Jen Frederick's Blog, page 21
December 5, 2013
Charlotte Chronicles VII
In the heat of the release of Last Hit, I almost completely forgot about The Charlotte Chronicles which would have been bad, right? I can just imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth and that’s just from me!
Before we jump in to the section, though, I wanted to thank each blogger who has featured Last Hit this week. It rose to #1 on the Romantic Suspense list at Amazon and lingers around 2 and 3 right now. I know we wouldn’t be getting the word out without the help of those bloggers and tomorrow I’ll share of more of those individual inks.
Second, I’ve finally decided on a name for book 3 of The Woodlands. It and the gorgeous cover will be revealed in a couple of weeks. We are still on track for a January 20th release date BUT because Last Hit took up quite a bit of my writing time, I’m a little behind. I’m not likely to have ARCS until January 10th. I hope you’ll stick with me.
Finally, December 20th, I’ll be part of an anthology called Snow Kissed with Jessica Clare who is sharing a “games” novella and D. S. Linney, a new author who wrote a contemporary romance featuring a venture capitalist and his forbidden new nanny. My contribution will be Noah and Grace as they gear up for a New Year’s Eve fight. Noah is finally stepping over the threshold of Grace’s home and he’s quite intimidated by the wealth. A professor has made Noah a shady offer to make some money and Noah’s a bit tempted. You’ll have to read it to see if you think Grace and Noah make the right decisions.
On to Charlotte and Nathan!
***
Nathan
Dad doesn’t hurry through the phone call. Instead, he listens as the other person seems to talk without breaks, all the while eying me speculatively. I take the time, as he intends me to, to gather myself until I’m no longer ready burst out with some inappropriate profanity laced diatribe. I firm my lips and give him a nod that I’m ready. He nods back and quickly wraps up the call.
“Summarize the details and email them to me by tomorrow morning. I’ll give you an answer in forty eight hours.” He doesn’t wait for a response and hangs up. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his arms behind his head. “I didn’t say a word to your momma about your indiscretion with that girl downstairs if that’s what you’re wondering.”
My mouth falls open in surprise at his ability to precisely peg my issue. “I, ah,” I stammer and wish I had showered so I could sit down. “Why’re they talking about taking Charlotte away then?” I hadn’t realized how much that bothered me until I gave voice to it.
Dad squints at the ceiling, tipping farther back in his chair and then lets it come forward with a bang. “I’m not entirely sure, son, but it isn’t that. Frankly, I think AnnMarie would be grateful your attentions are fixed on someone other than Charlotte. It’s been a contentious year for the two of you.”
I flush. Every since Charlotte turned fifteen, everyone seemed to start noticing her. And by everyone, I mean other guys. She doesn’t seem to care that she gets stared at constantly. When I suggested that maybe she should stop wearing yoga pants outside of the actual yoga studio, she didn’t talk to me for a week. “She’s hormonal,” I mutter finally.
At this Dad shouts with laughter. “She’s hormonal.” He pushes away from his desk and stands. Walking toward the door, he gestures for me to follow. “Son, you’ve got so many suppressed hormones, they are screwing with your head.”
I follow him into the kitchen where he pulls out the makings for sandwiches. Silently we make ourselves one and Dad pours me a tall glass of milk. I don’t remember the last time we’ve had time, just the two of us. Some of the stress of the past couple of weeks just drains away as we sit down and talk about the Bears chances to win the SuperBowl this year — not good — and the Cubs chances of winning the pennant next year — even worse.
“How’s practice going?” He asks, eating half his sandwich in one bite.
I shrug. “I don’t love it. I know I should but I’m bored half the time. It was more fun when I could play both offense and defense.” North Prep’s football team is mediocre at best and during my sophomore year, I got to play the tight end position and defensive back. My junior year, however, I’m playing solely the tight end position and because the quarterback sucks, I rarely get the ball thrown to me and when it does come my way, it’s either too long or too short.
“Team sports is a good experience for you, Nate,” Dad says. “Getting along with others is a chore but a necessary one. You can at least use the opportunity to understand the different dynamics of your teammates and how each one is motivated. Later on that skill will come in handy.”
After we polish off the sandwiches and milk, I help Dad clean up the kitchen. I’m not ready for our time to come to an end so I linger, spending more time than necessary cleaning off the center island.
“You think Charlotte is going to be okay?” That’s really the only question I need answered.
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s going to be easy.”
“Because of hormones,” I joke.
Dad doesn’t laugh, though. The side of his mouth quirks up in a sad half smile. “It’s going to be everything and I’m worried about you, hoss.”
“How so?” I don’t like this somber tone from him. Maybe chat time should be over. I throw the cloth I was using to clean the counter into the sink showing that I’m ready to be done.
“Charlotte is going to go through several months of radiation. Maybe a year. She’s going to be sick for a long time — ”
“And I’m going to take care of her,” I interrupt. Holding up my hand to forestall any other lectures, I tell Dad, “I got this.”
Dad just shakes head. “I love Charlotte like she’s my own and I’m gut sick about her illness, just like you. But she’s got her family to take care of her. You and Nick need to be focused on finishing school, enjoying yourself and then planning for college.”
“Sounds like you are all for Charlotte being moved away.” I scowl at him.
“No, but I can tell you that Charlotte is going to want to be with someone who sees more than someone to be taken care of. Around here, there’s going to be a lot of sympathy and a lot of people trying to do stuff for her.” Dad runs a hand over the top of his head and frowns. “Maybe Bo and AnnMarie are right in thinking Charlotte’d be better off where everyone doesn’t know her.”
I gape at him. “I think you’re all high then because Charlotte needs us.”
#
Charlotte
I’m grateful that the school keeps the bathrooms so clean because I’ve spent far too much time in them during the last month I’ve been back. After a month in the hospital and then a month at home, they allowed me to come back to school so long as I could hold up. Not wanting to be at home for another day, I’ve been lying to my parents for the first time. If they knew I was in the bathroom sick every day, I’d be pulled out of school in a heartbeat.
I pull out the water bottle from my backpack and swish out my mouth. Reaching up, I close the lid of the toilet seat and climb on top of it. The cool metal of the bathroom stall is relieving. Just one more minute, I tell myself, and then I’ll go back to class.
Everyone has been so helpful since I’ve been back, too helpful. I’ve gone from Charlotte Randolph to the sickgirl. Someone is always around to carry my books and walk me from room to room. Nate is always holding my elbow as if he thinks I’ll fall if he lets go. My tongue is sore from biting back my frustration. I’m trying not to be ungrateful, but I’d like to just be Charlotte Randolph again. Freshman, gymnast, student.
But every time I try to be normal, something happens to remind me that it’s all different. I have a hard time concentrating in class. Reading at night was once my favorite pastimes and now it is a chore. I’m behind everyone else and I’ve completely forgotten some basic principles of algebra and geometry. But none of the teachers complain about my lack of progress. Instead, I get smiles of encouragement for just signing my name on the top of a pop quiz or a homework assignment.
It’s early yet, I know this, but I’m afraid if I don’t show regular progress that I’ll be shipped out away from my friends, away from Nate and Nick. I can’t have that happen so I’m not telling anyone that I’m sick on a constant basis, that I can’t understand even the most basic principles during class, and that I feel like I’m only capable of doing fourth grade work at the moment.
I squeeze my eyes tight and concentrate on breathing. I’m not going to cry, I chant silently. I’m not going to cry.
The bathroom door slams open and the chatter of several girls tells me I am not alone. I start to stand but the vomiting and the lack of nutrition makes me feel lightheaded so I sit back down.
“You hosting the Halloween party this year, Claud?”
“Of course, what’s your costume?”
“Pepper Potts and Ryan is going as Iron Man.”
The names give me the clues to the group outside. It is Claudia Amsden, student body vice president and co chair of the homecoming committee. Her dad is a plastic surgeon. The girl going as Pepper Potts would be Nina Franchetti. The Franchettis own a number of restaurants in the city. Claudia has a thing for Nate but I don’t think that he’s given her a second thought. Not because Claudia isn’t gorgeous, but because she’s the same age as Nate and for some reason he’s never dated anyone at school, preferring older girls who go to other schools. He’s probably sleeping with some college student right now. The idea makes my sore stomach clench.
“Have you invited Charlotte Randolph yet?” asked Nina.
Nothing good comes from eavesdropping so I slowly rise to make it known I’m inside but before I can get the door open, I hear Claudia respond. “But of course. How else are we getting the Jacksons to come? The problem is getting them to stay because Charlotte’s probably too sick to stay long.”
I sit back down. She’s not wrong. I doubt I could last for more than an hour at Claudia’s party or at anyone’s party. And if I have radiation that day, I’ll count it as a success that I can walk from the treatment room to the car let alone go to any event.
“I don’t really understand why Nate and Nick won’t go to parties just because Charlotte can’t. Do you think she threw a tantrum and they feel sorry for her?” Nina asked.
Ugh. I hate that anyone feels sorry for me.
“Who knows,” Claudia responds. “It’s annoying but what can you do? They’re not going to do anything without her.”
I don’t want to hear anything more. Opening the door, I smile at their shocked expressions. “I don’t tell Nick or Nate what to do. They have minds of their own.”
Claudia purses her lips, unfazed by appearance. Maybe she knew I was there. “Maybe so, but they are obviously not doing anything without you. At least when it comes to extracurricular activities.”
“Like you said, that’s annoying.” I steady myself against the door jam and walk slowly toward the exit. I was going to have to talk to those boys. The idea that they were not having fun because of me angered me. I didn’t need anyone’s pity.
As always, if you sign up for the newsletter you’ll get an entry in the Charlotte Chronicles in your inbox a week ahead of time!
December 4, 2013
Blog tour roundup – Last Hit
We’ve had a few days of wonderful blog tour stops. This one is rather large so I’m going to list the blogs as a thank you (although I tried to include all of them in the acknowledgments of Last Hit. If I missed you, it’s because I’m full of fail and very very sorry.
Megan at readingbookslikeaboss made this awesome graphic. I love it.
Mary Elizabeth’s Crazy Book Obsession
Miss Me Passionate - We did an interview for this one
BookBlogger Paradise (I always sing Gangster’s Paradise when I see the title to this blog)
We Like It Big (they have some casting ideas)
And the best of all, there are still readers who love Unspoken and Undeclared. Nereyda Gonzalez at Mostly YA Book Obsessed is giving away a copy of one of her favorite 2013 debut reads. It’s a great list and if you are looking for something new to buy, she might have a suggestion. There are a couple new to me and I want to try one of them out.
And Corrine Jackson picked Unspoken as Day 4 of her 31 Days of Book Love. That’s awesome. She also excerpted one of my favorite quotes from the book.
December 3, 2013
Last Hit where lonely and lonely get together in a crazy fashion
My friend and fellow author created this awesome ad for Last Hit:
Amz: http://www.amazon.com/Last-Hit-Hitman-Jessica-Clare-ebook/dp/B00H0UTYS2/
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-hit-jen-frederick/1117534352
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lasthit-1364525-149.html
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/last-hit
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/...
Apple: I think they are reading the book and forgot to press “approve.”
December 2, 2013
Last Hit is on sale now
Jessica Clare and I email each other daily and have for several years. She’s been a big supporter of my writing. One day Jess joked that she wanted to write about a hitman that goes to college. Immediately I was struck by her brilliance. Unfortunately she refused to write it. A month later I brought it up again and she, probably tired of my harassment, said that I would have to write it with her. As this was going to deter me! Nope. I sat down and typed out Nikolai’s first scene. His background as a Ukranian conscripted into a Russian mafia was born in that instant.
Last Hit is the story of a lonely hitman who has been a contract killer since he was fifteen. While watching a mark, twenty one year old Daisy comes into his line of sight and his attention is arrested. He can’t stop thinking about her, watching her, or wanting her.
This story is different, darker, and sexier than anything I’ve written. Hope you enjoy it.
iTunes is a link not yet available but I’ll let you know when it is.
Amz: http://www.amazon.com/Last-Hit-Hitman-Jessica-Clare-ebook/dp/B00H0UTYS2/
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-hit-jen-frederick/1117534352
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lasthit-1364525-149.html
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/last-hit
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/382499
November 28, 2013
Charlotte Chronicles, VI
***
Charlotte Chronicles VI
Nathan
I wait until Nick is done with the last rep of his leg extensions. “What was that all about with Charlotte today?”
Nick shoots me a look but says nothing. Ignoring me, he climbs off the machine and wipes it down before heading for the free weights. I follow. “If you’ve got something up your ass, just spit it out instead of stewing about it.”
“What do you care?” He picks up a twenty five pound barbell and starts doing bicep curls. When I pick up the thirty pound weights, Nick just rolls his eyes.
“Seriously? You’re giving me crap over the fact I can lift more than you?”
“Whatever,” he mumbles.
I set the barbells onto the rack and pull Nick on the shoulder so he will stop and talk to me. “Nick, what’s wrong?”
For a moment, I think he might shrug me off. Then he releases a huge sigh and places his weights next to mine. Leaning down, he picks up his discarded towel and walks over to the water cooler. I trail behind waiting impatiently for him to spill it.
Either intentionally or because he isn’t sure what he wants to say, Nick makes me wait until he’s drained two glasses of water. When he starts peeling a banana, I lunge for him. He starts laughing, the little fucker, and dances away. “I wondered how long you’d wait.”
“Fuck you.” I laugh. Nick and I can never stay mad at each other for long.
“Uh oh, you owe me five or I tell Mom.” Mom hates hearing us cuss and makes us put five dollars in a jar that we then donate to the Widows and Orphans Charity. Dad fills it up about once a month.
“Yeah? And how are you going to explain all the porn tumblrs you’ve been looking up on your computer? I screenshotted your history FYI.” I haven’t but Nick doesn’t know that. His quick temper flares again and I think he might try to force feed me the banana. “Just kidding.” I back away holding up my hands in surrender.
Nick’s face grows serious. “You know they are thinking of shipping Charlotte to Sweden, right?”
That stops me in my tracks. I am glad I am near a weight bench because the thought of Charlotte being moved out of the country leaves me more winded than my hour long workout. “When did you hear that?”
“Charlotte told me yesterday.”
“And you’re just tell me now?” I yell at Nick.
“Volume, please.” Nick jiggles his ear.
“Sorry.” I reply curtly but I’m not sorry at all. This was vital information. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday.” What are Aunt AM and Uncle Bo thinking? Charlotte needs to be with me, us. Here where her family and friends are, not in some strange country with people who don’t know her.
“Where’d you go the night Charlotte had her tumor out?” Nick asks in an abrupt change of subject.
Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh here. The gym.”
“Really? Cuz when we got the call that Charlotte was out of surgery, I came down here to the gym and then down to the common one on the sixth floor. You weren’t in either one.” Nick doesn’t look at me but I know what I’d see in his eyes. Disappointment. Suddenly I feel angry at Dad for ratting me out. Surging to my feet, I start for the door. Nick stops me. “I saw Madeline yesterday in the lobby. She asked about you. Where you’ve been. How come she hasn’t seen you. I told her you were at the hospital with Charlotte. She asked me if that was where you’d taken off in such a rush the other night.”
“Goddammit.” I lean my head against the glass door of the gym. “What’d you say to her?”
“I told her it wasn’t any of her goddamned business where you went and what you did.” Nick bites out.
“Did you really?” This time I do turn to look at him. Dad had always taught us to be respectful to women and I just couldn’t see Nick saying that. Even to Madeline.
Nick looks down at his feet and shakes his head. “No, but I wanted to. I just said that Charlotte was our number one priority now.”
“Did you say anything to Charlotte?” That was the most important question. I hold my breath as Nate answered.
“No.”
The sheer relief at his response made me weak. “Thanks.” It’s inadequate but heartfelt. I push away from the door and gesture for Nick to follow me to the condo. He doesn’t get up and worry is all over his face. “I think Aunt AM knows, though, because after Charlotte told me I hung around outside the room when Mom came. She and Aunt AM were talking about this new clinic in Sweden and Aunt AM said it’d be good to get Charlotte away from us for a while.”
“What’d Mom say.”
“I couldn’t hear. They moved away from the door.”
“Fuck.” I curse and this time Nick doesn’t threaten to tell Mom. “So you think Aunt AM knows about Madeline and wants to move Charlotte away because of that?”
Nick spreads his hands. “Why else?”
I can think of a thousand reasons but instead of enumerating them, I run upstairs to Dad’s library and burst in. He’s on the phone and unhappy at the unannounced interruption. He gestures for me to sit down but then notices I’m in my workout clothes. Muting the phone, he barks at me. “Don’t sit on my leather chairs until you’ve showered.”
I stand because I’m not leaving to shower or eat or shit or anything until I find out what’s going on.
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November 21, 2013
Charlotte Chronicles, V
Nathan
“Oh Nate! What’re you doing here?” Aunt AM comes around Charlotte’s empty hospital bed. I hold out my books and give her a confused look. I’d been coming every night after football practice for the past week. What does she think I’m doing here?
“I’m here to study,” I say. “And hang out. Where is everyone?” I look around but don’t see Nick or Charlotte. Aunt AM places a hand on my elbow and starts moving out of the room, but I pull back. “Where’s everyone?” I repeat.
Aunt AM doesn’t give me a direct answer. Instead, she tightens the grip on my arm. For some reason she wants me to leave. I’m several inches taller than Aunt AM and probably a hundred pounds heavier. My superior height and weight make it impossible for most people to move me when I’m refusing to follow them. Aunt AM is no different. She turns to me and places her hands on her hips.
“You were so much easier to manage when you were a child, Nate.”
“But not as cute, right?” I wink at her because even though she looks a little exasperated with me now, I know she loves me.
“No, you were pretty darn cute as a baby.” Aunt AM sighs and then shoots a glance at the bathroom door that I just now notice is shut. A buzzing sound is coming from inside and then I hear voices. I can’t make out the words, but because I’ve grown up listening to these voices I know its Nick and Charlotte. I start for the door. There’s no way that they need privacy.
Aunt AM places her hand on my arm again and this time the tone in her voice, warning and wary, stops me. “Nate.”
“What’s up?” I don’t understand. I hear giggles which are from Charlotte and then a lower chuckle from Nick. My body is tensing up like it does before I’m about to kick the body bag in the gym. My breath is becoming more rapid and anger builds. Nick should not be in the bathroom with Charlotte. They should not be together, laughing behind closed doors. What is with the buzzing noise? The buzzing noise shuts off and I hear my name being repeated in low tones.
“Nate, Nathan, Nathan Jackson.” Aunt AM finally breaks through and I look down at her, wondering why she’s repeating my name so many times.
“Yeah?” But she doesn’t have my full attention because I have to know what’s going on in there. There’s a silence in the room and then I hear crying. It’s Charlotte. Shaking off Aunt AM’s hand, I take three strides across the room and have my hand on the bathroom door. I’m so close now that I can hear Nick comforting Charlotte.
“It’s fine, Charlotte. You look fine,” Nick says. Charlotte replies but I don’t understand her. Neither does Nick. “What?” he asks.
“It’s not fine.” Charlotte says more clearly. “Look at me. I look like a penis head.”
Nick burst out laughing. “Have you even seen a penis?
Aunt AM was tugging at my arm but stopped at Nick’s question. I guess we both want to hear the answer to this.
“Um duh, pictures. Remember when Francine forwarded the picture of her brother looking at himself in the mirror.” Silence reigned while we all contemplated this for a second.
“Yeah, that was unfortunate.” Nick snickered. “But you look nothing like Francine’s brother’s penis.”
“Only because he had hair around his dick and I don’t.” Charlotte said. Aunt AM let out a tiny moan of dismay beside me. I don’t know exactly how I feel that Charlotte had seen some guy’s penis but it isn’t pleasant.
Nick makes a gagging sound. “Can we never talk about Francine’s brother’s penis again? I’m going to need some brain bleach.”
“I can’t be seen like this,” Charlotte says unhappily. “I look hideous. I’m so glad we did this before Nate came.”
My back bristles. I don’t get why I was shut out of this. Charlotte had talked about shaving off her hair, but I thought it was just that, talk. I’d have done it with her. I wanted to do it. I was her rock, not Nick.
“Yeah, well, you know I’m standing behind you when he comes because he’s going to be pissed off you did this without talking to him first.”
“He’s not the boss of me,” declares Charlotte. “I’ve already got two parents. I don’t need a third one.” Is that what she thought? That I was trying to be her parent? Disheartened, I allowed Aunt AM to lead me away out into the hallway.
“Nate, honey,” she said, reaching up to brush my hair out of my face. Hair I shouldn’t have. Hair I should’ve shaved off with Charlotte so she could see we’d all be penis heads together if that was really what she looked like. “Charlotte is at a delicate stage. She’s fifteen. She’s starting to notice guys and have guys notice her.” This statement makes me ball my hands into fists which Aunt AM notices because she hurries on, “And not that she likes anyone but she’s very conscious of how she looks. Her emotions are all over the place because of the medications and the surgeries and just all the unknowns of the future.”
Unknowns? “What’re you saying?” I ask sharply. “She’s going to be okay, right?” I thought after they’d taken the tumor out of her head, it was all good from there. “The radiation is just precautionary, right?”
Aunt AM’s smile is a little watery. “We hope so, Nathan. We hope so.” Aunt AM pulls me in for a hug. “Be patient with her, will you?”
I nod. I can be patient. I can. Aunt AM releases me. A nurse catches her attention and Aunt Am follows her to the nurses’ station and I take the opportunity to head back to Charlotte’s room. The bathroom door is still closed. I decide to employ some of that patience and drop into the arm chair next to the empty hospital bed. My forbearance is rewarded when a second later, the bathroom door flies open and out walks Nick and Charlotte, looking like to freshly shorn peas. I cast Nick a dark look and he slides behind Charlotte, all six feet two of him.
“See, told ya he’d be pissed.”
“I’m not pissed.” Rising up, I position Charlotte directly in front of me and pretend to examine her carefully. I don’t really care what Charlotte looks like without hair. She could be bald for the rest of her life and she’d still be the prettiest girl around but I figure out pretty quick that she’s not going to believe that. I draw a finger down the middle of her face, from the top of her forehead to the tip of her chin. Then I bisect that imaginary vertical line with a horizontal one. I trace another line from her eyes to the sides of her mouth.
“What’d you learn in biology about symmetry, Charlotte,” I ask her. My voice is a little husky and her eyes widen. She’s trembling a bit under my hand.
“That nature loves symmetry.”
“Right.” She’s caught on quickly. “Your face is pretty damn symmetrical. You’re the type who’s gonna look good with long hair, short hair, and no hair.”
Her lips are shaking a bit and she presses them tight to hold back her tears but a couple slip out of her eyes anyway. I swipe them away with my thumbs but behind the surface sheen of tears, I see comprehension. She believes me. I give her a slow wink and that draws out a beautiful smile. At about the moment I’m going to draw her into my arms, Nick slaps me on the back, “Smooth, big brother. Very nice.”
Nick’s words make mine look like a joke and the look in Charlotte’s eyes turn from appreciation to bleakness like that. I reach over and cuff Nick harder than he expected.
“Ow goddammit, that hurt.” Nick rubs the back of his head but it’s too late. No amount of head slaps is going to bring confidence back into Charlotte’s eyes tonight.
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November 19, 2013
Last Hit Blog Tour signup
Interested in being part of Last Hit blog tour? You can sign up here. It’s being hosted by the lovely ladies at The Rock Stars of Romance.
Wondering what Last Hit is about? Here’s the blurb:
Nikolai:
I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you’d have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.
Daisy:
I’ve been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I’m so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he’s terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he’s the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.
Mini Excerpt:
I watch her through my bathroom window. I’ve placed one of my four rented chairs in here for that express purpose. I tell myself it is not creepy, as the American girls would say, because I watch everyone. But really I watch only her.
I cannot see everything. I’ve never seen her nude. I’ve never seen inside her shower. Smartly there is no window there. But I can see her bedroom and her living room and beyond that, with my scope, her kitchen. I know her schedule. When she gets up in the morning, when she returns to her apartment. If she were a mark, I could’ve killed her a dozen times over by now and been in the wind.
She throws her bag onto her bed and then lies down next to it. It takes many muscles to smile, much less to frown but only a few to pull the trigger. I peer down the scope and place my crosshairs over her forehead. Puff, dead.
November 14, 2013
Charlotte Chronicles, IV
Charlotte
My mom is saying things but I’m not really understanding them. Like I know what all the words mean individually but I am having a hard time putting it all together. And it’s making me angry. “Stop. Just stop.” I say. Or maybe I shout it because Mom presses her lips together in a disapproving way, a sure sign she was suppressing something.
The doctor had come in earlier to tell me that they didn’t think that the tumor had resulted in any brain damage and that I was still as smart as always only that now I might see some changes in how I used the information in my head. And that I might be more emotional now because I had a reduced ability to control my feelings.
I guess that explained why I am crying all the mother loving time. I am sick of crying. I am sick of the hospital. I don’t want to go to surgery this afternoon to have my port put in. I don’t want to undergo several courses of radiation therapy to make sure all my tumor cells are killed off.
Today is Tuesday. I’ve been in the hospital for five days now. I guess the good thing is that after I get the port put in, I can wear actual pajamas and not the hospital gown and they’ll move me out of the main hospital into an adjacent facility with a big room that overlooks the city. Just like at home. Only it will still be in a hospital.
I’m missing school and gymnastics practice. Nick tried to cheer me up earlier by saying that I’d gotten too tall for gymanstics anyway. I had grown a little in the last year and some of the maneuvers weren’t as tight. Maybe I would’ve given it up soon but I wished that I could’ve made that decision, not have it taken away from me like my stupid hair. Or where I was going to go to school when after I was discharged.
“I can’t believe you’d make leave school and move to Switzerland.” I glare at my mother and then look pleadingly at my dad. He’s a softie, always trying to make mom and me happy. Living with the two of us has taken a lot out of him, he liked to say. I love my mom but we grate on each other’s nerves. Dad says it’s because we’re too much alike. I don’t think we’re anything alike. For instance, I would not make my daughter leave her only friends and take her to another country to get better.
The Jacksons have been kicked out of the room and its just us Randolphs. Probably because my mom knew that the Jacksons would not be for us moving away for the year. Nick is my best friend and Nate, well, I couldn’t leave him either. He is going away to college soon and I want to enjoy him being around while I can, even if he was a jerk to me most of the time. I’ll miss Aunt Grace and Uncle Noah too.
“I just think that the transition would be easier for you. We’ll hire a tutor to go with us so you won’t get behind and when we can, we’ll travel around Europe. It will be a big adventure for us.” Mom is using her ‘Let me explain to you why Freedom Funds is the best hedge fund in the world’ voice. Irritating much?
“You can stop talking to me like I’m some prospective client. I’m not leaving North Prep. Last year sucked because I was a freshman but I’m a sophomore now. I have status!”
“Don’t say suck,” Mom said but it was an automatic response, not one that had any real force behind it. She was too busying staring at Dad. They’ve developed this technique where they can communicate with each other just by looking. No words. I’ve seen Aunt Grace and Uncle Noah do it too. Sometimes the look those folks exchange makes me feel uncomfortable, like I’m seeing something private I shouldn’t be looking at. But it’s like the sun and I can’t look away. I want to have that kind of connection. I’ve decided that’s the sign you’ve found your one true love.
It’s never worked with Nate. I tried it once when he started seeing Yolanda from school. Yolanda was a senior last year. Older girls have always had a thing for Nate. I don’t get it. Why don’t they stick with the guys in their own grade and leave Nate alone? Yolanda was always touching him in school. I’d see her run her hands down the side of his arm or over his back or sometimes even around the waistband of his jeans. I thought it was disgusting how she pawed at him and I glared at him one day trying to tell him silently how gross it was but he just stared at Yolanda with a stupid grin on his face. So even if I thought Nate was my one true love, he didn’t return my feelings. He’s too busy sleeping with all the seniors. Like Yolanda.
When Yolanda left for college, I was thrilled but her place was taken by another senior girl. Plus there’s this girl who lives downstairs from us who’s in college and she’s always looking at him like he’s a side of beef and she hasn’t eaten in a year. I haven’t seen Nate give her the stupid grin so it seems safe to assume that they aren’t doing it. I asked Nick once if he thought his brother was hooking up with the girl downstairs and Nick gave me this weird look and told me that he wasn’t going to talk about stuff like that with me.
Dad clears his throat and I do a mental fist pump. That Dad is talking and not Mom meant I’ve won this round. “We’ll take it a day at a time. If North Prep gets too much for you, the Switzerland idea is still available.”
Mom leans over and gives me a kiss on my forehead. Her lips are trembling like she is trying not to cry and I just don’t understand what she is so upset about. How could North Prep be too much for me? All my friends went to North Prep. Nothing bad could happen to me there.
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November 7, 2013
Charlotte Chronicles, III
Charlotte
“Do you think I should just shave my head or wait until the hair falls off during radiation?” I close one eye and lift my long hair off my neck.
“Are you going to get a pirate patch?” Nick asks. He is lying on the hospital bed next to me playing on his DS. Mom and Dad had moved an extra wide hospital bed in here after the surgery because someone was always lying on the bed with me. Not that I minded it but I didn’t even know that they made beds bigger. The nurses grumbled because apparently it was harder to take my vitals when one side was squished by the body of some teenager.
But friends from school came over and invariably they ended up beside me. Or Nate who’s been here every night like a giant muscle bound teddy bear. He’d disappeared before and after my surgery and then came back late that night and sat with mom all night until my mom left to get something and Nate nudged me over. I like it more than I should because I’m sure that Nate is just being brotherly. But it’s a nice change from him always giving me a hard time. His default mood for the last year has been pissed off. Even Nick gives him wide berth. When I got sick, I was sure he was thinking I’d ruined something for him and that’s why he took a runner during my surgery. But now he’s back to being big brother Nate. Unfortunately I have some not so fraternal feelings toward him.
But a girl whose got a tube in her neck, a slightly enlarged noggin, and a bald head isn’t going to get someone like Nate to notice her in that way. I should probably just enter the nunnery now.
“No, why? You think that goes with a bald head?” I ask Nick trying to shove Nate out of my head. I have weird feelings toward Nate and I’m not really up for dissecting them right now.
“I’m wondering why you are closing one eye.”
I punch Nick in the shoulder. “I’m just trying to see it from a different perspective.”
Nick sets down the DS and pushes me upright. He pulls up the hair tight and away from my face. And then he closes one eye and then the other. “I think we should shave our heads today.”
“We?”
“Hell yeah,” Nick looks at me like I’m bonkers. “You know I’m shaving my head in solidarity. A bunch of us are. Even Meghan.”
Maybe its the drugs but I start to cry. Even Meghan? My best friend from gymnastics?
“Ah shit, don’t cry.” Nick awkwardly pats me on the shoulder but I don’t stop leaking water everywhere. I’m afraid and I’m grateful to my friends and I love my family and everything that is going on is overwhelming me.
“Shit shit shit.” I hear Nick say and then I feel him moving off the bed. I want to call out to him that I’m fine but I can’t because I’m really not fine. What Nick doesn’t say and that we both know is that I have to shave my hair off because they’ve already taken a huge hunk of it off to operate on my head. And who the heck cares about my hair when they are sticking a plastic tube down the back of my neck to drain off excess fluid that is now collecting in my brain. And the fact that I have a hard time comprehending reading or writing words down. It’d be a struggle competing at a 2nd grade spelling bee right now.
I know I should be so happy that I made it out of surgery but all I can think of is how my seven years of gymnastics training is being flushed down the toilet; how everyone will stare at me when I go back to school; how my mom won’t stop looking at me like she’s afraid the next breath is my last. My mom is never worried. She’s this business powerhouse who can climb giant mountains. But she’s afraid which tells me I should be shitting my pants.
So I can’t stop crying even though I’m making Nick feel so bad he has to leave the room. The bed dips and a pair of strong arms gather me up. It’s Nate. I recognize his smell and it makes me cry even harder because I have such a stupid idiotic crush on him and I’m afraid no one will want to marry me because I don’t have any hair.
“You’ve done what legions of other girls at school wish they had the power to do.”
“What’s that?” I mumble into Nate’s t-shirt clad chest.
“Make Nick leave them alone.”
Nate’s bad joke prompts a watery giggle and I’m able to quell my hysterics. Pushing away, I wipe ineffectually at my wet face. Nate nudges my hands aside and sops up the tears with a couple of kleenexes. I notice that the clock says its just after one in the afternoon.
“Isn’t your dad making you guys go to school?” It’s Tuesday, at least I think it is. I’ve been here since Saturday.
“Nope. You’re little brain tumor is getting us out of school for the week. Mom’s orders.” Nate leans back against the pillows of the hospital bed. Even though the bed is slightly larger, his big frame takes up most of the space so that when I lean back I have to rest partially against his chest. I remind myself that Nate is like my brother. Just a brother. Like Nick.
If only I could just convince myself of that.
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November 1, 2013
Will the Charlotte Chronicles be a book?
I’ve gotten so much interest in the Charlotte Chronicles. I love it. Here’s the deal. I’ve got four more Woodlands books to write and those come first. And, depending on how much you love Last Hit, maybe more collaborations.
I want to write Charlotte and Nathan’s love story into a book but that will be some time down the road. Instead, I’m going to work on it a little each week and release it one small section at a time. This means that you’ll get to read it free all the way to the end, but that the end might not be for a while.
Also, if you use the contact form, double check your email. I had a couple of readers who used it and the email response that I sent bounced back to me. Thanks everyone!
