Tears Like Diamonds

Carlos awoke the next morning, his head immediately flooding with the events of the prior night. He tried to shake it, instead unpacking his bags. Kendall’s soft snores drifted to his ears from the other bed, and he allowed his lips to curve into a soft smile; it was nearly noon. When he was all set up in the ornate hotel room, he decided it was time to pay a visit to his parents. He left a post-it note stuck to Kendall’s headboard, and took off.

The Florida sun shone as he walked down the familiar streets. Each curve brought back a memory from his childhood, some good, some not so much. Nearly every single one was graced with Charlotte and her glossy chestnut waves. He knew it wasn’t right, but hoped she’d call him anyway.

“Carlos!” his mother called, enveloping him in a hug. He kissed her cheek, smiling as he followed her into the house.

“Hey Mom. How is everyone?” he inquired, taking a seat on the floral couch. His mom fussed over him, much to his dismay.

“We’re doing well. Carlos, we’re just so proud of you,” she gushed, her smile filling her whole face. The dark haired boy grinned, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Thanks Mom. I’ve missed you,” he admitted, and she nodded slowly.

“I missed you too, sweetie. Why don’t we get you something to eat?” He trailed her into the kitchen, sitting at the island as she floated effortlessly around.

“Hey, son,” his dad’s voice boomed. Carlos smiled, standing to embrace his father.

“How’s it going, Dad?” he asked, smiling up at the older man bearing much resemblance to himself.

“Pretty good. Quiet,” he said with a chuckle.

“Carlos, honey, would you mind running down to the store for me, and picking up some flour?” his mother asked, rummaging through the oak cabinets.

“Sure. I’ll be back in a few,” he responded, catching the car keys his father threw at him. He looked out at the scenic town as he drove to the small convenience store; the windows wide open as the radio blared through the speakers.

Just like the town, the small store seemed to be the same as he remembered. He took his time strolling through the building, making his way through the aisles towards the flour. By the time he made it to the checkout, his mind was swimming in recollections. Out of pure habit, he made his way to the third lane.

The woman took the bag from him, and he automatically handed her the money. He couldn’t help it; back in high school, it had been the only aisle he had ever used. Charlie had worked at the small store their whole four years, and it had been her register from the start. He used to come just to bug her, or to see her face. Again, the nagging thought that something about her had changed returned to him. Something about her seemed off in the never changing town.

The bell chimed above him as he left, and he tried to watch where he was going as he fished his keys out of his jeans pocket. A scream caught his attention, and he turned, his eyes darting over the small lot. He wove between the cars, trying to stay unspotted as he made his way toward the yelling. His jaw went slack as his eyes fell upon an enraged looking Charlotte Jensen.

“What the hell, Holdyn?” she yelled, the wind carrying her russet locks around her face. Her nostrils were flaring as she planted her hands on her hips, glaring up at the blond. Holdyn Mitchels was much bigger and better dressed than Carlos remembered.

“You should’ve told me, Charlotte!” he screamed back, a vein in his forehead looking ever-close to bursting through his sun kissed skin.

“I did tell you!” she retorted, her southern accent tugging at the vowels, making it hard to take her anger seriously.

“I don’t want you anywhere near him. End of discussion!”

Holdyn turned to start walking, but Charlie made no attempt at budging. Carlos ducked behind a white SUV, trying to remain inconspicuous. He had never seen Charlie fight with anyone, or look so angry. The glimmer of her engagement ring caught his eye in the Florida sun, and he almost walked away right there; this was not his place.

“Holdyn, he was my best friend. I’m gonna see him, whether you like it or not,” she called after him, a defiant note in her drawl. Holdyn turned slowly, his jaw clenched. Carlos felt himself involuntarily backing up in response to the look in Holdyn’s eyes, and it wasn’t even directed at him. Yet there Charlie stood, her chin lifted and eyebrow cocked, not moving a muscle. As much fear as Carlos felt, he was dumbfounded in the scene that unfolded before his eyes.

“I said, you aren’t going anywhere with him,” the blond hissed, his blue eyes cold as ice. One hand was wrapped around her wrist as he inched closer to her face. The other hand twitched, ready to make a move.

“Hey, is that you Charlie?” Carlos called casually, pretending to be walking past. Immediately, Holdyn dropped his grip, and a hint of annoyance passed across his face. Charlie smiled, as if the last minute or two hadn’t happened. Carlos could tell Holdyn was trying to do the same.

“Carlos Pena Jr., what on earth are you doing here?” she asked, shifting on her heel as she tried to process how much he had seen.

“My mom’s cooking,” he explained, holding up the starch white and blue bag of flour.

“Of course she is. Carlos, this is Holdyn, my fiancé,” she said softly, wrapping an arm around Holdyn, who pulled her closer, making it very clear to Carlos whose ring it was on her finger.

“Nice to see you again,” Carlos said stiffly, trying his best not to smack the smug look right off of his face.

“You too. Charlotte, let’s go,” he said, walking toward the store. Carlos wanted more than anything to ask her what was going on, but knew he couldn’t with him right there. He was at a complete loss.

“I’ll see you later, Carlos,” she said, giving him a smile over her shoulder as Holdyn pulled her away from the raven-haired boy.

“Bye, Charlie,” he called, kicking at the ground after they left. Something wasn’t right, and he had to do something. But what?