Page 109 of Just Like Home

Listening to him talk about Julianna had comforted her somehow, giving her reassurances she desperately needed. She needed to believe that this life her friend had chosen had been the right life, the life she was meant to live.

And she especially needed to believe that she hadn’t stolen her best friend’s purpose from her. Because she had stolen her spot in the coveted dance program they’d both always dreamed of.

That program, the training Charlotte received there, it had catapulted her into the next tier of professional ballet. And it could’ve done the same for Jules if Charlotte hadn’t let her jealousy get in the way.

But she couldn’t change what she’d done. She could only do better from now on. If only she could keep regret from haunting her.

She pulled into Lucy’s driveway, noticing there were two unfamiliar cars parked out front. She turned off the engine and made her way inside via the back door. She hung her bag on the hook in the mudroom and looked around on a nearby shelf for something suitable to put the flowers in. The sound of laughter mixed with the smell of Chinese food. That, she had sampled, but typically only the healthier dishes, usually prepared especially for her.

“Charlotte, is that you?” Lucy’s voice rang out from the living room.

“Yeah, it’s just me.” Charlotte had to pass through the living room to go upstairs, but she thought she could do that without causing too much of a disruption.

Lucy appeared in the doorway. “Finally! We were waiting for you before we start.”

Charlotte frowned. “Start what?”

“Girls’ night.” Haley pushed past Lucy, into the kitchen, followed by Quinn and Betsy.

“It’s tradition,” Lucy said.

Charlotte now realized the unopened Chinese food containers were sitting on the kitchen island next to a stack of plates. Five plates.

Was there a plate for her?

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Charlotte said.

All four of the other women stared back at her.

“Did you hear the part where we said we were waiting for you?” Lucy asked. “Grab a plate.”

“Wait, can you eat Chinese?” Quinn asked. “Lucy said you have restrictions.”

“I do,” Charlotte said. “I’m sorry.”

Lucy held up a hand. “Guys, give me a little credit. I ordered yours separate. Everything is steamed.” She pushed two containers toward Charlotte. “But if you don’t eat an eggroll, I’m not sure we can still be friends.”

The other girls chatted and took plates, opening containers and dishing up the food, family-style. Everyone took what they wanted, sharing their dinners as if it were perfectly normal.

Charlotte only stared.

“You okay?” Quinn asked as she rounded the island to pour herself a glass of iced tea.

Charlotte nodded, unable to speak around the lump at the back of her throat. She’d never been invited to a girls’ night. She didn’t go out socially, and she’d certainly never been included in something that resembled a middle school slumber party.

Each of the women wore pajamas, had their hair up in buns, and looked like they were here for the duration. It set something off inside Charlotte, something like gratitude.

“Pretty flowers.” Quinn faced her now, a tease of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Charlotte looked at the bouquet, admired it, remembered the moment Cole handed it to her, and then, she was sure—blushed.

All at once, the four other women burst out in chatter. A chorus of “I told you they were for her!” and “You need to fill us in on what’s going on” and “You’ve been holding out on me” rang out, filling the air with what Charlotte could only describe as obnoxious excitement.

“You should’ve seen him in the flower shop,” Quinn said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Coach like that.”

“Like what?” Charlotte turned away, opening the cupboard in search of a vase, but really needing to escape four pairs of watchful eyes.

Stacks of bowls stared back at her.

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