Chapter 8

Charlotte

“It’s date night,” Ned told us. “That means you two are responsible for cooking your own dinner tonight.”

Juan groaned. “We will starve.”

“You can order takeaway,” Andrea suggested as she descended the stairs.

She was dressed in heels and a long, elegant black dress. Her hair was blow-dried, and her lips were painted pink. She looked like an older version of Juan.

“These two will never be independent if we keep doing everything for them,” Ned warned.

“You’re right,” Andrea said. “I’m ready. We can go.”

Ned went first so that he could open the door for Andrea, who looked at Juan and pointed to the bread. I could see money for takeaway sticking out from under it. Andrea winked, and Juan smiled.

Once our parents were out of the house, Juan asked, “Do you want pizza or a burger?”

“Pizza,” I said. “Hawaiian.”

“Good choice,” Juan said. “I’m going out tonight. Are you okay being home alone?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You can always come with me.”

“Home alone sounds fun.”

Juan rolled her eyes and switched on the television. It was already dark outside, and I realized I had not given Dimitri a time to visit.

I went up to my room where Amore was waiting on my bed between the many pillows. The dog lifted her head when she saw her favorite human.

I sat down next to her and scratched her ears. After a while, I heard the doorbell ring, and when I went downstairs, Juan had already paid for the pizza.

Each of us had our own pizza, and Juan ended up eating most of hers. I left more than half because I expected to feed Dimitri once he got here.

Once Juan was done, she went upstairs to get dressed for her night out. I went to my room and put the pizza box on the bed. The house was quiet, but I did not switch on the television.

Juan was listening to music, which I could hear through the walls. My sister was moving around in her room, and it sounded like she was trying on different pairs of shoes.

I opened up my bedroom window. There was no wind, and it was nice to let fresh air into the house. Amore snorted as if she agreed that fresh air was needed.

I heard Juan open her bedroom door and shout, “Bye!”

“Bye,” I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else.

Juan went down the hall, down the stairs, and I heard her close the front door. Then I waited.

“He’d better not stand me up again,” I told my dog.

I heard the front door swing open and footsteps walking through the kitchen. The footsteps were approaching fast.

“Juan is that you?” I asked. “Did you forget something?”

The footsteps were picking up speed. And then they stopped. I held my breath and focused on listening. Amore was sitting upright on the bed and staring at the door.

I got to my feet and left my room. I paused in the hallway and checked my reflection in the mirror. I was alone in the hallway. Had my sister come in and run out again? I expected such behavior from her.

I headed toward the stairs and started to slowly descend. There were no footsteps in the house other than mine. Once I reached the bottom, a shiver of panic rushed through me.

The front door had been left wide open. Juan would not do that.

“Hello?” I called. Only silence answered me.

We lived in a safe neighborhood, and we had never had a break-in before. Ned always told us to be cautious and to keep the doors locked. No one ever listened. Was today the day I would regret it?

I rushed to the front door and slammed it shut. I locked it and took a step back, while keeping my eyes on the door. I felt like it would swing open and someone would burst through at any moment.

I could not help but visualise the murderer. His hair was black as night with gray streaks in it. His stubble was like thorns, and his cheekbones were sharp enough to cut.

His big nose could smell my fear, and his long legs would always outrun me.

I swallowed. The man had no idea who I was or where to find me. I was just being paranoid.

I turned around. My house was quiet, and most of the lights were off. The light above the kitchen island was on, and the knives glinted.

I went back upstairs. That was when Amore started to bark angrily. I wanted to run away, but I could not leave my dog. I ran to my room and paused in the doorway.

Amore was standing and barking at the window. Someone was out there. I wanted to cry out but could not find the courage.

A hand reached into the house and grabbed hold of the window sill.

Then Dimitri pulled himself inside. He leaned against the window and observed me gaping at him.

“That is quite a climb.”

“Dimitri!” I exclaimed.

“Did you expect anyone else?”

I ran a hand through my tangled hair and tried to calm down. “No, you just scared me.”

“That was not my intention.” He sounded sincere, but there was a contradicting, playful smile on his lips. He clearly enjoyed scaring me.

I swallowed, unable to find humor in the situation. “Were you downstairs?”

“What?”

“In my house,” I explained. “Did you open my front door?”

He laughed. “If I opened the front door, do you really think I would have gone through all the effort to climb this tree?”

He had climbed the tree next to the house so that he could get to my bedroom that was on the second story. He couldn’t have been the one who had opened the front door.

“How’d you know this was my bedroom?” I asked.

“I saw you through the window and guessed,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Amore still barked. I walked over to her and rubbed her ears. “He is a friend, relax.”

She growled at him when he took a step closer. Although she could not bite hard, because she was old and didn’t have many teeth left, he kept his hands to himself.

“She doesn’t like me very much,” he pointed out.

“She doesn’t like men,” I said.

“I did not know a dog could be sexist.”

“She is a rescue animal. I’m not sure what happened in her past, but I’m guessing a man abused her. She is scared of all men, including my dad, who she has lived with for years.”

“That’s terrible,” Dimitri exclaimed. “She’s lucky that you found her.”

“She is.” I was feeling warm inside. Being around Dimitri was distracting me from my fear and paranoia from only moments ago. “Do you have any animals?”

“No, my mom is allergic to their hair.”

“You can get a fish,” I suggested.

“That’s the most boring animal.”

“They are easy to maintain.” I shrugged.

“Maybe my little brother would like that,” Dimitri said.

“How old is he?”

“Eight,” Dimitri said.

“Are you two close?”

“I love him more than anything in the world.”

I liked that he had a brother. I felt that children who grew up alone were more selfish and never learned how to share properly.

The adrenaline was wearing off, and I grew cold. I went past Dimitri and closed my window. Amore would not take her eyes off the stranger.

“I saved you some pizza,” I said, as I looked out of the window.

“I ate at home, thank you.”

As I checked the street, I asked, “Where is your car?”

He looked down. “I totaled it.”

I gasped and looked him up and down, but there weren’t any visible wounds. “Are you alright?”

He nodded. “Yes. I was driving home from a friend’s house, and some drunken idiot drove into me.”

“My dad is always warning me about reckless drivers.”

“He is a wise man.”

“I’m really glad you are alright.” I meant it.

He smiled as if it was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a while. His reaction made me think that he was not surrounded by people who loved him and who took care of him.

“If you did not drive yourself, how did you get here?”

“One of my friends dropped me off at the end of the street. From there on, I walked. I figured it would be best if your parents don’t see a car—since they don’t know I’m sleeping over.”

He did not have a duffle bag or anything with him. Boys were much more low maintenance than girls. When I went to sleepover, I packed most of my closet and took it with me.

“That’s considerate,” I said, “but my parents are out on a date night. They will be home late. My sister is also out, but she would not have told on us.”

“She sounds cool.”

“She has her moments.” I smiled. “What are we going to do tonight?”

“I’m the guest,” he said. “Entertain me.”

Amore picked up on my calmness, and her growling died down, but she still eyed Dimitri warily.

“I have a lot of movies,” I suggested.

“You also have a lot of books,” Dimitri said, and went over to my huge bookshelf.

“What can I say? I’m a nerd.”

“I’ve read most of these!” Dimitri said.

Then the two of us started talking about books and how much we loved stories. I had no idea that Dimitri was such a big nerd. It made him even more attractive.

“What would your favorite genre be?” I asked.

“Anything medical,” he said, to my surprise. When I frowned he explained, “Academic books. I want to become a doctor.”

“That is a tough career.”

“It is, but it is also rewarding. I want to find a cure for cancer.”

I smiled sadly as I remembered that he had mentioned that his father passed away from cancer. “Do you feel that way because of your dad?”

Dimitri looked down. “Because of my brother.”

I was puzzled, and it must have showed, because Dimitri elaborated.

“He has multiple myeloma. There is no cure, and the doctors don’t expect him to be with us for much longer.”

I reached out so that I could squeeze Dimitri’s arm in sympathy, but he pulled away before I could.

I made a mental note that everyone grieved differently. Maybe he was not used to receiving support and love. Maybe he did not know how to handle it.

“I don’t know what to say.” I did not take his reaction personally.

“Don’t say anything.” His eyes met mine. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I did not want to ruin the mood.”

“Nonsense. I like that you confided in me.”

He returned my smile. Then he looked at the television, and our moment passed. “I think we should watch a movie.”

I had not watched movies with a boy alone before. I wondered if he was good at cuddling. A horror movie should get him to move closer and hold me . . .

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Not really,” he said. “I hardly ever get scared.”

“Why is that?” I wondered. “Don’t you believe in ghosts and demons?”

He shrugged as if dismissing the idea. “Do you?”

Instead of answering, I flipped through the movies until I found one. I offered to make popcorn, but he did not want anything.

Then I closed my bedroom door and switched off the light. The big television allowed us to still see well in the room.

Dimitri sat down comfortably on my chair at the desk. I lay down on the bed with Amore in my arms.

Was he trying to be respectful? Did he know I wanted him to sit next to me on the bed? Was it too soon?

The two of us talked more, then we watched the screen. After a while, I lost track of the movie. Had I watched it alone, I’d be terrified by now.

Dimitri had a good sense of humor, and he knew how to laugh. He gave me compliments, but did not come on very strong.

I got up to go to the toilet. I opened the door, and just as I was about to close it, my room door swung open. I spun around with my heart hammering. I was in so much trouble.

With the television on, we had not heard the garage door open, nor the kitchen door being unlocked, and we had not heard it swing open.

“Hello,” Andrea said, and entered my room.

I looked from my mother to the desk where Dimitri had been. He was not there anymore.

“Hi,” I said, tense.

“I heard voices. I thought you might have a friend over,” Andrea said. She hadn’t seen him—great!

“It’s just the television.” I gestured to the movie that was playing.

“What are you watching?” Andrea asked, clearly irritated. “These horror movies are horrible! They will give you nightmares.”

She walked over to the bedside counter, where the remote was. She turned down the volume and switched to a music channel.

“You know I don’t like it when you watch those things.”

“I know,” I said.

I was desperate for my mother to leave. I could not tell her to go, so I just stood awkwardly in the bathroom doorway.

Andrea tried to look past me—as if I was hiding someone in the bathroom. When my mother came closer, she opened the door wide.

“Seriously, Mom? You think I’m hiding someone in the toilet?”

Andrea shrugged. “It’s something I would have done at your age.”

“You should know me better than that,” I said.

Andrea gave me a goodnight kiss. She took one last look at the room before closing the door. Then there was silence.

“Is she gone?” Dimitri asked from under the bed.

“How did you get under there so fast?” I asked.

He crawled out from under the bed and laughed. “It must have been the adrenaline!”

“Be quiet,” I said. “We don’t want her to come back.”

I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, Dimitri was smiling at me. I smiled back from all the excitement and fell down on my bed again.

I felt strangely alive and wondered if this was what the heroines in my stories felt like. From there on the two of us whispered.

“Clearly you like books more than movies,” Dimitri said.

I nodded and looked at him instead of the television.

“So why do you work at the DVD shop?”

“To get out of the house and for the money.”

“You can’t make a lot of money doing that,” he said.

I shrugged. “It gives me time to read.”

“Maybe you should find a job you enjoy,” Dimitri suggested. “Life is so short. You might as well do something that makes you happy.”

“I’m not like you,” I said. “I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t know what I want to be one day. I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”

“What do you enjoy doing?” Dimitri asked.

“I enjoy cuddling my dog.”

“Maybe you should be a vet . . . ”

“But I don’t like needles,” I confessed.

“You like books. Do you write?”

“No, I read.” I winked at him, and he sighed. “It’s hard, I know! I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do for sixteen years.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said.

“If not a doctor, what would you be?” I wondered.

“An artist,” he said. “I love drawing.”

“Draw me something.”

I pointed to the desk where my crayons, pencils, and notebook were. It was the green notebook with the silver patterns on it that he had bought for me. I had already eaten the chocolate.

Hesitantly, he picked up a pencil. He opened up the notebook and smiled when he saw his name and number. He drew in the light that the television provided.

I could not see what he was drawing. It must have been detailed, because he took his time. My eyes were slowly closing.

When I opened them, his attention was still fixed on the notebook. I closed them again and fell asleep to the sound of pencil on paper.

When I awoke, it was morning and Dimitri was gone, and I could only wonder at what time he snuck out. I loved sleeping late—that was one of the reasons I chose to work in the afternoons.

I wished I had been up earlier so that I could have said goodbye. When would I see him again, and how would I contact him if his phone was broken?

Outside, the yellow, orange, and red leaves were turning brown. They were piling up in the yard. I looked out of the window, but there was no sign of him. He was long gone.

I stretched and swung my legs out of bed. I went to my desk and opened the notebook. On the second page, Dimitri had drawn a gorgeous pink orchid.