On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 51

“Uh, Charles has been texting me nonstop, looking for us. I told him we just had to get some air.”

I returned to where James sat, underneath a big tree, on its roots. We had been inhaling fresh air out here for more than fifteen minutes. The party inside had begun to dissipate. Yet James hasn’t spoken a word to me since we got out.

“Do you maybe want to talk to me? Before we go back in?” I asked, trying to get an answer from him. But he doesn’t respond. “James, what are you mad about? Is this about me dancing with Adrian? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but you can’t tell me what to do or who not to talk to. This isn’t third grade.”

“It’s not about the goddamn dance,” he groans, looking up at me, finally giving me more than just averting eyes. “I just don’t want to lose you, Lottie.”

“Dude, this is like our second day of dating. You’re not losing me, yet, maybe.” I joked. “And how the hell did you arrive to the conclusion of that you’re gonna lose me after seeing me dance with Adrian? By the way, he’s not much of a dancer. I can’t tell you how many times he accidentally kicked or stepped on my foot and my shin.”

“Oh, come on. You dated the guy for a year. That must’ve counted as something.”

“It did then, but it doesn’t now. Why is that such a big deal?”

“I guess I’m just scared you’d see how good you had it with him then, and leave me or something. You went through a lot with him. His leaving took a lot from you. I know those as facts.”

“Did you hear the words that flew out of his mouth earlier? I could never bring myself to befriend someone as horrendous as that. I don’t even know what his problem with me is.”

“I did. He’s a forking jerk,” he replies.

“You are already a hundred times better than Adrian ever was to me, okay?” I cup his cheeks between my palms, kissing the top of his head.

I get it. We all feel a little insecure sometimes. The world is round and running. We can never be too sure of where we stand. Even if I had to reassure him of my affection every minute of every day, I wouldn’t mind. I would give the world to never see a tear streak down his innocent face.

“We should head back in,” he mutters.

“Where did you park again?”

“Um, by the adjacent street, actually. Just a block or two down here. Why?”

“Then, let’s not go back in. I have all my things, so do you,” I suggested.

“But Charles and Beatrice–”

“Clara is throwing an afterparty if you’re interested? B knew this anyway, and Charles was willing to go. How about you?” I asked him directly.

I’ve been waiting to dump this out on him. While he was having the time of his life with everyone he knew, Clara was taking time to personally invite people over. I had a certain frenemy standing with the girl, but a party is never a bad idea.

“Oh,” was James’ silent response.

“Why? If you don’t want to, it’s okay. We can not go. There’ll be dozens of parties in the future, anyway.”

“No, it’s not that. I’d want to but I kind of have something planned for both of us. B and Charles included if they want to.”

I know I’m a sucker for adventurous expeditions, which is why I never try to conceal my squeals of joy.

“Charlotte, calm down,” He cackles at my visibly giddy eyes.

“Oh, just tell me what you have planned already,” I grunted, a bit anxious.

“You know how Ferraris are a fast breed of car?”

I began jumping up and down in glee, realizing where this was going.

“I kind of planned for us to have turns driving it around the abandoned oval stadium. I don’t have to return it to Evan until next week, anyway.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I shrieked at the excitement and stooped down to his level to hug him tightly.

He quite literally gasped for air, but I didn’t let go of him until I felt satisfied. I am not a big car freak. But to drive a Ferrari? Even just for a night? What a dream.

“Why the hell would you hide that from me though?” I smacked his arm, gathering up my composure. Immediately, I began dialing up Charles and B’s numbers to text them the astounding news. I hesitated about messaging on group chat and decided not to.

Ross was so engrossed in B’s memes and funny anecdotes of the winter formal that I honestly would feel bad if I interrupted them. Besides, I didn’t need to rub this in Ross’ face. I know she was somewhere in life in the car fanatic group. She really didn’t need another thing to regret about flying to Brazil.

“It’s a surprise, Charlotte. I didn’t even plan on telling you about the Ferrari until you saw it for yourself. But life throws you curveballs,” he chuckles, getting up.

“It really is pretty cool to ride in a Ferrari, and to drive in one, ugh,” I squealed again at the thought. I’m not an inexperienced driver. But I certainly won’t say I’m an experienced one. I only started driving a few months ago, after Adrian and I broke up. Alex taught me to get out of my weakened spirit.

It worked. But only for a few weeks. I got tired of it almost immediately. It gets tiring when the one thing you thought you’d enjoy, because not all of your friends can do it, turns into a reason for my parents to keep me out of the house with endless chores. It turned into a nightmare, having to drive mom into Sunday Church groups, grocery shopping, and so much more that I just decided to stop driving. It’s not like I had my own car to drive, anyway. I was using my parents’. I just told them my wrist felt odd and injured and I shouldn’t be driving in such ‘unsafe’ conditions. They ate it up, but mom was especially disheartened. She had to go back to driving herself to Sunday Church groups.

We were walking to the car when my phone rang from my purse. I pick it up and hear Beatrice’s voice at the other end.

“You weren’t joking when you said we’d be driving the sweet little thing around tonight, were you?” She asks for assurance, which I don’t understand since I’m the last person in the group to play a prank.

“No, I wasn’t. We’re actually walking over to the little baby right now. Where are you, anyways?”

“Good, I’m just making sure. Charles’ date ditched him,” she screams into the mic. There were a lot of rumbling noises and car screeches in her background which were hurting my eardrums.

“For Clara’s party? That sucks,” I remarked.

“No, she had to go home early to babysit her brothers or something. But it does suck, Charles is pretty disheartened,” The apprehension in her voice was evident, but I didn’t get why she was feeling that way.

“Does Charles still want to come? He might feel better after driving such a sweet thing.”

“Who is it?” James interrupted me as we got to the car and he opened the passenger seat for me. I signaled him to continue on as I conversed with Beatrice.

“Yeah, but I’m not so sure he should drive. A couple of his nerd friends have been handing him shots, thinking I won’t notice. And his drunk-ass is showing. You two had better get down here. I am not babysitting this mess,” B instructs in an irked tone. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to watch a fifteen-year-old with relationship issues.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Where are you again?”

“The same entrance we all dropped out of,” she mumbles before ending the call. The last I heard was Charles’ voice, screaming in the near distance.

“Who was that?” James asked again after I had kept my phone in my purse.

“It was B. Charles is drunk and Beatrice is pissed,” I tell him, laughing.

I can’t wait to see Charles’ drunken face. How delightful would it be to catch a few snaps of his first drunken moments?

“Well, isn’t someone happy?” James observes and grins to himself.

“B said he was quite literally exposing himself. I don’t know what level of drunk he is, though.”

“We’ll know for sure once we find them. Where are they again?”

“By the front entrance.”

We drove off and arrived at the said destination in a flash. It didn’t even take us a minute to spot the wild, inebriated boor who was taunting people on the street. A lot of students were still exiting and couldn’t help but take videos of the childish stunt Charles was pulling. Beside him, though, was Beatrice with one hand clutching her heels, and the other pulling Charles away from the bystanders and trying to get him to sit down on the sidewalk.

We were parked on the opposite side of them and as the street was dimly lit, they couldn’t see us.

“I’ll go fetch them,” James mutters, taking off his seatbelt. A few Sophomores lingered in front of the car, mumbling compliments about such a sweet ride. But James was too occupied at the sight of Charles’ foolishness to even acknowledge them.

He rushes to the odd couple opposite us, and I see them approach the car again. Charles was mumbling something which made James laugh and Beatrice’s eyebrows met with annoyance. They reach the car, and I meet them outside the car.

“I swear I am never getting drunk nor get drinks with either one of you if this is how you’ll be behaving,” she grunts in annoyance, holding Charles to make him sit still.

“I’m not always like this!” Charles slurs, interjecting Beatrice’s rants.

I chuckled at their banter. James, on the other hand, started to look distressed.

“Dude, you were supposed to drive the other car,” he shakes Charles, who just laughed at him. “How about Sarah Lynne?” He turns to us.

B shakes her head, “She ditched him. Got a ride from one of her friends and headed home.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” Charles muttered almost incoherently.