Page 53 of Charlie
“Can you give us an example?”
“Maybe your family had fixed plans for your future and the moment you break away, and it doesn’t fit their agenda, they get critical of your choices.”
“Yes.” Conor gave me a sad nod. “We’ve seen this over and over. That’s why I only extend invitations to people I believe are strong enough to withstand the outside pressure. Because let’s face it, sometimes, it’s not jealousy or the need to control that drives criticism. Often it’s a friend or family member who is genuinely concerned and listening to horrible gossip that isn’t true. They get confused and make accusations. Remember the times angry and confused people have accused us of being a cult.”
People around me laughed and River repeated the joke I’d heard a number of times over the five months I’d been here. “People need to learn the difference between being cultivated and being part of a cult.”
Conor spoke again, “But what about what Charles just said? Are we obligated to follow the path that our family has laid out for us?”
I loved it when he referred to something I’d said as if my words were important.
“Our destiny is our own and it’s our obligation to make the most of it.” Conor swung his hand to the twins. “Some are drawn to inspire others by stepping into the bright spotlight and sharing their gift.” His body turned to me. “While others prefer to stay out of the spotlight and work on serving justice to victims of international crime syndicates.”
I had told him that was my dream one time when he’d pushed me to define my goals in life, but the truth was that I wasn’t sure what I wanted work-wise. I enjoyed teaching much more than I would have thought possible, but there were also days when I missed Solver Industries.
If only my grandfather hadn’t closed his mind to what I was doing in Ireland. He had made accusations of Conor being a fraud without having even met the man. It was so typical of my grandfather to dismiss something without taking a second look. He was used to making quick decisions all day long, and decades of people sucking up to him had given him a sad God complex, where he thought everyone was interested in his opinion, and ready to follow his directives. Well, I wasn’t! I could think for myself and I’d stand by my friends here in Ireland.
“How do we deal with the critics?” Conor gave us time to think.
My way of dealing with my grandfather had been to cut him off. I hadn’t called or emailed him in months. At first it had made me feel empowered that I was out from under his constant pressure, but at that moment, with my being already sad and confused about Liv, a new thought entered my mind. I had accused my grandfather of not caring about me, but… thoughts were running through my mind so fast that I couldn’t pinpoint what bothered me. Conor and the others kept discussing ways to set boundaries, cutting off people, and taking control of one’s life, but my mind was searching to understand the gnawing feeling inside me that I was missing something. And then it came to me. I’d felt loved when Ciara called to check up on me this morning. I’d even told Liv that it was a sign of how amazing the group was. So why was it that when my grandfather left call after call, I ignored them and took it as him badgering me? The last time I’d spoken to him, he’d been angry with me for getting involved with the group. He had called it a sect and told me I was naïve. I rubbed my forehead as if I could massage clarity into my thoughts. My grandfather was my closest relative and even though we disagreed, I might regret cutting him off. Could I accuse him of not caring about me while at the same time ignoring his attempts to connect? I sighed with a heavy heart and promised myself that one of these days, I’d give him a call and see if we could somehow have a conversation without fighting.
After the initial discussion, we were asked to divide into study groups where we’d do role-playing to practice cutting off people who didn’t support our lifestyle.
“You might feel that you owe your family and friends to listen.” Conor’s gaze landed on me. “You might even think you’re in love, but trust me when I say that no physical pleasure can beat the prize of mental clarity that comes with being in charge of your own destiny.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to skip this part. I don’t feel good,” I told Conor.
With a worried expression he placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me to a corner. “You’re upset about Liv.” As always, he could read my mind. “I get it, but think about what I said. Is it possible that you projected your ideas of a girlfriend on to her? You don’t know her, Charles.”
I was looking down, focusing on the pattern in the oriental rug on the floor.
“It’s a powerful feeling when someone laughs at your jokes and dismisses your flaws as charming. Especially, for someone like you who’s never had a partner before, but I wouldn’t be a friend to you if I didn’t warn you that no relationship would be like that long-term. There will be fights and heartbreak. Are you ready to deal with the downsides of a relationship, hmm? You know you lack skills when it comes to communicating and picking up on social cues. I have no doubt you can get there if we work together, but I’m also sure that now isn’t the right time for you to go all in. I worry you’ll end up burned and bitter if you do.” He pulled me in for a long hug. “I’m only trying to protect you here.”
“I know.”
“Tell you what. The worst part is staring at your phone hoping she’ll call you. Why don’t you give it to me?” He reached out his palm.
When I hesitated, he spoke in a soft voice. “You don’t want to make the mistake of calling her. It’s best if you give me your phone.”
Looking from his palm to his face, I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m keeping my phone.”
Conor’s face left no doubt that he wasn’t happy with me. “Do you not trust my judgment?”
“Yes.”
“Then give me your phone.” His voice got insistent and people were looking over at us.
I took a step back. “No. My phone is private and I’m keeping it.”
He looked shocked and disturbed by my unwillingness to do as he told me, but I’d been pushed too far today.
Turning on his heel, Conor walked away from me and I retreated to my room with a feeling of having burned a bridge.
No, that’s silly. It was just a small disagreement. Tomorrow everything will be fine.
Just like Conor had predicted, I kept looking at my phone longing to hear from Liv. She had called me her boyfriend, but with the way we’d ended things today, I wasn’t sure if that was off. Obviously, Conor was right in saying that I was horrible at being in a relationship and that it was just a matter of time before Liv wouldn’t find my issues cute. I hadn’t even lasted two days before making a mess of things by overthinking and doubting the feelings between us. If I was a normal person, I would have known how to talk to her about the confusing thoughts in my brain, but that was part of my condition. When I couldn’t make sense of something, I would shut down and hide from the world, like right now when I was in my room while my friends were together in the great room.
Stripping out of my clothes, I got into bed to write in my journal as a way to analyze what had happened today. It was a tool I’d used since childhood and when I was done, I wrote and deleted a number of text messages to Liv without actually sending any of them. I tried reading in a book, but I couldn’t focus and my tics were worse than ever. Finding the meditation app on my phone, I used it to calm myself down.
