Don't Give up on Me

Six am on Saturday and Sunday mornings were moments I lived for. It was as if after a hard, grueling week of school and work, the universe granted me the time to unwind and relax. The universe also gave me the most beautiful sunrises to photograph for a future piece. The photos were supplied by none other than Charlotte, who was just as fascinated as I was.

I wasn't sure how these mornings between us came to be, but I was very grateful to have them. Since she and Brian transferred schools for their senior year, we hardly saw each other anymore; it was like going from seeing each other every second to five at most.

Then, one Sunday morning, she rang the doorbell at 5:30 in the morning, bright and cheery, and asked if I go to the pier with her. "I bought you some coffee," she added, bribing me with caffeine. At the time, it was still warm enough for a T-shirt and shorts, so I dressed in that plus a pair of Chucks, and followed her down the beach.

I remembered being so irritated at being awoken at such an early time, due to the fact that I had worked a double shift the day before and then went to the studio and worked until two am. I didn't even get to finish my complaint when she shushed me and positioned her camera. Then the magic began, as she liked to call it. The sun slowly crept over the horizon and its light touched everything in sight. Hues of orange mixed and faded into blue, the clouds nearby darker in contrast. I heard click after click on her Canon and felt my mind almost doing the same, capturing the moment with every blink of my eyes.

The irritation suddenly vanished, and I had found something to rival with my odd fascination of the stars and astronomy. "Wow," I had muttered, unable to think of anything better to describe the moment.

"I know," she replied, sighing as she lowered her camera. "It's different every single time."

"I need to paint this," I said, still staring at the sight before me. My fingers were itching to pick up a paintbrush, or a piece of chalk, and recreate what I was seeing.

"I knew you'd say that," she grinned, leaning onto the railing on her forearms. "That's why I made you come with me."

It was just what I needed after basically being shunned at my father's wedding. When she came again the Saturday after that, I wasn't upset whatsoever. I was smart enough to bring a Sketchbook and drawing pencils with me to at least help capture part of the beautiful sight. She was right; each sunrise was different. Sometimes the sky was still a dark purple near the water; sometimes the sky was almost the exact shade of red my hair was. It was always different, and always ingrained into my mind.

We used this time to talk, to hang out. We hung out outside of our little trips, but we never spoke of anything serious. This was our time to confess secrets, to talk shit, to do what we wanted.

This morning had been no different, aside from the layers we had to wear due to the chilly November mornings. I had finished sketching, and she had put her camera back into its travel case. I had sensed something different about her since the moment she knocked on the door, and now I could finally figure out what it was.

"So, I have some big news," she finally started, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Do tell," I urged, turning to face her.

"I got into an early admissions program at the Art Institute in Santa Ana. As soon as we graduate in May, I'll be in their honors program and get to study Photography with professors during the summer," she said with the biggest grin on her face.

"Are you kidding?! Charlotte, that's amazing!" I gushed, hugging her tightly. "Congratulations! Have you told Brian yet?"

"He was there when I opened the letter last night. You two are the first to know," she replied. "My mom wants to throw a party to celebrate, especially since I'll be on a full scholarship and she won't have to pay for anything but my new equipment, which isn't much considering how much it is per semester. But, you know how rowdy everyone gets..."

"First, I've just got to point out: you said 'mom' instead of 'mum', which only means that you're slowly turning American, finally," I grinned, making her laugh. "Second, remember my surprise party? If your parents and family are gonna be there, we know how to tone it down. Besides, the guys'll end up throwing you a party, too, so don't even worry about it."

"You're right," she said after a few moments of thought. "I'll tell her when I get back in later."

While the party her mother did end up throwing for her the following weekend was great, the one that Serena and the guys and I put together was even better. It was crazier, larger, and as energetic as she was. Held at our parents house, the party was huge. Laura and my father were still in Jamaica for their honeymoon and wouldn't be back until December, meaning that we were in the clear for about two more weeks. The staff had been given a paid vacation, and Serena's house and backyard had enough space on either side that the neighbors wouldn't be bothered with what was going on. Meaning, there wouldn't be a repeat of what happened almost exactly a year before.

"Alright, everyone, Jimmy would like to make a toast," Cara announced to the backyard, her drill team voice still with her, as loud as ever. She was on her Thanksgiving break and ready to party, just like I knew she would. Surprisingly, so was I, and was engaged into all of the events happening tonight.

The crowd hushed, save a few voices, giving Jimmy his cue. "Charlotte, you have been one of my best friends since the seventh grade, when you moved here and was too shy to speak to anyone. Now, you've become my little sister who's going to start the rest of her life soon, and I must say, I'm proud of you. You always work for what you want, and you've earned everything you've gotten. Good luck out there, Char," he said, then raised his red cup into the air. "This is for you, Charlotte."

"To Charlotte!" everyone cheered, then took a drink.

"Eesh, Andi, how much whiskey did you put in this?" Violet complained, making a face.

"Enough to make you warm," I replied back, taking another sip of my own drink. "If you can't handle the burn, let me know and I'll make you something lighter."

"Shut up," she snarled, sucking it up and nursing the drink slowly.

"It can't be that strong," Zack rolled his eyes, taking my cup and getting a taste. "It's not ba- fucking Christ, Andi."

I smirked. "Lightweight."

"You're going to be the worst tomorrow morning, I can see it already."

"Then enjoy me now, because I'm not going be much fun when I'm sober."

"I know I will. Drunk Andi is a hell of a lot more fun than Sober Andi," Violet muttered under her breath.

"Thanks," I said, my voice full of sarcasm. She laughed and walked away, out of range for any insult I could throw back.

"Am I that bad?" I asked him. His response was to turn away slightly and pretend to be interested in the fact that his cup was empty.

"Have fun with your hand tonight, then," I shrugged, and started to walk away. His hand instantly wrapped around my wrist, stopping me.

"I'm kidding."

"You better be, because I'm not."

"I'm aware."

Our attention was diverted back to Charlotte, who was currently still in one of Jimmy's bear hugs, though she looked like she didn't mind at all. The party was just as loud as it was only minutes before, as if nothing had happened. Zacky's arm was firmly around my waist, protective, as always. I was grateful, due to the fact that even though it was obvious that he and I were together, guys still leered at me, and it was discomforting. I remembered when he came up to Jason, Logan, and I at Violet's party last year, looking at if he wanted to hit his own friend just for talking to me. One year later, nothing had changed, except that he was able to call me his girlfriend.

"So, your birthday is coming up. What do you want me to get you?" I asked after we had gravitated towards the same balcony he had looked down at me from a few weeks before. I sat on his lap, a little bit too buzzed to care if people saw us.

"You. Naked. That'd be pretty sweet," he said casually, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I rolled my eyes. "Stop being a perv. I'm serious. Name something reasonable and it could be yours."

"Five records from your grandfather's collection," he said with a serious face.

I almost laughed. "You're joking, right? Those are for my future kids to enjoy, to carry on his legacy. I can't even let Ryan go through them, it's that serious."

"Well, if our future kids are going to listen to them, then shouldn't I be a caretaker of five of the six hundred million you have hidden in your closet?"

My eyes caught his, curiosity burning at how he had said 'our kids'. Had the thought actually gone through his mind?

The moment passed. "I mean, if you feel that strongly about it, I'll back off," he adds quietly, backpedaling a few paces.

"No, no, I'll get you the records. I trust you with them," I assured him genuinely. "Anything else?"

"My request from before still stands," he says, then takes a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, well, you're going to have to earn that one, just like every other time," I replied, crossing my arms.

"I haven't had you in two weeks and you're going to tease me like this? You're going to fucking kill me someday, Andi." He lowered his voice, even though we were completely alone on the balcony. I blushed, knowing exactly how he felt.

"I didn't say you couldn't start now," I told him in response. "You act as if it doesn't affect me, too, because it most certainly does."

He eyes trailed towards the French doors,to his empty cup, then back to me, silently communicating where he wanted to go next. "The whiskey's gone."

"And is giving you bad intentions," I added, but couldn't help but grin. "At least find a room with a lock this time, babe."

"If that's what it takes, then it's done," he said, easing me off of him and leading the way inside.