and threw on my outfit. Black cotton mini dress, some red and black striped leggings, and my favorite piece de resistance: my black combat boots. I always over accessorize. Thirty odd stretch black bracelets, a few necklaces with random charms, four different rings, and a simple black ribbon choker. I pinned back my platinum blond bangs with some Little Batty hair berets and kicked open my door. I tromped down the stairs, my hair flapping behind me like a small cape. My hair ended about four inches past my shoulders, and was tipped purple. I hit the bottom of the stairs and started out the door.
“No, no young lady, get right back in here!” My father called. I paused as he came around the corner. “You are not driving today. I’m taking you.” I rolled my eyes, slumping back against the door jam.
“You promised I could drive.”
“Well, I’m taking you, seeing as how what happened last week.” He decided, grabbing his brown briefcase. I knew he was referring to the fact I had driven after curfew and gotten pulled over. And the fact I had a guy with me.
“Fine,” I muttered, heading for the sleek white car that beeped as I
approached it. My dad got in the car in unison with me, and immediately I
said, “It was just Nathaniel.”
“No, it was just a boy. And at that, you and just a boy alone in the car at one in the morning.”
“Daddy, we were coming back from the meet. I told you, his car broke down so I offered to take him home. One of my taillights went out, and so I got pulled over. Nothing happened. Nathaniel and I are just friends. We’re just Quizbowl companions. Schoolmates.” I emphasized the ‘just friends’, ‘members’, and ‘schoolmates’. My father looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine, but don’t ever pull anything like that again.” I laughed as we turned down the next street and the usual procession of students lined the sidewalks.
“Bye, Daddy. I love you!” I waved as my father pulled away. Once he was out of sight, a familiar voice carried above all the rest.
“Yo, Charlie!” I turned around and saw him. Nathaniel was taller than all the boys in our school, standing at least six foot five. He was thin and had shoulder length shaggy brown hair that reminded me of an oak tree’s trunk. He was the only other teen in our high school who wore as much black as I did. Today, he wore torn up blue jeans and his black hoodie that had holes ripped in it all over. He also sported his wallet chain that reached his knees, and his worn out skater shoes that were black and gray. “Word.”
“Word, Nate.” We did our usual morning handshake with a few extra moves and headed for our row of outside lockers.
“Did your dad really flip when he saw it was me with you?” He asked, shifting the heavy book bag on his shoulder. I nodded.
“Yeah, but I can drive again once he calms down completely.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t of minded if you were with Benjamin.” The tone of sarcasm in his voice made me nearly gag.
“Oh, please. I’m sure he still would’ve flipped out.” I said carelessly. Nathaniel looked at me as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth.
“Dare to test that theory?” He questioned me seriously. I slammed my locker door shut.
“What’s the big deal? Seriously, you’re both guys I go to school with. Completely level playing field.” I looked up at him. It was his turn to laugh.
“I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. He’s from the pretty palace. I like skateboarding. He likes driving his dad’s fancy sports cars. I like reading. He likes being read to. There’s lots of reasons he’d sit cozily on your father’s pedestal. I’d feel right at home however on the ejector seat.” We both laughed as the door to language swung open.
“Please. I’m sure my dad likes you. It’s just you’re a guy who happens to sit with me in every class since last spring and shares my car on the weekdays, speaking of which it’s your turn to cover gas.”
“I don’t my paycheck until this Friday!” He exclaimed. I looked at him,
setting my bag on the floor.
“Tough.” He flopped forward onto his desk, making an exhausted noise. I changed the subject, so as to pull him out of his sudden depression. “So, we had to pick my grandma up from the hospital yesterday. And for some reason, we used my car.”
“Ew, now your car is going to stink of toilet water.”
“It’s called perfume. Lots of people wear it.”
“Yes, but remember, Charlotte, you can’t expect the weasel to know such high class things.” Nathaniel and I both turned to see Benjamin standing there. He was almost as tall as Nathaniel, but with short blond hair that would meet an army general’s approval and tan skin. He had a good athletic build and wore only the best mall clothing available, looking like an ideal model.
“Speaking of lots of people wearing it, Charlie,” Nathaniel leaned over and took a deep breath of the space next to Benjamin. “It seems Benny boy is wearing Princess Pansy, a special this month from the Rich Brat store.” We cracked up laughing as Benjamin walked away. “So, what was your grandma there for yesterday?” Nathaniel asked, pulling his notebook out from his bulky bag.
“Oh, yeah, that,” I sopped laughing, before continuing. “She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” The look on Nathaniel’s face became sympathetic.
“Charlie, that’s horrible. I’m sorry.” He whispered. I drummed my pencil on the desktop as I thought about it. As it finally sunk in.
“Yeah. I know.” I became silent as our teacher’s chipper voice rang out.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, IM me tonight.”
“All right. Check ya later, Charlie!”
“Bye, Nate!” I got into my mother’s car, and looked at her quizzical face.
“And he was...?”
“Nathaniel.” My mother made a small, disapproving noise. I looked out the window, and watched as he rolled down the walk on his skateboard.
