“So, um, I kinda met someone,” Char said to Everett. She opened her sandwich bag. “I mean, it’s probably nothing.”
Everett was chewing a bite from his apple. After a second, he said, “Oh yeah? Guy or girl?”
“Girl, silly,” Char protested. “If there was a guy, it’d be you. You know that.”
She punched him lightly on his arm. Everett had asked her out every year since they were in junior high. And every year Char said, “It’s not you, it’s me.” So here they were, best friends. Char worried that maybe it wasn’t the healthiest choice for Everett. But she’d leave it up to him. And if he was willing to be her best friend, there was no way she was going to say no to that. Everett was one great dude.
“Where’d you meet?” he asked.
“Online.”
“Does she live in Wyoming? Japan? What’s the tragedy?”
“How do you know it’s tragic?”
“Well, it’s you.” He laughed. “Have you ever had anything work out smoothly?”
“God! Why do I tell you anything?”
“All right, all right. Tell me about her.”
“She’s in high school. I don’t know where. And she’s . . . I dunno . . . she’s different.”
“Does she have six toes?”
“Are you jealous or something?”
He took another bite from his apple and looked away. That meant he was jealous. Char didn’t want to push it. She knew what life was like without Everett. At the beginning, he had avoided her after being rejected. It was always lonely for Char at school without him.
“Anyway, forget it,” Char said. “I’ll probably never meet her. You’ll meet some chick and I’ll be your third wheel for decades. And then I’ll die a virgin.”
“Drama queen.”
“I think it’s being pretty realistic.”
“Have you ever looked in the mirror, Char? No way are you dying a virgin.” Everett laughed. “And just so you know, I’m not just talking about your looks. So don’t accuse me of being shallow.”
“Meh. I’m the one who’s shallow these days.”
“How?”
“I got to talking with this girl. I realized that some of the stuff I’m doing is maybe a little . . . I dunno . . . a cry for attention or something?”
“We all know you like attention.” Everett smiled.
She shoved him again. “I guess. And I’ve been working on this song. But it feels like it’s going nowhere.”
“Song writing takes time.”
“Yeah. I don’t feel like I have a lot of that.”
“Well, you do. We’re young.”
“I want to be big.”
“Well, you know what to do. Work at it.” He got up from the table where they were sitting. “That’s what I’m going to do now. Hockey practice.”
“Really? At lunch?”
“Yeah, it’s just a few of us. Coach said we could.” He picked up his tray. “See ya!”
Char waved at Everett’s back as he left the cafeteria. Alone. Again.
She was checking her phone when a girl came up her table. It was the girl Mimi picked on. Garbage Girl. Their eyes met.
“Are you done with that?” the girl asked. She gestured to Char’s tray.
“Uh, yeah,” Char said. She thought about SendLove and wanted to say something. But how would this girl take it? Wouldn’t it just be better for both of them to pretend they didn’t know the bullying was going on?
***
It was time for Char to take a big step. She craved her nightly messaging with Cinders. She wanted more. It’s not like she wanted to sext, though the idea put a smile on her face. She wanted to hear Cinders’s voice. She wanted to see something more than the words popping up on the screen next to the picture of Cinders’s glasses.
She got a little flirty with Cinders and then asked for her email.
Char held her breath. No answer. Then finally, an email address came through.
The first thing Char did was send Cinders a picture of herself. Char’s face was in shadow and she was holding her guitar. Everett had taken it, and it seemed intimate. It was a picture of all the things that were underneath the jewellery and the makeup. Char had never felt close enough to anyone else to share it.
She couldn’t wait for a reply, so she got on FaceTime and called Cinders, voice only. After the first awkward words, Char was surprised that they got right to things she had never admitted to anyone, not even herself.
“I’ve always made music,” said Char. “Singing, piano. I love my guitar, as you can see. But it’s only been lately I’ve wanted to have a career in it.”
“But how are you going to support yourself in the meantime? I mean, most artists need day jobs, at least at first.”
“Duh! I’ll sponge off my parents.” Char laughed. “Truth is, I’m totally scared about that part. I feel like there’s no way any kind of McJob is going to be enough to float me.” Did that sound like she was spoiled?
“No?”
Char was thankful that the one word was not snarky. It sounded like Cinders really wanted to know. “I’m working on some other avenues. Passive income, that sort of thing.”
“That’s cool.”
“But I’m kind of scared I’m not very good.”
“At singing?”
“Singing, songwriting, playing guitar,” sighed Char. “All of it. I’m pretty good at performing. I don’t mind an audience or a camera.”
“I can’t stand attention. Can’t do public speaking. Makes me feel like I’m going to die.”
“Really? How do you get by? Like in school and stuff.”
“I just do whatever I can to stay out of the spotlight, even if it means doing more than my fair share of group work or whatever.”
“I find it hard to relate to that.”
Cinders laughed, but in a good way. “I can tell. I’m glad, because it kind of sucks. I wish I was more like you.”
“Hmmm. And here I am wishing I was more like you.”
By the time they finished, it was three in the morning. Char was ready to curl up into a ball and sleep for days.
The next day, the conversation continued through SendLove chat. At school, at home. There was back and forth all day. All the pretending Char did had worn on her, and she was desperate to let her real self be seen. She began talking about what made her feel insecure. Before she knew it, she was telling Cinders everything, even things she never told Everett.
Charming: So I’m afraid of not being good enough as a musician. I’m scared that even if I give it my all and put in the years it’ll take, it’ll go nowhere.
Cinders: Where do you want it to go?
Charming: I want to share what’s in my heart. I want to play for audiences and inspire people. Would I like fame and money and record deals? Hell yeah. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.
Cinders: Every artist wants to be recognized.
Charming: Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I want recognition more than I want to do something good for the world. That’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?
Cinders: I don’t think so. It’s okay to want feedback, to feel like you’re part of a give and take.
Charming: Maybe that’s what it is. Thank you. I’ve been hard on myself about wanting attention. But maybe it’s just that I want some back and forth.
They chatted long into the night again. Char learned that Cinders’s mom had recently died. Char felt bad for Cinders. How small my problems are compared to that, she thought.
The funny thing was that Char felt good about herself while she was online with Cinders. And she wasn’t used to that. She had conversations all day, every day, at school or online. But she always felt like she had to live up to other people’s standards. And she felt she failed at that. Cinders made Char feel like it was okay just to be Char. Too bad Cinders was just someone online, someone Char would never meet in real life.