Worthy to Think the World Of

Charlie had not worn a dress in over a year, but she picked one out of her closet on Saturday morning. It was the colour of wine, one of Charlie’s favourite colours, and still fit her as well as it had the last time she put it on. But when she smoothed her palms over the textured fabric, memories from that happy day tingled up through her fingers and seeped into her veins, trailing up until they became a movie inside her head, moments flashing by like they were part of somebody else’s life.

“Logan’s totally checking you out right now, Charlie. It’s that dress. I knew buying it was a good idea.”

“You look amazing,” Hannah agreed.

Charlie looked down at herself, giddy, because she might’ve had a little bit of a crush on Logan all summer, and this was the last party before school started.

“What’s going on, ladies?” Dean asked, sidling up behind them and wrapping his arms around Sarah’s waist. He pecked her on the cheek, eyes flicking toward Charlie. She could feel him appraising her unabashedly, like he didn’t care if Sarah saw him. A tiny little butterfly fluttered to life in her stomach when his eyes met hers, filled mostly with curiosity, but also the faintest trace of desire.

That was the start of it. Little glances, smiles, even a few winks, whenever Sarah’s attention was averted. Charlie dated a boy called Will for a little while, but he never made butterflies erupt in her stomach with just a look like Dean could. They broke up in November, and she wasn’t even very sad.

When she stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself in the wine-coloured dress, Charlie couldn’t see the girl who’d worn it last. The girl staring back at her had messy blonde hair, a wild mane of curls that was still golden despite the cloudy sky, and a splattering of freckles across her face. She used to try and cover up those freckles with makeup, but it never really worked, and she used to spend hours straightening and brushing out her hair, spending hundreds of dollars on product to keep it glossy and healthy. It all seemed so fickle now.

There was a boy in this little coastal town who was better looking, kinder, and more caring than any of the other boys she’d met, and he liked her even though she never wore any makeup or brushed her hair. He liked her when she wanted nothing to do with him, and even more when she started to see him like he saw her.

Charlie slipped her feet into her sneakers, wanting to off-put the dress, and tucked her phone and keys into her purse. Both of her parents were at work today, so Charlie couldn’t ask one of them to walk Viola for her. But she had half an hour before Forrest was coming to pick her up, so she grabbed Viola’s leash and went out the back door, the terrier trotting at her heels.

The ocean was loud, the thundering roll of waves enough to cloud Charlie’s thoughts. She threw a stick for Viola, but the dog never committed to one thing for very long, and was soon chasing sandpipers along the shore. Charlie grabbed a long stick and trailed it along the sand behind her, leaving a deep groove that wound up and down the beach with Charlie’s uneven walking pattern.

She walked, thinking about nothing and everything, until it was time to turn back around. Viola raced ahead of her, waiting at the back gate far before Charlie got there. Charlie refilled Viola’s food bowl, then thought about putting on the kettle to make a cup of peppermint tea, when the doorbell rang.

When she opened it and saw Forrest, stood a few feet back with his arms folded across his chest, her heart swelled so much that she thought that it might burst. Since going to the cliff with him last time, she had done a lot of thinking about Forrest. About whether or not she was ready, if the risks were worth it, and most importantly, how she felt about him.

“Hi,” she said, clinging to the door with white knuckles.

“Hey,” he responded, his voice somber, and she knew immediately that today was not the day to tell Forrest how she felt. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she said. She locked the door and followed him out to the truck, hugging herself. She’d woken up feeling hopeful and happy, and now she was just confused, wondering how so much emptiness could be radiating off of Forrest, the brightest person she knew — except for Piper, maybe, but the redhead had a whole different kind of energy to Forrest.

Forrest didn’t say why he was jumping off the cliff today and Charlie didn’t ask. She believed that if he didn’t give up the information voluntarily, it wasn’t something he wanted to tell. They reached the trailhead and got out, walking through the woods in silence. Charlie had seen Forrest just yesterday and he hadn’t been this melancholy. Whatever it was, it was bad enough for him to jump off a cliff once a year and go to therapy in Tillamook once a week.

They reached the cliff and Forrest held his hand out almost instinctually, twining his fingers with Charlie’s as soon as her palm slid against his. His hand was warm, but she sensed that hers was more comforting this time around. Charlie stood close to him and wrapped her other hand around his bicep, feeling the muscles beneath her fingers through the material of his henley.

“I think it’s going to rain,” she said quietly, wrinkling her nose at the grey sky. The clouds darkened, almost as though they were responding to her words.

“It rained last year.”

Charlie leaned forward, her hands tightening around Forrest’s hand and arm, and peered over the edge of the cliff. The wind picked at her hair, lifting stray curls away from the rest. Forrest caught one and tucked it behind her ear.

“How am I supposed to find you after you jump?”

Then his hand was leaving hers, and the one that clung to his arm fell to her side, and Forrest pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. He set them in her left hand, then grabbed her right once more. “Drive down until you see a sign that says ‘beach access.’ There’s a place to park on the side of the road. I put a towel in the back. If you could bring that down with you, that would be awesome, because I’m gonna be fucking freezing. I’ve always had to trek back up the hill soaking wet and wearing board shorts, but I don’t have to do that this year because I have you.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows, but inside she could feel her heart shrinking back to it’s normal size. “Is that why you asked me to come? So I could meet you at the bottom?”

His face fell when he heard the hurt in her voice. “No, of course not. If that was the reason, I would’ve asked anyone to come with. You’re the only person I’ve ever brought up here, Charlie.”

She avoided his gaze, staring instead at the crashing waves. They scared her, but not as much as they had the first time.

“Okay,” Forrest said, more to himself than her. His hand left hers again, and he handed her his phone. He took off his flip flops and then his shirt, and Charlie miserably failed not to stare at his chest. Forrest looked at the jump and then at her, holding his shirt and his shoes and his phone, a determined expression on his face. The wind was stronger now, whipping at her hair and her dress, and she would be holding it down if she wasn’t carrying all of Forrest’s stuff. “See you at the bottom.”

But before he jumped, Forrest stepped toward her and cupped her cheeks, then kissed her like he’d wanted to for weeks, like she hadn’t known she wanted him to until then. Forrest tasted like the ocean, like the air after it rained, and a little bit like mint toothpaste. Charlie wanted to touch his hair, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips, but he was pulling away before she could drop what she was holding.

Charlie barely even caught her breath before Forrest grinned at her over his shoulder and leapt off the cliff. She gasped, running forward, just in time to see him hit the water. She didn’t breathe again until she saw his dark hair pop up amidst the waves and bob towards the shore.

Only once she was sitting behind the wheel did Charlie realize that she’d never driven this sort of vehicle before, and had no idea on how to operate it. She’d only ever driven her mother’s Honda, and the inside of it was nothing like Forrest’s truck. But after a few deep, calming breaths, Charlie started up the engine and turned onto the road.

It started to rain when she stepped out onto the beach, holding the towel under one arm and Forrest’s shirt and shoes under the other. Her pace quickened, and he stood from his spot on the sand to meet her halfway. He immediately pulled on the shirt and ruffled his hair with the towel, but the rain was falling harder now and it didn’t make much difference. Forrest grabbed Charlie’s hand, pulling her back to where she’d parked the truck.

The thunder started when they rolled down the main street in Cannon Beach. Forrest looked up through the windshield, staring suspiciously at the almost-black sky, and then turned to Charlie. “Want to come to my place? It’s closer, and I can hardly see the road through all this fucking rain.”

“Sure,” Charlie replied.

“There’s nobody home, anyway. They’re at my uncle’s house.”

Charlie thought about asking how he knew that, but didn’t. Forrest pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, and they both ran up to the door. But it didn’t matter that they were quick, both were still soaked through by the time they got inside.

“Should I make a fire? I feel like making a fire,” Forrest said. He glanced back at Charlie, eyes bright.

She didn’t know what to make of him. It was like jumping off that cliff had changed his mood completely, washed him clean of the dark thoughts that plagued him earlier, and made him into the Forrest she recognized.

“Is there wood?”

“We keep it in the shed, it should be fine,” Forrest replied, walking through the house. Charlie had no choice but to follow him, since she had absolutely no idea how to navigate Forrest’s home, and clenched her fists to stop from shivering.

They got into the kitchen, and Forrest was reaching for the back door when he looked back at her. His eyes took in her wet hair and dress, how the fabric clung to her pale skin, the goosebumps that ran up and down her arms and legs.

“Shit, you’re freezing,” he said, forgetting about the wood entirely and striding over to her. Forrest wrapped his arms around Charlie, but since his clothes were wet too, it only made her colder. “Fuck, um, c’mon, I can lend you something to wear.”