Page 51 of Of Course, Cutie

“Why were you fucking an old dude anyway? You know you can do way better than that, right? You know you could have any guy at this party, don’t you, Charlie?” Simon placed his body squarely in my path, blocking my escape. “Namely, me.”

My control collapsed under the weight of my rage. “Shut the fuck up, Simon! You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Simon laughed and rubbed his jaw. “Oh, I see, you’re just another little girl with daddy issues.”

My hands formed fists at my sides. This motherfucker didn’t know when to quit. “Get the hell out of my way.”

“What is it, Charlie? Did your daddy not love you enough? Did he not pay attention to you because you don’t have a dick? Are you desperate to fill that void in your life, so you fucked the first old guy that was messed up enough to touch you?” Simon’s cold, dark eyes glinted with malice and jealousy.

Rage burned through me and blurred my vision, and my fist connected with Simon’s stupid jawline before I even realized what I was doing. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I was screaming, and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.

Simon reeled back and clutched his face. “What the FUCK! You crazy bitch!” He was yelling right back at me, and now everyone in attendance gaped at us and pulled their phones out.

All these assholes wanted a show. None of these assholes gave a single fuck about me. They weren’t my friends. I didn’t belong here, and I never had. I shoved past Simon, and the sea of assholes parted to let me through. I was almost to the front door when a hand gripped my arm.

“Charlotte, baby girl, what happened?” Matteo was shirtless, and his dark eyes were wild with worry.

I shook him off. “I’m not coming to your damn parties anymore!” I wrenched the front door open and let out a sigh of relief when the icy February air hit my face. Tears burned the corners of my eyes as I dug my keys from my jacket pocket and hurried to my car.

Before I had the chance to peel out of Matteo’s driveway, he slid into the passenger seat, wrapped in a ridiculous fur coat that definitely didn’t belong to him. “Start talking, love.”

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him to fuck off like everyone else, but this was Matteo. We talked. “Mattie, I punched an asshole because he said shit about Burke and my dad.”

“Charlotte!” Matteo’s mouth dropped open. “I love that for you! It’s so badass!” He waved his hands. “Okay, okay, keep going. Tell me the feeling stuff!”

“Everything hurts, and I feel fucking shattered!” I leaned against his shoulder and sobbed.

Matteo stroked my hair and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head. “So be shattered, love. Be shattered and ugly broken, and then get your ass back up and build something even better.”

I sobbed harder and choked out, “Okay, Mattie.” He held me until my sobs quieted, and I finally whispered, “You’re so damn amazing. I love you.”

“I love you, too, beautiful, and so does your sexy man. From what you’ve told me, he’s not going to be able to stay away. You need to have a little patience with each other and the world. Eventually, the people that love you will understand and want your happiness.”

I sniffled. “You would know, huh? You had to wait almost your whole life for the people you love to want your happiness.” I sat up, wiping my tears. I’d heard all of Matteo’s stories about being bullied in elementary school and his very Catholic family struggling to accept his sexuality when he came out. He knew all about being shattered and rebuilding something beautiful. He knew all about being patient. “Matteo,” I looked my best friend right in the eye, calling him by his real name. “You are a beautiful person.”

“Aw, thanks, Charlie.” He kissed my forehead one more time. “Are you going to be okay?”

I let out a deep, shuddering breath. “Not for a little while, but eventually.” I grimaced when I looked over at Matteo and registered the reason for his shirtless attire. “Were you hooking up with Jonah, and I just screwed that up for you?”

Matteo smirked at me. “We were finished.”

“Oh my god! How was it?” I wanted to know. Love of any kind made me feel sick with missing Burke, but I still wanted to know.

Matteo cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Nope. I’ll tell you all about it in a couple of weeks when you’ve got your pretty little head screwed back on straight. Because when I tell you this story, I want you squealing and cheering, not crying and giving me that fake-ass smile.” His eyes swept up and down my face. “Go home, sweetie. I’m sorry I made you come. I wanted to help, but you need more time to be broken, huh?”

“Ugh. I think so.”

“Okay.” Matteo leaned over and hugged me. “We’ll do another TV binging spa day next week, just us.” He stroked my hair and gave me a sad smile. “I’m going to head back in there, but text me when you get home so that I know you’re safe. Love you.”

“Love you, boo.”

Matteo slipped out of my car and waved as I pulled out of his driveway. He was right. I needed to be broken for a little while longer. Maybe I still needed to be broken from losing my dad, too. Maybe I’d tried too hard to hold myself together after he died.

As I drove home, I resigned myself to be fully broken for a few weeks, to feel all of my losses — my father, Burke, my innocence. And then, after I’d felt it all, I’d pick up my pieces and build something better.

25

Charlie

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