Chapter 38: CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Charlotte arrives in Greencliff on the morning of Bailey's birthday.

The plan is to surprise Bailey at breakfast so she can wish her a happy birthday before school. She's worried that if she leaves it until after then Bailey might assume she's forgotten.

I have to admit, it's a plan that has become increasingly harder to keep secret now that Bailey and I are making an effort to get along.

Naturally, the excited words, 'Guess who's coming to visit!' have been dancing on the tip of my tongue for days. And no harder is it to keep quiet than on the morning of Bailey's birthday itself — mere minutes away from Charlotte's arrival — because it seems like Bailey could use the good news right about now.

The girl looks fucking miserable.

Despite it being a day for celebration, she sits next to me at the kitchen table with a face like sour milk, sulkily stabbing at her cereal with her spoon. The cheerful room, adorned with 'Happy Birthday!' banners and multi-coloured balloons, does little to sway her scowl.

It's the same scowl she woke up with this morning, giving us barely enough time to cheer out, "Happy birthday, Bailey!" before she launched into her first complaint of the day — the first of many.

"Why do I have to have an exam on my birthday?" She complains again, dragging a sigh from both Stella and George who sit opposite us at the table. "Isn't going to school today already bad enough?"

"Hey, now... it's only school," Owen speaks up, a dangerous attempt at humour. He slouches in his chair at the end of the table, smirking at his own hypocrisy. "I really don't see why you're making such a fuss."

Everyone at the table turns to him with identical, deadpan stares. When he catches my eye, he offers up an impish grin and shrugs.

"What?" he asks cheekily, amused by Bailey's bad temper. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood. I thought it was funny."

"Hilarious," Bailey replies, although the look on her face says far from it. "You're a real comedian, Owen. Well done."

Owen snorts a laugh, unbothered by her glare, to which Bailey threatens to dump the rest of her cereal over his head. I'm pretty sure it's a loaded threat but Owen doesn't appear overly worried about it.

"Come on, Bailey," I try to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure today won't be so bad."

I search for the right words to cheer her up but, truthfully, I doubt there are many that could make a birthday exam any less shit. I know I'd be annoyed if I were Bailey. I can't really blame her for being grumpy about it.

"At least you're only in for half the day," I remind her. "As soon as the exam's over, you're free to celebrate."

With Charlotte. As a family.

Of course, Bailey doesn't know it yet, but Charlotte and I plan to meet her at the school straight after her exam. We've got late lunch reservations at The Nest, Bailey's favourite diner, and then two lanes booked for bowling later with the whole family.

There's no way we're going to let Bailey spend the whole day sulking.

"Exactly!" George agrees, pointing at me from across the table to emphasise my words. "And at least it's English Lit." He turns his gaze to Bailey. "Didn't you say you're doing much better in that class? This exam will be a doddle. You'll see."

For a moment, I wonder if anyone else notices the slight pause before Bailey answers. A muttered, "Right... sure," that sounds a little too forced.

Her glum expression could easily be misinterpreted as bitterness over her exam — but I know better. It's a look that tells me her thoughts have turned in the exact same direction as mine: the reason for Bailey's improvement in English Lit.

Alex Coleman.

Without the grade from that project they worked on together, Bailey would be flunking the class completely.

When Bailey turns her head to look at me, I can read her thoughts as clearly as if she speaks them out loud. No matter how great the rest of her day is, she won't be able to celebrate her birthday the way she really wants to — because she won't be able to celebrate it with her best friend.

Bailey would've been bitter today whether she had an exam or not.

At least she seems to be sticking to her promise this time. At least she's staying away from him...

I can't decide whether I feel relieved or upset about that, reassured or guilty. Strangely, it seems to be an odd mix of all four.

...For now, at least. She's staying away from him for now — until August.

Because that's what we agreed to; that's what I agreed to. And now, somehow, I have to explain all of that to Charlotte.

A sudden knock on the front door breaks me from the impending spiral, freeing my lungs from the clutches of despair.

There's a collective groan around the breakfast table, a chorus of unhappy "Urrrgh's" from Bailey and the boys as they all jump to the same conclusion: that the knock must belong to Karen. Meanwhile, Stella and I share a knowing glance across the table, and I have to hide a grin behind my coffee mug as she stands to answer the door.

It takes a great deal of effort not to jump up after her. Instead, I jiggle my knee under the table impatiently and remain seated.

I've been holding onto this secret for far too long to go and spoil the surprise now. I've been holding onto it so long that I could burst at any moment.

My heart feels about three sizes too big, swelling up against my ribcage like one of Bailey's birthday balloons, lighter than air and desperate to float free.

"Seriously?" Bailey grumbles, scowling. "On my fucking birthday?"

I try to morph my expression into one of annoyance, attempting to use Bailey's as a template. It fails, of course. Despite my best efforts, I can feel the corners of my mouth twitch into a small smirk as Bailey then adds, "Can't this bitch just give us a break?"

"...Well, damn," an amused voice sounds from the doorway behind Bailey and I. "That wasn't quite the welcome I'd had in mind."

Silence descends upon the kitchen in a tidal wave of shock, dragging Bailey and the boys under in one fell swoosh. Then, slowly, Bailey turns in her chair to face the door, her eyes wide with disbelief.

And there Charlotte stands, a rucksack slung over her shoulder and her face alight with amusement. Her blonde hair, the colour of white sand, is much shorter than it was the last time I saw her. Once hanging to her waist, it has since been chopped into a stylish bixie cut that now accentuates her high cheekbones. It makes her face seem slimmer than I remember, dainty angles cut like marble.

She looks so different.

Still, her dimpled smile and warm blue eyes are as familiar as ever. They're as familiar as my own reflection.

Charlotte and I share enough similarities, side by side we could be mistaken for twins.

The silence stretches for a few heartbeats longer, long enough for Bailey to finally comprehend what's happening. Then, finally, the room erupts into a symphony of excited cheers.

Bailey launches herself from her chair, directly into the arms of a laughing Charlotte. The pair of them almost get barrelled down by Owen and Oscar when they, too, join in on the hug.

As much as I want to join them, I have to hold back for a moment. It feels oddly overwhelming, the sight of my four siblings squished together in the kitchen doorway, wrapped together in a bone-crushing embrace.

I have to take a deep breath before I do something dumb like cry.

Question after question tumbles into the air, three voices blurring into one as Bailey and the boys yell over each other to ask first.

"What are you doing here?"

"How long are you here for?"

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Does this mean we can skip school today?"

"Did Stella and George know?"

"Has Jade told you yet? I'm going to see Atomic Arsonists!"

"I can't believe you're really here!"

Charlotte continues to laugh over their giddiness, her eyes sparkling as she calls out, "Okay, okay. One at a time!"

Over the top of Bailey's head, Charlotte catches my eye, her grin slipping into a fond smile as she rolls her eyes and sends me that look. It's a familiar look, one we've shared many times over the years living in this madhouse: an affectionate exasperation aimed at the three crazy teens currently talking her ears off. It's a look that reads as, 'These kids... am I right?"

I snort a laugh. 'You're not wrong.'

Stella chooses the most inopportune moment to reappear, squeezing past the four of them to return to her seat, right as Owen exclaims, "We've missed you so fucking much! Shit's just not the same without you, Char."

He's also not wrong. Still, that doesn't make Stella any harder of hearing, or any more lenient. With a sigh, she opens her mouth to reprimand Owen's colourful choice of language, only to be silenced by a soft nudge from George.

"Just let them have this moment," he murmurs quietly, his mouth curved into a soft smile as the excited voices continue.

Returning his smile, Stella relents.

"I am so happy that you're here!" Bailey gushes, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her grin stretches so wide, she looks like a completely different person. There's not the slightest trace of the moody teenager we were faced with this morning.

Thank fuck for Charlotte, wielding her magic in that way she always does. Maybe there's hope for Bailey's birthday yet.

"I should hope so," Charlotte replies teasingly. Then, pulling Bailey back in for another hug, she says, "Happy birthday, sunshine!"

The rest of breakfast passes in a blur.

At some point, I stand to give Charlotte a hug, too. It's one of those long-awaited, I-never-want-to-let-go sort of hugs — warm and comforting and very much needed. It's a hug that speaks a thousand words, offloading enough of my feelings to make Charlotte squeeze me even tighter.

As if sensing just how close I am to breaking point, she whispers into my ear, "I'm so proud of you, sunshine. You're doing great."

And I hadn't realised how much I needed to hear those words until she says them.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pull away from Charlotte and blink back more of those pesky tears, pretending not to notice George's concerned frown as I avoid eye contact and return to my seat. Luckily, Charlotte distracts him with a hug, stealing his attention long enough for me to plaster on some semblance of a normal smile.

Shortly after, with a begrudging groan from all three, it reaches time for Bailey and the boys to leave for school. And then for George to leave for work. And then for Stella to leave for an early brunch with one of her clients.

Then, finally, Charlotte and I have the chance to talk. And with my stress levels rising like the steam of a screeching teapot, I do my best to fill her in on every new Coleman-related development that I can think of.

I tell her about the gun I saw in their car, and the stolen goods in their house. I tell her about the countless arguments I've had with Bailey about Alex, and the way her opinion on the brothers seems completely immovable despite the gun and stolen goods.

I explain more about Bailey covering for Alex, that the secrecy wasn't something bad like we'd feared. I explain that Bailey has simply been supporting him with something personal as any good friend would, and that it has nothing to do with his family's less than legal lifestyle.

Despite Charlotte's attempts to coax it out of me, I keep Alex's secret like I promised I would. It's clear that my vague answers on the subject bother her but I refuse to out him because it would be the wrong thing to do. It's none of Charlotte's business.

Overall, the conversation takes over an hour, with numerous interruptions from Charlotte making the process much longer. Then, eventually, she sums the whole situation up with two simple words.

"Fucking hell."

By now, the two of us are making our way along the cracked pavements near our house, heading in the direction of the school where we're set to meet Bailey after her exam. The midday sun beams down on our backs, a light sheen of sweat coating the back of my neck as I impatiently tuck my hair up into a messy bun.

It's safe to say that summer is officially here.

"I know," I mutter. "This whole thing has become a fucking nightmare."

Charlotte chews on her bottom lip for a few moments, lost in her own thoughts. Then, eventually, she asks, "So you don't think Alex will get her into trouble? He's not asking her to do anything shady?" She eyes me doubtfully, the expression leaking into her words.

"I don't think so," I admit, shrugging – and I mean it. Then, with a sigh, I say, "I actually think Alex is a good kid, to be honest."

At that, I don't miss the way Charlotte raises her eyebrows in disbelief – or the way her lips thin into a line, clearly biting back her disagreement.

"Good kid. Bad genetics," I elaborate, feeling a little defensive all of a sudden. "I'm not saying the boy pisses holy water, Char, but it's definitely not as simple as we'd like it to be. I can sort of see Bailey's point... just a little."

Charlotte "hmm's" in consideration. It's not a happy sound.

And if she's not happy now, I can only imagine how she's going to react in a few seconds.

"I kind of... changed my mind," I admit reluctantly. "I agreed that Bailey only has to stay away from Alex until Karen reports her wellbeing assessment... and I'm sticking to it. I'm not going to stop her from being friends with him afterwards. I'm not going to stop her from being friends with any of them."

I wince and wait for the explosion.

"You what?" Charlotte exclaims, appalled. "Have you lost your–"

"Look, I know what you're thinking. I know what you're going to say. I get it," I interrupt – because there's probably nobody that gets it better than I do. I know exactly how she feels right now: pissed off, worried, frustrated. Been there, done that – oh, wait – still there, still doing that. "But you don't understand because you don't know them. It's not as simple–"

"I don't want to know them!" she exclaims, throwing her arms up in agitation. "You shouldn't, either. Neither should Bailey!"

I can hear the confusion in her voice, the unspoken accusation of, 'When did you suddenly change sides? I thought you were smarter than this!'

"Look, it's not like I'm saying I want her to run off into a life of illegal shit. I don't want her involved with gangs, or adding to Greencliff's crime stats, any more than you do," I argue, trying to remain calm and speak rationally. It's the only way to get my point across. "But they don't involve her in any of that. They don't want her involved in any of that. And, as strange as it sounds, I think Alex might actually be sort of... good for her."

Charlotte scoffs, rounding on me and bringing us both to a stop in the middle of the pavement. Folding her arms, she says, "Okay, now I'm not even mad. I'm just scared for your sanity." But her tone of voice tells me she's still very much mad.

"Hear me out," I sigh, rolling my eyes. "You've not seen what she's like around him, the way she opens up. She never opens up with anybody. Nobody except you, and you're not–" here.

I stop talking before I voice that last word, trying to think of a less hurtful way to say it, but the look on her face tells me she heard it anyway. Her anger falls away to a myriad of emotions: hurt, guilt, sadness – each one as painful as the last.

It was a low blow and we both know it.

"That's not what I meant..." I murmur, feeling guilty and entirely hypocritical.

Charlotte's choice to leave has always been a path I've intended to follow.

"I'm only ever a phone call away. You both know that," Charlotte replies, her voice suddenly much smaller. "It's not like I've abandoned either of you... I will always be there if you need me."

Although, from the look of guilt in her eyes, I can't tell who she's actually trying to assure: me or her.

"I know that, Char," I sigh, feeling like an ass. "It's just..." I sigh, trying to find a way to explain the reasoning that even I don't fully understand — a way to convince her that this is the best thing for Bailey when even I'm not yet entirely sold on the idea.

Bailey being allowed to hang out with the Coleman's is a gamble. It could win her the jackpot or cost her everything. I'm not naïve enough to forget what dangers their friendship could bring, and yet...

"She's happy, Char," I murmur. "Since hanging around with Alex, this is the happiest I've ever seen her. You've not seen the changes like I have... and not because you've abandoned her, but simply because you can't be in two places at once." I shrug, offering up a sad smile to ease the blow of the truth. "Bailey's not like us, she never has been. You know that. She's always struggled to cope with our past and it's left her... stuck. Even after moving in with the Crawford's, she's never been able to open up fully. Not with anyone new. She's never had the chance to just be Bailey."

"Jade..." Charlotte sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose like this whole conversation has given her the boss of all headaches.

"But she's herself around him," I continue. "She opens up around him."

"Look, I get what you're saying..." she says, and from the grim set to her mouth I can tell she means it. "But when it comes to a choice between someone's happiness or their safety — you choose safety. Every time."

Well, that's sort of the problem...

"But she doesn't feel safe," I reply, trying not to feel guilty for outing a secret Bailey didn't even want me knowing in the first place. "She told me she doesn't. And yet, she feels safe around them, apparently."

At this, Charlotte pauses, her confusion as obvious as my own. Her eyebrows scrunch into a frown. "Well that's... why wouldn't she feel safe?"

"I don't know," I admit, shrugging. "Maybe she's in some kind of trouble. Or maybe it's just all in her head and I'm overreacting... but that's not a risk I'm willing to take. Are you?"

Because I've made that mistake before — with Oscar and that damned letter. If that whole scenario taught me anything, it's that if I'm ever in doubt then overreacting is the best thing to do. It's better to overreact and the problem turn out to be nothing, than to do nothing and the problem turn out to be something.

"If Bailey was in trouble, she would've told us," Charlotte argues, shaking her head. "She would've told me."

"Would she, though? You mean like how she told you about all this crap with the Coleman's in the first place?" I ask, voicing a hunch I've had for a while. "Because I'm pretty sure the only stuff you know about Alex — about any of them — is what I've told you."

The look on Charlotte's face is enough confirmation. Bailey is hiding stuff from both of us, apparently.

"She's been kinda..." Charlotte sighs, sounding resigned as her shoulders droop. "Distant with me lately, I guess. I figured it was just because I've moved to uni..."

I frown. "She seemed fine with you this morning. Ecstatic, actually."

"Yeah..." Charlotte chews her bottom lip worriedly. "I guess so. But we don't talk half as much as we used to. Not about the important stuff, at least. It's different. And then she made this comment a few weeks ago..." she trails off with a shrug, not bothering to elaborate.

Damn. If even Charlotte's magic is failing, we really are fucked.

"Look, Char, I don't know what's going on with her," I sigh. "But I do know that destroying the one true friendship she's made in sixteen years isn't the way to go about finding out. She'll never trust us again."

"It's an awful lot to gamble on something that could be nothing," Charlotte mutters. "What if next time, it's Bailey being chased down the street by some knife-wielding loony? And all for what, a hunch?"

"There's something going on with her, Char. I just know it," I reply, adamant that I'm right about this. Charlotte's not seen what I've seen. "And besides," I add, thinking back to that night I got attacked, the look on Lucas's face when he assured me it wouldn't happen again. "I don't think they'll let that happen again. The Coleman's will look out for her. They won't let her get hurt."

Maybe. Hopefully.

Charlotte snorts a laugh. "You really think they'll care enough to bother?"

I try not to get too offended on the Coleman's behalf over my sister's complete lack of faith in them. Again, she hasn't seen what I've seen.

"Yes. I do."

Charlotte blinks, surprised by my resolve. Then she appraises me with eyes that seem to see far too much, before saying, "You've changed, sunshine. You're more..."

"Naïve?" I supply sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as I try to field the insult she's bound to throw.

"I was going to say open-minded," she says, rolling her eyes. Then she breathes out a laugh. "Maybe a little reckless, too. I think Bailey might be rubbing off on you a bit."

Maybe. Possibly.

I shrug. "I'm not saying it's a fool-proof choice," I'm starting to think there's no such thing, "but if we want Bailey to trust us enough to confide in us, we have to trust her, too. We have to let her make her own choices. She's not a little kid anymore."

"Why haven't you told Stella and George any of this?" Charlotte asks, frowning. "Because speaking of choices, it doesn't seem like this should be yours to make, Jade. It should be between Bailey and them. They need to know."

Maybe. Probably.

"I told them I'm worried about her. And they told me they agree that there's something going on with her," I reply. Then, when Charlotte raises her eyebrows expectantly, I add, "They want to send her to therapy."

Her response is instant, the way she closes her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that tells me she gets it.

"So now you see my conundrum," I mutter. "She won't open up to a therapist, and she's not being open with us right now, so how can we cut her off from the one person she does talk to without pushing her further away?"

It's a double-edged blade.

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," she mutters, shaking her head. "This was not the plan we agreed on."

I don't say anything else; I'm pretty sure I've said all there is to say. All I can do now is stand and wait, watching as Charlotte's eyes dart back and forth in contemplation. This time, she's the one making a decision.

With an agitated sigh, she finally nods. "Fine. I guess I'll have to spend some time with Bailey and see it for myself; I'm here for a few days. But I'm warning you now, Jade... if I see so much as one scrap of evidence to say you're wrong about this then I'm telling George and Stella myself — everything."

Well, I guess that's the best offer I can ask for, right now.

*********

Okay, this conversation with Charlotte was surprisingly hard to write and took me forever, so I'm just going to go ahead and pretend I don't hate it and crack on with the rest of the story. That's what first drafts are for, right? 🤷🏼‍♀️😂

Hopefully the next chapter won't be such a pain in the butt for me to write, haha.

What do we all think of Jade's decision-making skills right now? Would it be better to leave Bailey and Alex alone, or should she stick to her original guns and shut that shit down? Should she risk destroying her relationship with Bailey and fess up to Stella? Poor girl has been so back and forth, she hasn't got a clue what the right thing to do is anymore...