Age Is But a Number

Nick grinned at Caitlyn and pulled the chair out for her to sit on. He was rewarded with a smile and a stroke of the cheek; her fingers lightly touched his now red cheek and slid off his face as she sat herself down on the cushioned chair. He went to his seat across from her and thanked the waiter without looking at him (his gaze was fixed on Caitlyn’s as she looked around at the beautiful restaurant). Speaking of it: its walls were painted with murals of French art, so gorgeously painted and perfected with a careful, steady hand whose owner knew what he or she was doing. The lights were dim and music played softly from the live band near the front of the restaurant.

“Nick,” Caitlyn said, her gaze following the painted river till her eyes reached Nick’s face, which was blocking the end of the river. “This is all so beautiful. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Just smile,” he said. “That’s all I want.” She did as told and messed with the perfectly embroidered table cloth. “You can talk too, I guess.”

She laughed softly. “I just . . . I’ll admit, I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” Nick asked with a smirk, and he suddenly found his head a little too heavy for his neck.

“Don’t get a big head, dorkasaurus,” Caitlyn scolded, taking the wine glass filled with ice-cold water and taking a sip. “I should say I’m excited. To be with you, I mean. I get to talk with you without having to worry about Charlotte and Kevin.” She laughed without humor. “Well, not exactly.”

“We seem to talk about those two more than anything,” he commented, seeing the worry in her down casted almond-shaped eyes. “Can we focus on each other? Just for a little while?”

Caitlyn looked up at him and said nothing. He was afraid he had offended her. He had to remember that her best friend was someone she thought of constantly. She had told him that Charlotte was one of her main concerns and, before the two began living together, she never knew if she was going to see her friend the next day because her dad finally had destroyed her for good, locked her up or got angry enough to . . .

“I’m sure I was overreacting,” Caitlyn said, looking at Nick’s hand that rested on the table, palm up, almost inviting. She thought of Charlotte’s slightly enlarged legs, the sensitivity to them, and thought, for once, maybe she was overreacting. Charlotte was still well enough to go on her date with Kevin and enjoy herself, wasn’t she?

It was time Caitlyn enjoyed her alone time with Nick.

She grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his, inviting the warmth and letting it warm the ice in her stomach, the worry that never seemed to go away since she met Charlotte. She knew they would call if anything happened.

“They’ll call us if they need anything,” Nick said to her, echoing her thoughts. “I care about them, too, but right now, we should focus on the two of us. It’s you and me, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn smiled playfully. “What a scary thought.”

Nick winked at her before bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing it, and letting their hands rest on the table again.

They talked about so many random things at first, like sports, food, and feet. Caitlyn hated feet; Nick was ticklish on his feet. That’s when Caitlyn began asking him more questions that helped her know Nick more: Did he enjoy being on a tour bus for months and months? What did he dream of in his sleep and for the future? Did he like sushi? She was interested in all his answers, laughing when he said he dreamed of her and when he said that the bus felt like a torture chamber because Joe was on it too, and hours on the road “does things to you, and there’s already enough going on with Joe.”

“It’s your turn to be interrogated,” Nick teased.

“Bring it,” Caitlyn said with a head wiggle and a snap of her fingers. Then she laughed at herself. “That was lame.”

Nick laughed, and he imitated her. “Wow,” he laughed. “It probably looked lamer when I did it.” He made a face and stopped when Caitlyn began mimicking him in return. He raised a brow, Caitlyn copied, and he began making weird faces, like wiggling his eyebrows while pursing his lips at the same time and twitching one eye and opening his mouth open in a large “O” – things like that, and she only mimicked him. They burst into laughter when Nick tried doing the “taco tongue” and watching Caitlyn make a clover with her tongue.

He asked her what things made her smile, what things made her sad, angry, and excited. Her answer to the first question was him, and he smiled. His smile stayed as she began explaining what made her excited: volleyball, jumping up to spike a ball on to the other side of the net, making an ace. The news, rain, sunsets and chairs made her sad.

“Why do sunsets and chairs upset you?” he asked curiously. “I can understand the news and rain, but the other two confuse me.”

“Sunsets make me sad because,” she explained, “it’s the end of a new day, and it was usually when Charlotte left my house.” Her eyebrows furrowed and her smile left her pretty face. “They didn’t make me sad before I met her. When she would leave right as the sun was setting, I knew it was going to be an agonizing twelve hours until I would see her at my door the next day with new bruises or another scar.” Caitlyn stared down at piece of untouched bread on her bread plate, thinking of the many times Charlotte met her at her door in the morning with bruises on her arms, her shoulders, and her face.

“Caitlyn,” Nick whispered, saddened by the look of unease and sorrow on his date’s face. Seeing her sad was one of the most heartbreaking things he has ever seen.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She grinned at him. “Told you they make me sad. I almost threw up on you during a sunset, remember?”

He laughed. “How can I forget?” he laughed. “You know, Caitlyn, you amaze me.”

“Do I?” she giggled. “And why is that?”

He was speechless, unable to comprehend the fact that he just word vomited. Again. For the fiftieth time that night. “I just word vomited,” he explained, a smile creeping onto his face. “That was not meant to come out.” Caitlyn laughed at him. “I can’t believe I just said something without thinking it through! I guess you amaze me because you bring out this disorganized part of me.”

“Just don’t go blaming me when you misplace something.”

“No, I blame you for something else,” he said before taking a swig of his water.

“Really now? And what is that?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in her chair.

He saw the waiter coming towards them with a tray full of food. “Stealing my heart,” he answered nonchalantly, and he smiled politely at the waiter as he stopped in front of their table.

“Now tell me,” he continued, liking her blush and smile too much, as usual, “why do chairs upset you?”

.:-:.

Despite the lightheadedness and shortness of breath, despite the weakness of her limbs – her whole body – Charlotte pushed Kevin behind her as hard as she could and got in between him and her father. If Harold was going to hurt anyone, she would be the first he hurt, not Kevin. She couldn’t promise she could protect him because she felt so incredibly frail, but she knew she would try her hardest to stay between Kevin and her dad.

“Charlotte,” her dad said, and pulled out his switchblade. “It’s time for you to come home.”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Don’t piss me off even more, Charlotte,” he said, a vein popping out of his forehead. “You already pissed me off enough. I need money and the only way I can get it is by selling you off!”

“Go to hell!” Charlotte shouted, almost falling over with the intensity. Kevin caught her and held her up, holding onto her with all his might, keeping her in his arms.

“Taking you might be easier than I thought,” Harold said with a grin, and he walked closer to them. Kevin tried backing up but soon he ran out of room, and Harold backed him up into the dugout that was behind them. “Nowhere to run, Kevin.”

“You are not taking her,” Kevin said to Harold, who, now that he was closer to him, smelled like a mixture of body odor, booze, and something else Charlotte recognized as drugs. “You can’t; I won’t let you.”

Harold held the knife up, showing it off to Kevin. “I cut you once, dickhead. I won’t hesitate to do it again, and maybe this time I’ll actually kill you.”

Charlotte, as hard as she could, use the distraction to kick her father right in the family jewels, and Harold groaned as he went down, face purple, dropping the knife. Charlotte pushed Kevin and told him to run, get away from here, but screamed in pain when her dad grabbed her tender, swollen ankle. Kevin kicked him in the face until he let go, and pulled Charlotte with him as he began to run.

“Oh no you don’t,” Harold said with a struggle, his voice straining because of the pain in his groin, and he grabbed Charlotte’s ankle once more, pulling her down and dragging her towards him when she fell with a large thud. Her fall was so sudden and hard that her hand was yanked from Kevin’s.

Kevin turned around and was about to run for her but stopped dead cold when Harold held Charlotte down with one arm and held the knife to her neck with his other hand. Harold tsked a couple times, looking down at Charlotte’s neck. “Look at that pulse go,” he said with a cocky smirk. “If we’re not careful, she’ll exert herself, and we all know her heart can’t handle that.” Charlotte wriggled, trying to break free, but stopped when the knife nicked her neck and blood welled up. “Just sharpened the knife, and I’m glad I did.”

“Let her go,” Kevin said forcefully, not letting Harold see how afraid he was inside.

“You know, with all the trouble she’s caused, I don’t know if I want to keep the bitch,” Harold said, acting like this was a normal conversation. When he was high he was so amused by everything, and this was darn right entertaining.

“Kevin, just go,” Charlotte ordered, and she sounded surprisingly calm. Years of hiding emotions were beginning to kick in. “Please.”

Kevin took one step forward, and Harold ran the knife across Charlotte’s neck just enough to open the cut that was already made a little more. “Take another step and her head comes off.”

Charlotte was trying to think straight, but was having trouble doing so. Her heart was beating painfully fast, the knife was cold against her skin and the cut stung badly. Her father’s stank was filling her nose and she recognized the smell of the monster: crank. It was all clouding her mind and making her dizzy. She could not do much but she knew the one thing she had to do was get Kevin to leave. He was going to get hurt or killed if he stayed much longer.

So, to show Kevin that she was going to get away, though she knew she wouldn’t, she bit her father and stood up, telling Kevin to run.

Kevin didn’t even turn around; he just watched in horror as Harold stabbed Charlotte on the side of her neck.

“Charlotte!” Kevin shouted, watching the girl he loved fall the ground and choke on her own blood.

All he could hear was the insane laughter coming from Harold and Charlotte’s sickening gargling. To his amazement, she managed to say his name, and struggle to get on all fours. With venom and anger running through his veins, Kevin ran towards Harold and tackled him to the ground, punching furiously and trying to grab the knife before Harold could end Charlotte for good.

Harold let out a stream of cuss words, calling Kevin every name in the book. The two men rolled around on the ground, punching and kicking one another so hard they heard each other’s bones crack. Harold, at one point, grabbed a big enough rock and tried to hit Kevin in the head with it, and only managed to hit his shoulder. Kevin cried out in pain but fought on, using the adrenaline rush to ignore the pain and fuel his rage.

With a final kick to the head, Kevin got Harold off of him and was able to run over to Charlotte, to find her struggling to get up. He wondered how on earth she could still be able to pull herself up and even breathe, but only for a millisecond before he helped her up and caught her as she began to fall. He just had to get her away before –

Before a searing pain mushroomed on his side. He looked down and found Harold pulling the knife from Kevin’s side and, before Kevin had time to react or scream, stabbed him again, and again. Kevin tried to fight, but Harold had pushed him down and was now straddling him, knees on Kevin’s elbows in a painful way, holding the knife over his heart. Kevin saw the hatred in Harold’s eyes and the fear turned into hopelessness.

“Any last words, asshole?” Harold asked with a triumphant smile on his face, dragging the tip of the knife slowly across Kevin’s chest, across his ribs, and across his stomach, pushing the deadly weapon into his abdomen little by little.

“Charlotte,” Kevin gasped past the pain coming from the multiple gashes across his torso.

“What the f - ?” he asked before the bat made contact with his head, and a sickening crunch rang through the park. He fell to the side, taking the knife with him, away from Kevin’s heart.

“Charlotte,” Kevin repeated, looking at the girl he loved in pure shock and panic when he saw her holding the bat up, blood streaming from the gaping wound on the side of her neck. It was truly a miracle.

Until she collapsed next to her father.

.:-:.

Caitlyn dragged her finger across the now empty plate, gathering the sauce left from her meal onto her fingertip and licking it off with a moan of pleasure. “That was probably the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten,” she said, repeating the process.

“I’m glad,” Nick laughed. “I would have disappointed if you hated it.”

“How could I hate it?” she said, licking her finger once again. “It was crafted by angels.”

“I’m sure the kitchen staff would be very flattered to be called angels.”

Caitlyn smiled at him bashfully. “Sorry, I’m being a total Miss Piggy. I’ll stop licking my fingers.”

“Don’t, it’s sexy,” Nick said, and his eyes widened and he downed his drink so he wouldn’t have to explain.

“What was that?” Caitlyn asked, totally missing the amazing compliment.

Nick held up a finger and chugged the water. When he was done he said, out of breath from gulping down the water, “Nothing, I . . . I just said, uh, the food was good.”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at him and chuckled nervously, wondering what made Nick suddenly explode with weirdness. “Okay,” she chuckled. Then she sighed. “Nick, I’m sorry, but . . .”

“Oh crap, this is the, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ moment isn’t it?” Nick word vomited again, and he buried his face in his hands. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and peaked at her from beneath the cover of his calloused hands. “Girl, you got me going crazy, if you couldn’t tell. Please, continue while I wallow in embarrassment.”

“Don’t worry, you’re cute, so it doesn’t matter,” she said, referring to the time he said the same thing when they got to the hotel at the beginning of their vacation. Nick figured it out and he smiled back at her.

“Nice song reference, by the way. I just,” she continued, “feel like Charlotte is not okay. I don’t know why. I thought, at first, maybe I was overreacting when I saw her swollen legs, but I -”

“Swollen legs?” Nick repeated, concern washing over his face. “That’s not good.”

“I know, and I know you know since you researched about her heart failure,” Caitlyn replied. “She told me it was nothing and went off on the date like it was really nothing. But her legs were sensitive when I touched them and it hurt her. I should have kept her home, I know it.”

“I knew something was bugging you,” Nick said. “Though, I admit that the egotistical part of me is glad it wasn’t me.” Caitlyn grinned but it quickly faded as she dug into her purse. “Gonna call her?”

Caitlyn nodded and put the phone to her ear after she hit the speed dial. Nothing. It rang and rang, but no answer. Caitlyn looked at the phone.

“I’m sure she’s having fun with Kevin,” Nick said, reassuring his date. He reached over and grabbed her chin, pulling her face to meet his. He stroked her cheek and felt that they were hot beneath his fingertips. He pulled away as he said, “Call again in a little. After dessert, maybe?”

Caitlyn nodded. “The Strawberry Savarin looked divine,” she replied.

Nick hailed the waiter. As he told him what they wanted for dessert, Nick thought of Caitlyn, what he had found out about her: she was sensitive, embarrassed about her feelings, giggly, extroverted, and almost like his brother in the way she liked to make others laugh. She was athletic and had a passion for volleyball and her “unbiological sister” Charlotte. He knew she was caring, but he never realized how protective she was of Charlotte. He saw it when Charlotte ran into the hotel room crying after Kevin was caught with Laura. He saw a fire in her that set him aflame.

And, he realized, all these things about her were making him fall even harder for her, and he knew that he was hooked.