On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 19

My hair has gone longer and darker. They've become duller, too. My ocean blue eyes are still as sparkly as ever. My eyebrows are turning a light shade of brown. Why is that? My lashes were sticking together. Ugh, gross. I blame the cheap drugstore mascara I bought last week. My heart-shaped lips are pinkish. Must've been the lipstick from last night.

I sighed.

After a few minutes of staring at myself and having some time in the mirror, mom called me from downstairs.

"Charlotte, we're having breakfast at ten. Come help here!"

"I'm coming, mom," I said in a whisper.

I know she can't hear me. I just can't bring myself to shout back. My throat is as sore as James must've been last night. Disgusting thoughts go away! I take back what I said. My throat's just not feeling well today.

I tied my hair in a tight bun and rinsed my face.

"Where have you been, honey?" Mom asked as she handed me a mac and cheese dish.

"Just up in my room, being with myself," I forced a smile. I'm tired and I'm not happy.

"Are you having friends over this weekend?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Okay, that's good. Do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Something's off. Why is mom so interested in my plans all of a sudden? It's getting annoying, especially now. I’m much more irritable today.

"No, mom. I'm spending today studying." I groaned.

She looks slightly hurt and taken aback. What did I do wrong? I shrug off the guilt. I didn't do anything. There's nothing to be guilty of.

"Honey," she reached out for my hand. Why is mom looking so concerned? If anything, she should be happy I’m prioritizing my education.

"Mom? What's wrong? You're being all weird." I sighed. I'm feeling extremely drained today.

"Unbelievable, after all your parties, you forget it." She walked away and I became more troubled. What am I forgetting?

I've done all my chores. I even did my brothers' share of the work. What am I missing here?

"Hey sis," Leo said, casually picking an apple from the table.

"Is today anyone's birthday?" I asked, just to make sure. But I am certain that no one's celebrating anything today.

"No....." He eyed me. "But it is Crinkles' third week, does that count?"

I rolled my eyes at him and made my way to Xander's room. I knocked on the door, which was already open.

"Xander," I called. "Is today anything special?"

"If you count Crinkles' third weeksary today," he chuckled.

I slammed his door shut. What am I forgetting?!

I trudged back downstairs only to find my glum-looking mother. I approached her, willing to find out what I was missing out on.

"Mom?"

She let out a sigh. "What d'you want, Charlotte?"

"I'm sorry if I forgot it. It just slipped out of my mind. I'll just make it up to you." Lie. You still don't remember what it is you're supposed to remember.

"Charlotte, you don't even remember."

I let out a sheepish smile. Of course, she'd know when I lied. I'm a bad liar. And she's my mother.

"Mom, I'm sorry if I forgot anything, okay? Just tell me what I'm supposed to remember. Please." I begged all in one breath.

"Go to your father," she ordered sternly.

Then it hit me. Dad's company event. Oh s**t.

I rushed to dad's office where he was typing away. I could see the disappointed look on his face. Now I'm guilty. I went to a B’s pool last night and I forgot dad's important event. All he wanted was to spend time with me.

Darn, I messed up big time.

"Dad?"

"Hey sweetie," he didn't turn around to look at me. Now I know he's disappointed. "What you doin' here?"

"Dad, I'm sorry if I overslept."

"It's okay, darling." He smiled at me. But I could see it was forced.

"What time do we leave then?"

"Sweetpea, it's fine. You should take more rest. I know you're tired."

Since when did dad use so many endearing nicknames for me in one conversation? I sound like the sweetest thing on earth when all I've done is forget my dad.

"Dad, please let me make it up to you."

He frowned. "Honey, it's fine—"

"No, dad. I mess up. I forgot your event today. And I'm gonna make it up to you." I protested.

"Well, it's too late for that. It started at six in the morning."

Why would any event start that early? Doesn't matter.

"Well, I think we still have time to catch up," I glanced at the wall clock. It was already nine.

"Seriously sweetheart, we don't have to. It's okay."

"It's not okay, dad. Just let me make it okay, please?"

Thirty minutes after that conversation, dad and I were dancing away on the makeshift dancefloor. It was ten in the morning and the heat was taking in full blast. But it never stopped us from having fun.

We were in a wide-open grassy field where the company event was held. So, I found out that six am was supposed to be a "dad-jog off" but, well, we missed it. We also missed a few games—not that I mind missing the catch the pig and egg race—and right now everyone was taking a break.

A sturdy-looking man was approaching us on the dancefloor. We stopped dancing and dad's face turned serious. But a small smile still lingered on his face.

I'm glad I made him happy.

"Mr. Smith," the man smiled at him with a business tone. I sensed that this was going to be a serious conversation about business stuff, so I excused myself to get a drink.

"Okay, sweetheart, just don't wander too far," dad reminded her.

It's not like I could wander anywhere. It was miles and miles of wide nothingness and grass. Where am I supposed to go? Behind the cow?

I made my way to the mini tent that the company set up. Inside it were tables and chairs and, of course, food. I poured myself pineapple juice and grape juice for dad. He loves them.

I decided to linger at the table of food and drink for a while. When I glanced at dad, I could see that they were pretty engrossed in their talk. It's got me curious all of a sudden.

I don't think you'd like to hear businessmen talk, Charlotte.

I was pouring my third pineapple juice. This stuff is good!

"Charlotte," a high-pitched voice called from behind me. "Nice seeing you here."

I turned around to see a smirking blonde guy. Who is he supposed to be?

"Umm, do I know you?"

"Are you joking with me?" He looked offended. Hell, I'd know who he is.

He scoffed. "You hurt me, Lottie."

I chuckled. Who is this guy? "Okay, give me something to work with. What's your first name?"

He glared. He must have realized that I was not joking. "Does Kenny ring a bell?"

Oh.

The smartass. The English-class smartass.

"Kenny Hastings, right?"

I smiled and played nice. Being civil won't hurt. Especially because we're in a public place. Being immature would surely embarrass dad.

I don't want that.