𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He looked nothing like Morgan.

Morgan was pale, sickly skinny, with greasy bleached hair, and horrible style. He was practically a stranger beside his mother. Tan skin, lean build, dark brown hair, and an annoyingly good style. He wore a white button-up and beige shorts compared to his mother's yellow sun dress which was too big for her stick body.

He walks up to Mom and Morgan with his hands in his pockets and his face withholding a stoic expression. I still watch from the car as he greets my mother and I am surprised she's let me sit here so long. Usually, when Morgan would visit she'd call me to greet her as soon as she got there. I'd always have to act happy and smile and give her the same insufferable hug that smelt like a million cigarettes.

I would sit in the car for 3 minutes. Then Mom finally calls me with a smile and a wave. All three of them look at me. And they continue staring even when I'm out of the car and stand amongst them awkwardly. Morgan attempts to save us from the awkwardness though by pulling me into another one of her cigarette hugs.

She ooo's so high pitched I think I can feel my ears bleed. And while she holds me close to her wrinkly exposed chest, all I can think of is when their stay will be over.

"You have gotten so big Char!" she exclaims to then let me go so she can ruffle my braids and make them fuzzy.

I hate it when she calls me Char. It is short for charcoal because she would say my soul was black. But that is only because it's been longer than the weed brownies that I have had a distaste for her. And I think I have made that somewhat clear to her. She's just delusional.

I laugh awkwardly at her greeting and let out a shaky Hi for some satisfaction. When she lets me go I run to stand beside my mom as Morgan and her son stare at us.

Stupidly, I caught the eyes of the son. We make eye contact that he doesn't bother to break from but I do. And then suddenly I regret even exiting the car.

Morgan looks off to her son and slaps his shoulder,

"So are you going to say hello to the girl or keep staring at her?"

Why does Morgan always have to make things worse?

I look back to the boy but with every millisecond he withholds his greeting to me my cheeks get hot.

I already don't like him. And I know I'm right in my judgment because we haven't spoken a word to one another and he's already making me uncomfortable.

I feel like my mind will explode before he talks. His bored expression uplifts to a fake smile and a Hi is now exchanged. There is no handshake or hug.

Not only is he pretty ... but rude.

"Jackson." He continues, "I'm Jackson."

I solely nod at his mediocre first impression. I decide to reciprocate the same energy he has because it is obvious that if Morgan hadn't said anything he wouldn't have spoken. It makes me wonder if he even wants to be here in the first place.

I resort to standing in silence until my mom pokes me a bit. I look up to her and she's eyeing me for me to introduce myself as well. I mentally groan,

"I'm Charlotte." I fake miserably.

I find myself to be really good at reading people. I check mannerisms and I can easily tell when someone is disinterested. Jackson stands beside his mother, continuing to have his hands in his pockets while slightly slouching and looking at everything but nothing at the same time.

He better not mess up my vacation.

After some more silence between us all my mom sends me to go get our bags. Morgan sends Jackson to get theirs at the same time which leads us in parallel with one another at the cars.

Even though Jackson has already gotten on my nerves, I find myself fighting the urge to look over at him and maybe get a glimpse of his side profile. He may be ignorant but not ugly. Which makes me wonder where he got his looks from...Maybe a distant relative?

I grab two light suitcases to be the first into the house. I want to be first because it feels euphoric. When me and my mom first started coming here we would race inside. The winner gets ice cream. The loser has to pay for it. I would always win.

I take my time getting the luggage because my mom still stands with Morgan talking. I want to wait for her so we can do the race we've been doing for almost a decade. There isn't a thought in my mind that presents the possibility she'd forget.

But as I'm waiting, Jackson takes it upon himself to go first. And my mom still stands. She doesn't even notice him because she's so busy talking to Morgan.

How are the Hayes already ruining summer?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It gets dark quickly. By now, everyone has gone off to their vices. My mom and Morgan are downstairs cooking and talking while Jackson and I are supposed to be getting ready in our rooms for dinner. But I am caught up trying to call my best friends who are not answering.

I tried Mackenzie first, and for the 1000th time, my phone has taken me to voicemail. I go back and forth between her and Cleo and it's the same. I go check their social media and it is nothing but tumbleweeds. For Mackenize she hasn't posted since last year and Cleo posted last week but it is just a photo with her family.

I contemplate stopping by their houses but I don't want to be creepy. I tried an Instagram video call for Cleo but still, she didn't pick up. Maybe she's busy. Maybe they're both busy.

I had done so much internet stalking that the knock on my door scared me. I jump up to my door and open it, heaving for the breath that had been taken out of me by the knocker who was none other than Jackson.

He stares me down for seconds until his eyebrows burrow, "What's wrong?"

And to his question, suddenly I feel a jolt inside of me filled with sole resentment. What response comes to mind is, You are what's wrong. You and your annoying mom are ruining my summer.

But I don't say this. Because somewhere deep down, I feel he's being somewhat sincere even though he speaks through another stoic facial expression.

"That's something I should ask you." I say, "Why did you knock?"

It is odd how much this guy stares. So much so, that I begin to take that as an answer. If he knocked just to stare at me it shouldn't be wrong of me to find him creepy.

He clears his throat after what feels like forever,

"Dinner is ready." He says, with his thumb pointing behind him. And then awkwardly he walks away and down the hall. And I won't lie, my eyes followed him as yet another outfit complimented him perfectly. It was white dress pants and a navy blue polo.

Honestly, I need his wardrobe.

I leave my room and follow him to the front of the house. I was surprised when I walked into the dining room to see its table filled like in the movies. I'd scoff happily and turn to my mom who was still moving pans of food to the table.

"Wow Mom, this is —"

"—Beautiful? I know!" My mom interrupts squealing happily, "You guys can sit down and start on your plates."

And we did. I made sure to sit on the opposite side of the table where I'd infer my mom would sit. And then I take a paper plate from the stack on the table and I dig into the selection of food in front of me.

My mom cooks well ... perfect actually. I don't eat her food, I inhale it. I take the broccoli and the rolls and the mac and cheese and a steak she brings out last even though it still sizzles in the pan and pile it all on my plate.

But when it's time to for dinner to start my guess is proved wrong. Morgan sits by me and my mom sits with Jackson. And after we gather our food and say grace I can't help but think if their seating arrangements were all in some way getting to know us better. Because from across me and Morgan, my mom laughs and talks with Jackson. And what really gets me is that he does it back ...  slightly proving my theory from earlier wrong too.

Look, I know it's wrong to happily expect people to have a bad time. But with Morgan, it is so easy to do. As I sit by Morgan all I want to do is leave. I barely even eat on my plate as I am saving my lungs from cancer.

Why did my mom think this was a good idea?

"So, Char, how was school? Any drama?" Morgan abruptly asks as she disgustingly chews her steak as if it's hurting her. I try not to gag and instead dryly answer her question,

"School was fine. No drama." To this, she nods.

"Well, that's expected of you anyway sweetheart. You've never really been the argumentative type." She hums, "Well school for me was just fine as well."

I raise an eyebrow, "School?"

At my confusion she giggles, "Yeah I went back to college...well technically law school. I'm past college." She shrugs as she cuts at her steak, "I am making up for past mistakes."

"So you want to become a lawyer?" I ask.

"Yeah Char, but I had to drop out sophomore year to have that kid," She thinks, pointing to Jackson devouring my mom's mashed potatoes.

"Some people aren't as strong as your mom." She says, "We got pregnant around the same time but she stuck around...and for many more years too. Went to medical school and everything."

Now disappointingly this is where I start to feel bad. Hearing Morgan speaking highly of my mom was a first. I've never heard a good thing coming out of that woman's mouth but today. It seems that genuinely she appreciates my mom and I am nothing but a package deal when it comes to my Mom. If she likes someone, then I do too. Even if that person is like Morgan.

I then looked over to Jackson and to my surprise he had already been staring which made me feel even worse. He'd probably see in real-time the regret burning inside of me. So I decided to smile at him and make amends in my head. And it is fulfilled because he smiles back.

"So, Char, since you're of age are you gonna be a debutante this year?" Morgan asks, pulling back my attention quickly.

"You know about debutantes?" I ask.

"What? do you think I living under a rock?" Morgan laughs, "I know what a debutante is."

I raise my eyebrows in hopes she'll tell me more, but she just goes back to her steak.

And while she has me wondering I get a phone call.

I look down at my phone that sits on my lap. The contact read Mackenzie.

"Charlotte, no phones at the table." My mom scolds. But it didn't faze me because someone finally called me. And as my phone kept buzzing my anticipation grew inside of me.

"Mom, can I answer this real quick? It's one of the girls. I told them I was home." I reason which causes my mom to purse her lips before saying she'll give me five minutes.

I rushed out of the house to answer. I slipped out the backdoor and sat on its porch steps. Hitting the answer button as soon as the wind hit the hems of my dress.

I answer cheery and full of hope to hear from my best friend,

"Hey, Kenzie!"

"...Hi Charlotte." then silence falls but I break it instantly.

"How are things?" I ask.

"Fine..." Then I hear Kenzie sigh, "Charlotte...can you stop blowing up my phone?"

It is weird how my heart drops in my moment. Entirely too bluntly for my liking.

I chuckle awkwardly, "Oh yeah of course." I say, "I'm sorry."

And then silence falls again that I don't dare try and pick up. I tap my beige wedges against the wooden porch and wait for her next words.

"Charlotte..." She begins but stops. There is a pause before she begins again,

"Charlotte, I don't think we should be friends anymore."