Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to  another: "What? You too! I thought I was the only one!" - C.S Lewis.

 Chapter Twelve: Hang on to that reality

Charlotte's POV

"Char, you're being ridiculous." Cat said to Char. You might be wondering, why was she here? Well, you see, Cat followed Char all the way home. Apparently she didn't get the hint that she wanted to be alone or she got it, as usual ignored it, and then she wanted to know what Char's problem was. Char laid on her bed, my iPhone in hand, opened Facebook and began scrolling through my news feeds. She paid no attention whatsoever to Cat and her inquisitiveness. She stood by the door.

"Charlotte," oh oh, here it comes, nobody ever called eerCharlotte unless it's... well you know. She sat up straight and looked Cat in the eye. Cat could be a lot intimidating when she wanted to. "You will talk to me now, or I will shove my hand so far up your ass, your ancestors will plead for mercy."

Whoa.

"Cat I'm fine really. I just want to be alone." Yeah, right. Like that will work. Cat came to sit by her side on the bed, glaring at the door.

"We both know that's a blatant and complete lie. Something's wrong, and I want you to tell me. We're friends, aren't we?" She turned her head to look at Char.

Char smiled. "You and I are more than friends. We're like a really small gang." She chuckled and turned to look at the door again. "You're right. Something's wrong. Hell, everything's wrong.” Sighing, she fell on the bed, focusing her gaze on the ceiling.

Cat waited for Char to continue, obviously knowing not to say anything. You know, it was one of the main reasons she love Cat. She always knew when to draw the line, when to talk, and when to shut the hell up.

"I got jealous. I saw him with crumpy Cynthia and I snapped. I know its stupid after all these years to still be harbouring this kinds of crazy feelings and I've tried Cat, really I have, but nothing's working. I even thought that by ignoring him, maybe- just maybe, I'd get over it. Stupid me." She felt a sting behind her eyes and didn't bother holding it back, letting it fall freely.

Cat fell beside her, also glaring up at the ceiling. "Honey, it's hard to let go of a first love. Trust me, I know. But how are you ever going to move on if you don't get it over with? Try talking to him about it. Tell him how you feel. He might just return the feeling. You never know until you try."

"I can't do that, C. What if he doesn't? He's never going to see me as anything more than a friend. I dread rejection, you know that.
I love him too much to lose him even as a friend. I can't do that." Char shook her head, making the tears falling more harder.

"Char?" She asked.

"Hmm?" Char looked at her.

"What if you knew something about someone, but someone doesn't know you know, and you also know that anyone would kill to know what you know about someone, but you can't tell anyone because someone would be ashamed and sad, what would you do?" She looked at her with wide eyes.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're trying to say but if someone doesn't want anyone to know, then anyone shouldn't know." Char told her, and Cat smirked and looked away.

"Your words, not mine." She said before standing up to leave.

Char decided that Cat was the weirdest person she knew, hands down. You'd think after pouring your heart and soul to a friend for advice, they'd help. Apparently not.

Daniel.

She wasn't ready to talk to him about her feelings. But what did she know, really, at the end of the day? Daniel and Abby had been together for a long time. What if he still loves her? Who knew how far and how deep their connection went? Marriages have recovered from worse blows, she was sure.
It doesn't matter. It's none of your business. if he still loves her or not is irrelevant. It doesn't change anything for you. Not a thing.

God, how she needed to hang on to that reality.

                    
    
       
                             ********************

They were sitting on the edge of the dock down at the lake. It took Daniel a moment to recognize it as the night before their graduation. Char sat opposite him in a pair of cutoffs jeans and a tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. They were drinking Coronas with slices of lime in the neck of the bottle. The air was warm, the moon full.

"Tomorrow's going to be a great day. The day when I finally become a full grown man." He said.

Char smiled and nodded. "It's funny. I don't see that happenimg any time soon. The chances of you becoming a 'full grown man' are less than humans walking on Mars."

He chuckled. "Its not my fault you're too blind to see all this." He gestured to himself.

They both laughed because he sounded like such a cocky son of a bitch.

"BU's calling. You gonna come visit me when I leave?"

"No. You're not going to want me hanging around. I'm kind of a pain in the ass." She shuddered theatrically.

"Damn right you are." He tilted his bottle toward her. "You need to go out of town. See the big wide world."

"Don't me sound me sound like some kind of hick. Boston is four hours away, in case you've forgotten. Besides I'm going to New York remember?"

"Right. I miss you already Char."

She stared at him. Then she braced her arms on the dock and pushed herself to her feet.

"Its too hot. Let's swim."

He almost choked on his beer as she reached on for the waistband of her tank top and pulled of over her head. She was wearing a red-and-black polka-dot bra underneath. He could see her nipples. He told himself to stop looking, but she was smoothing her hands down her body to the stud of her cutoffs.

"What's wrong, Danny? Not hot enough for you?"

Her voice was low, husky. She didn't sound like Charlee. Not the Charlee he knew.

She was watching him, her eyes heavy-lidded and smoky. She popped the stud. Her zip hissed as she slid it down. Then she tucked her thumb into the waistband and pushed her cutoffs over her hips. She was wearing making panties and he could see a shodow of blond hair through the lace. She stepped closer, standing between his bent knees. He looked up, his gaze traveling over her thighs, her belly, her breasts. He was so hard it hurt, his erection straining against the fabric of his cargo shorts.

He set his beer on the dock. Then he lifted his hand toward her.

Just one touch. To see if she was as soft and warm and lovely as he'd always—

Daniel jerked awake. The sheets were damp and he was as hard as a rock, his heart pounding.

He blinked, fragments from his dream lingering in his mind's eye. What the hell was that all about?

But he knew. The dream had been a tangled mess of memory and fantasy. Those stolen moments from the upper foyer today grafted onto the night eight years ago when he and Char had gotten drunk the night before their graduation. Needless to say, they'd gone swimming, sure, but she'd jumped into the lake in her cutoffs and tank top. And he'd certainly never tried to touch her.

He kicked off the sheet, trying to cool his body.

He was twenty six, not fourteen. Long past the age when horny  dreams and fantasies were commonplace. Especially about his best friend.

Gradually his heart slowed. He didn't understand what was going on, why he was thinking of Char in this way. Yes, he'd liked her a long time but it wasn't with this....intensity. It wasn't as though he hadn't slept with anyone else since he and Abby broke up. Hell, for a while there he'd been in serious running for man-whore of the year. There was no reason for him to be having these kind of wild thoughts about Char.

He rolled out of bed and reached for his clothes.

Five minutes later he was outside, hands deep in his coat pockets, shoulders hunched as he walked up the street.

Fog had come with the night and the streetlights stood out like small, glowing lighthouses in the gloom. He walked toward the hardware store and did a lap of the lake. He felt like the last man on earth, utterly alone.

The lights were on in the town bakery when he walked up to Vincent Street, steam condensing the windows. He wondered what time it was. Three? Four? He turned to head back to his apartment and was almost there when something flashed in his peripheral vision.

He stopped and started across the road at Char's house. The front windows were dark. As they should be.

Still, he'd seen something.

He crossed the street and peered through the glass windows. Adrenaline kicked through his belly as he saw a thin flashlight beam crawl across the wall of the house, just visible through the hallway.

    Someone was in there.

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He was about to dial emergency when it occurred to him that maybe it was Char inside. Maybe, like him, she'd been unable to sleep.

He broke into a jog and turned into the back of the house. When he reached the corner, he slowed and flattened his back to the wall. If it was really Char inside, he was going to feel like an enormous dick playing Starsky and Hutch out here in the middle of the night.

He eased around the corner and saw immediately that the backdoor had been kicked in. The lock had been ripped a substantial chunk out of the door frame before it had given way. Whoever was inside, they'd wanted in, big time.

He ducked back into the front of the house and called emergency.

"Please state the name of the emergency service you require." the operator said into his ear.

"Police."

"I'm putting you through now, sir. Please hold the line."

There was a click, then a short pause. Daniel used the moment to pull his thoughts together. A man came on the line.

"Victorian Police. What's your emergency?"

"My name is Daniel Miller. I'm outside the Winston's residence in Kingsmille. Someone has broken into the premises. They're still inside. I need you to get the local police here, stat."

"Please hold the line while I alert the local police, sir."

Daniel waited for long moments, his mind ticking over. There was no way the cops would get here for another ten minutes. Someone intent on destruction could do a lot of damage in that time.

He eased around the corner again and ducked his head through the open doorway. It was pitch-black, which meant the door at the other end must be closed. He hesitated for a moment then made a decision. This was Char's house and she was probably inside. No way was he going to stand by while it was trashed or she hurt.

He ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket, then he started up the back door, moving as soundlessly as possible.
He coud feel his heart pounding like a tom-tom in his chest. It had been years since he'd been in a fight, but he figured he still knew how to hurt someone if he had to.

His outstretched hand hit the surface of the door. He found the handle. Took a deep breath. Jerked the door open.