ready to talk about it, I am always here ready to listen.’
She thought about all the times he wasn’t there when she needed him and almost snapped out a blistering comment. But knew she was being unfair and said nothing. Once the table was clean and the dirty dishes stacked in the dishwasher, she slipped out on the balcony to call Lucy. She tried her home phone first. When she got voicemail she left her a message: ‘Lucy, I think maybe somebody I know did a bad thing but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just trying to act tough. Maybe she was trying to scare me. Or maybe it’s just one big joke. I don’t know what to do. I need your advice. Call me anytime, day or night.’
She thought about calling Lucinda’s cell but decided if she was still at work, she was busy with something. It’s time I stopped running to her like a baby every time I have a problem, Charley thought. It’s time I stood up for myself and solved my own problems. She formulated her schedule for the next morning. She’d set her alarm to get up before her dad and slip out of the house before he came downstairs. Then she’d go over to Twelfth and Jefferson and find out if there was any truth to what they said. If they were telling the truth, she could deliver an eyewitness account of what she saw. Or, if it was nothing, she would never speak of it again.
She went online and printed out walking directions from her condo to the apartment complex. Just over a mile and a half, she could walk that in half an hour – no sweat. And she should be able to do that, check out the scene and get to the school before the first bell. She fell asleep with a smile on her face; she had a plan of action and that was always better than sitting still waiting for things to happen.
TEN
T he moment Charley’s alarm started to ring the next morning at five thirty, she slammed it off and got dressed. She made sure she had some money to stop at Starbucks and snuck out of the house. She avoided the lobby by taking the elevator down to the garage and slipping out through the rear entrance.
When she stepped up to the counter at the coffee shop and ordered a grande latte with an extra shot, the barista gave her a peculiar look. ‘You know that’s three shots of espresso, don’t you?’
‘Of course, I do,’ Charley said.
‘Are you sure you’re allowed to have that?’
‘I thought the customer was always right,’ Charley snapped. ‘I have the money,’ she said, slapping a ten-dollar bill on the counter. ‘I don’t think there’s a law against serving a minor coffee, is there?’
‘OK, OK, just don’t come back here whining or send one of your parents in here to yell at me,’ the barista said as she took the money and returned her change.
The pick-up counter was above her head, but she reached up and grabbed her drink when it arrived. The guy at that end said, ‘Hey, little girl, are you sure that’s yours, it’s a latte with a triple shot.’
‘It’s mine,’ Charley said through clenched teeth.
‘Are you sure you don’t you want some hot chocolate or something?’
Charley just turned and walked away. She was so tired of being treated like a child. She stalked out of the store, praying for more height soon. When she arrived at the complex, she spotted the model apartment sign displayed just as prominently as the girls had said it would be. She circled around back and saw the big trash can below a busted window.
She tossed her empty coffee cup inside the receptacle and tried to hoist herself up on top of it, but she was too short to get the needed leverage. Looking over the area around her, she spotted a pile of wooden pallets. She dragged one over next to the can, stood on it and realized she still wasn’t high enough.
She grabbed another one and struggled to get it up on top of the first. She shoved on it to make sure it was sturdy and then scrambled up on the trash receptacle. She pushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face and
She thought about all the times he wasn’t there when she needed him and almost snapped out a blistering comment. But knew she was being unfair and said nothing. Once the table was clean and the dirty dishes stacked in the dishwasher, she slipped out on the balcony to call Lucy. She tried her home phone first. When she got voicemail she left her a message: ‘Lucy, I think maybe somebody I know did a bad thing but maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was just trying to act tough. Maybe she was trying to scare me. Or maybe it’s just one big joke. I don’t know what to do. I need your advice. Call me anytime, day or night.’
She thought about calling Lucinda’s cell but decided if she was still at work, she was busy with something. It’s time I stopped running to her like a baby every time I have a problem, Charley thought. It’s time I stood up for myself and solved my own problems. She formulated her schedule for the next morning. She’d set her alarm to get up before her dad and slip out of the house before he came downstairs. Then she’d go over to Twelfth and Jefferson and find out if there was any truth to what they said. If they were telling the truth, she could deliver an eyewitness account of what she saw. Or, if it was nothing, she would never speak of it again.
She went online and printed out walking directions from her condo to the apartment complex. Just over a mile and a half, she could walk that in half an hour – no sweat. And she should be able to do that, check out the scene and get to the school before the first bell. She fell asleep with a smile on her face; she had a plan of action and that was always better than sitting still waiting for things to happen.
TEN
T he moment Charley’s alarm started to ring the next morning at five thirty, she slammed it off and got dressed. She made sure she had some money to stop at Starbucks and snuck out of the house. She avoided the lobby by taking the elevator down to the garage and slipping out through the rear entrance.
When she stepped up to the counter at the coffee shop and ordered a grande latte with an extra shot, the barista gave her a peculiar look. ‘You know that’s three shots of espresso, don’t you?’
‘Of course, I do,’ Charley said.
‘Are you sure you’re allowed to have that?’
‘I thought the customer was always right,’ Charley snapped. ‘I have the money,’ she said, slapping a ten-dollar bill on the counter. ‘I don’t think there’s a law against serving a minor coffee, is there?’
‘OK, OK, just don’t come back here whining or send one of your parents in here to yell at me,’ the barista said as she took the money and returned her change.
The pick-up counter was above her head, but she reached up and grabbed her drink when it arrived. The guy at that end said, ‘Hey, little girl, are you sure that’s yours, it’s a latte with a triple shot.’
‘It’s mine,’ Charley said through clenched teeth.
‘Are you sure you don’t you want some hot chocolate or something?’
Charley just turned and walked away. She was so tired of being treated like a child. She stalked out of the store, praying for more height soon. When she arrived at the complex, she spotted the model apartment sign displayed just as prominently as the girls had said it would be. She circled around back and saw the big trash can below a busted window.
She tossed her empty coffee cup inside the receptacle and tried to hoist herself up on top of it, but she was too short to get the needed leverage. Looking over the area around her, she spotted a pile of wooden pallets. She dragged one over next to the can, stood on it and realized she still wasn’t high enough.
She grabbed another one and struggled to get it up on top of the first. She shoved on it to make sure it was sturdy and then scrambled up on the trash receptacle. She pushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face and
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