For once Jackie didn’t say anything. She looked back at the page, at the expansive gray mess and the streaks of emotion fighting for space. Then she pulled Charlotte into a tight hug, her fingers clenching the back of her shirt.
Charlotte pressed her face against Jackie’s shoulder, relief and security overwhelming her alongside a violent pang of love and gratitude. Warm burgundy red again, all Jackie Slaughter.
They sat like that for a very long time. Then they resumed packing.
“So, Baroness Slaughter,” Charlotte spouted in her best attempt at the queen’s English. “Pray tell, did you engage in scandalous conduct with Lady Dorantes?”
“How perfectly impertinent for you to inquire, Duchess Thorne!”
—
@HeinUniversity, 1:57 PM: The #HeinRandC2018 committee would like to apologize for our selection of Roger Ludermore as this year’s commencement speaker. His remarks do not reflect the values of the Hein community. We hope the Class of 2018 will forgive us for this error in judgment.
TEXT MESSAGE FROM NINA DORANTES TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 2:01 PM: I’m heading out for my flight, please forgive me for not saying good-bye. It sounds like you’ve had a wild twenty-four hours! Can we FaceTime this week so you can tell me all about it? If you need some cash this summer, I’d love to commission a Charlotte Thorne illustration of an orchid for my next tattoo…
(Message not delivered.)
TEXT MESSAGE FROM REECE KRUEGER TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 2:15 PM: ready to hit the road?
(Message not delivered.)
Empty cups went in a shopping bag, dirty clothes into suitcases. Jackie stuffed the leftover snacks in a tote bag for Charlotte to take with her on the road. The ritual helped distract from their impending good-bye. Unlike almost every other time they’d packed up a dorm room together, they weren’t guaranteed to see each other again at the end of the summer.
“I’ll call you when I get off work tomorrow,” Jackie promised. She shoved the empty Oreos package into the trash bag.
“You don’t have to do that,” Charlotte said. She collected their used towels and put them in a neat pile on top of her dresser. “Plus I want to be the one to call you.”
Her fingers drifted automatically to her phone in her back pocket. She reminded herself again that it was off. It would probably take weeks for her to get used to living outside the radius of Roger’s whims. Without his fragile ego at the forefront of her mind, she might even be able to understand her emotions.
Good timing too. The events of this weekend would take ages to process.
“I’m holding you to that,” Jackie said. “We’ll nail down those dates for you to come hang out in L.A. I’m buying roller skates.”
Charlotte laughed at the idea of Jackie gliding down the Santa Monica boardwalk, her French braids peeking out from under a helmet. “Hard yes to L.A., soft maybe to skates.”
“Maybe you can come when Nina visits too! That’ll be a fun new dynamic.” Jackie winked. “And next week you are…?”
Charlotte repeated her marching orders. “Texting Amy about getting brunch, and calling your dad for help breaking my lease.”
“Very good. The time has come for you to couch surf. We can all rotate hosting you, I’ll put together a calendar.” Charlotte’s unease must have shown on her face because Jackie gave her a firm poke in the nose. “Do not give me that look! Let us love you! You can stay with me as long as you want, and I’m sure Reece will say the same.”
It would take practice for Charlotte to be comfortable accepting help, but she had to start somewhere. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. She didn’t even tack on a self-deprecating joke.
“I wish I could put you in my suitcase and take you with me.” Jackie held the bag open and offered it to her. “Do you think you could fit in here?”
“I’d have to become a lot more flexible very quickly,” Charlotte drawled. “I wish we had more nachos.”
“Go see Terry again before you hit the road.” Jackie zipped the suitcase and toed on her sneakers. “Maybe he can hire you to fix his awful merch.”
The room looked stark without their personal effects scattered across every flat surface. Charlotte folded up their used bedding and rolled down the blackout curtain. Once again it was just another anonymous dorm room with standard-issue furniture. The ceiling bulb wheezed overhead, casting a yellowish glow over the empty walls.
Over the decades, millions of adventures had unfolded here. Hundreds of occupants and thousands of nights. Parties and study groups and hookups and homesick phone calls and discoveries and mistakes.
Charlotte leaned against the door, her arms crossed over her chest. “Do you think it’ll be like this at our ten-year?”
She expected a dark joke in response. Instead, Jackie tilted her head to the side in thought. “Yes and no. This place will be the same. Who knows who we’ll be?”
The question could have been ominous, but Jackie smiled at her, and Charlotte smiled back. She knew what she meant. They were still at the beginning.
Jackie stood up and patted her pockets. “I should head out.”
“Wallet, phone, charger, car keys,” Charlotte chanted.
“Got it, got it, got it somewhere, got ’em.”
“Did you remember your sunglasses?”
Jackie took her cheap shades out of her jacket pocket and popped them on like a headband. “Of course.”
Charlotte leaned against her bare bed and wove together her emotional Kevlar. She hated good-byes. Good-byes called for something meaningful to say, some profound unburdening of the soul. What Jackie meant to her went beyond platitudes about platonic love.
There was so much she wanted to tell her, so many things she wanted to thank her for. Not just for this weekend. For nearly eight years of friendship. For kicking her ass and forcing her to stand up straight. Jackie was her hero, and the annoying big sister Charlotte never asked for. She was family.
They stood opposite each other for a quiet moment, Jackie with her suitcase and Charlotte by the bed. She studied Charlotte’s face, the worry lines and the uncomfortable tightness at her mouth. “You’re going to be okay, Char,” her best friend promised. “You did good this weekend.”
Charlotte snorted. “I puked on the President’s Lawn.”
Jackie wheeled her suitcase to the door. “Well, he deserves it for choosing such a shitty commencement speaker.” She swung it open and stepped out into the hallway, the wheels quietly whisking from the linoleum onto the carpet.
