Page 60 of The Heartbreak Blitz

“Here,” she says, pointing at a dilapidated house. The front gate is askew. A new streetlight sits outside, illuminating every broken floorboard in the porch. The TV in the front room is the single source of light in the entire place.

“You live here?”

I realize my mistake when I’ve barely stopped the car and she’s throwing the car door open.

I reach over, but she’s already out of the seat. I put the car in Park and get out, blocking her way. “Sorry, Charley, I was…surprised.”

Little things start to click. She never has any money. Borrowing Kenna’s dress. Never wanting me to see her place.

But this house looks like it’s two seconds away from being condemned. Why would the college let her live here?

“I need to go inside, and you can’t come. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She wrestles out of my grip and starts running toward the front gate.

“Charley!”

She spins, placing her finger to her lips with wide eyes.

I run my hands through my hair, desperation tangling itself under my skin. None of this feels right. I can’t let her go into this house just like I couldn’t let her walk home in the middle of the night by herself.

If I’d known she was staying here, I wouldn’t have let her come back so many times.

Fear and guilt slam into me. I should’ve paid better attention.

“You can’t go in there,” I hiss, marching toward her. “What if it isn’t safe?”

A tiny smile tugs the corner of her mouth up. “Did you know that Superman owns a pair of Chuck Norris pajamas?” I finally get to her, and she wraps her fingers in the hem of the T-shirt I threw on, trying to smile. “I’m fine, Cade. This is my house. I grew up here. I live here.” She swallows.

“You live here?”

She nods. “Let me get my dad situated, and I’ll come out and explain. Okay?”

“Your dad?”

She nods again, and I’m only a little more at ease when she walks away. The front gate creaks in her hands, and she leaves it open—hopefully, a good sign that she’ll keep her word.

For a while, I stand outside, my breath billowing in front of my face, before I get too cold, return to my car, and turn the heat up.

I watch the front window where I saw the light. It never changes. Charley never walks in front of it. Her dad never looks out the window to see if I’m here.

This whole time, I assumed she lived somewhere else. I thought she had a college roommate, but I never asked about her because I mistakenly assumed that Charley was so shy she probably wasn’t close with her.

She and I had skipped to the deep stuff quickly. How do I know her mom died giving birth to her, but I didn’t know she grew up in Warner? How could someone who was the most important part of your life for the last few weeks suddenly feel like a stranger?

Thirty minutes tick by. Then forty. I alternate between checking my phone and peering in the front window to see if she’s actually going to come out again.

Relief floods me when I spot the front door opening and closing behind her. She’s still dressed in my clothes. She gets in the car on the passenger side, and I turn toward her.

“I thought maybe you would leave…”

“Me? Never.”

“I lied to you. Or, I guess, held back the truth is more accurate. I just wanted you to see me without…all this. You were the first one to see past my shields, and I didn’t want to give you a reason to act like I was invisible.”

“This is why you never wanted me to pick you up?”

She nods. “I’m sorry.”

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