On the Fence

Chapter 27

I sat at my desk reading over the list of camp supplies I would need for next week. I had put down the pencil I was using to check off the things I needed to get because I had already gouged a hole through the first item on the list. Where did Braden get the right to judge Evan? And why? He didn’t even know him. He didn’t even want to know him. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that I was holding back part of myself. It wasn’t fair of Braden to say Evan wouldn’t accept me when I hadn’t given him the chance to.

I pushed myself away from the desk and stood, grateful for the distraction of work today. If I left now I’d be half an hour early, but I needed to get out of the house.

“Charlie,” Linda said with a smile as I walked in. “Your aura looks red today. Are you upset about something?”

She was starting to trip me out with her aura talk, which was usually right on target. “I’m fine. Boys are stupid.”

She laughed. “Do you need to talk?”

I held up the backpack of clothes that I needed to change into. I wasn’t sure why I still waited until work to change. Everyone at home had now seen me in my nicer clothing. It was tradition, apparently, to change at work. “No, I just need to get my mind off things.” I slipped into the back room and quickly changed.

When I came back out, Linda took both my hands in hers. “I’m sure your mom tells you this all the time, but it’s always good to hear frequently: we can’t let boys define how we feel about ourselves. You have to know who you are before you should let any boy worth anything in.”

I tried not to cringe at the mom reference. My mom doesn’t tell me anything, I wanted to say. But I couldn’t. It was too late to come clean. And besides that, I did know who I was. At least I thought I did. I was a girl who grew up without a mom and therefore had no idea how to be a girl. Here I was acting like a huge fake not only to Linda, but to Amber and her friends. When did I become so unsure of myself? When did I ever need to be like someone else? I just needed to get away. Basketball camp would be a good break. I nodded. “Thanks, Linda.”

She squeezed my hands and then said, “I have some paperwork to do in the back.”

Halfway through my shift, Skye came in holding an ad. “Ooh la la, Charlie. I didn’t know you modeled.”

I thought she was kidding, when she slid across an ad for the bridal store and there I was, in several shots promoting their makeup line. I noticed two things right away. One, this was not just some cheap paper flyer like Linda had printed out that sat by the register for customers to grab when they came in. It was a nice, shiny color ad a couple of pages long. And two, the pictures weren’t extreme close-ups, like Antonia had promised, but my whole body sitting in that chair . . . with my very recognizable face.

I could feel the blood drain as I stared at the ad.

“You okay?” Skye asked.

“I—” I met her eyes. “This isn’t . . .” My face felt numb and I wanted to sit down right there behind the register. If my dad saw this, he was going to kill me. “Where did you get this?” Maybe they hadn’t put out the ad yet. It was a local business. Maybe she knew the owner or something. After all, why would Skye be getting ads for a bridal store?

“In the mail.”

“The mail? Your mailbox?”

“That would be the one.”

“Crap.” My adrenaline kicked in and I suddenly felt like running around the city collecting every last ad from every last mailbox. “When? Today?”

“Yes. Just now.”

“Can I . . .” I pointed to the ad.

“Yes, keep it. I never go to that store.”

“You never go? So do they just send their ad out to everyone in town then?”

She folded the ad in half and handed it to me. “No. I was a bridesmaid once and got put on their mailing list. Now I get their ads all the time.”

“Their mailing list? Their mailing list. They have a list. You’re on it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” I was not on their mailing list. We never got their ads. Nor did anyone I knew. I had never even heard of the store before I had helped out Antonia. My shoulders relaxed.

Skye headed for the back, but she stopped halfway there and turned around. “Charlie. I didn’t mean to offend you the other night at the concert.”

“Offend me?”

She used her thumb to point over her shoulder. “About Linda. I didn’t mean she’d replace your mother or anything.”

“Oh.” I suddenly remembered how she told me Linda would soon be as important to me as she was to her. “No. It’s okay. I know.”

She looked at the floor. “Linda has helped me through a lot. My mom left when I was little. . . .”

I took a slow breath. Now was the time when I told her I hadn’t had a mom since I was little either. When I made her feel understood. When I became more understood myself. When I stopped being a fake. I opened my mouth, but she turned without looking up and quickly walked to the back. Who needed to be understood anyway?

To be safe, when I got home, I checked the mail. Happy to see the pile of envelopes inside, meaning I was the first one to check it today, I gathered them in my arms and flipped through the stack. There were a few ads, but not the dreaded one. Now that the shock of it had worn off, my mind spun. They used me in an ad. Without my permission. That was so wrong. Then I remembered the form the guy had asked me if I’d signed. Oh no. Some other girl signed a paper giving them permission to use her image and I filled in for her that day. This was so unfair. I wondered if she was getting paid for this.

I shut the mailbox and took a few steps toward Braden’s house. I needed someone to talk to and his was the first face that flashed through my mind. Halfway to his door, I stopped with a sigh. He was still mad at me, and I was still mad at him for how big of a baby he had been about Evan. And for how mean he had been to me because of it.

I pulled out my phone and called Amber.

“What a coincidence. I just got off the phone with Braden.”

My head whipped over to Braden’s house as if he’d be standing there, hanging up the phone. The porch was, of course, empty. I gave it a dirty look and walked up to my front door, entering the house. “Really? How’s Braden?” I didn’t mean to say his name with a hint of sarcasm; it just came out that way.

“He’s good. He told me you were going to some sort of basketball camp next week.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I didn’t know you played basketball.”

I took a breath. “I do. And soccer.”

“Cool. But too bad you’re going to be gone because I’m having a party next week. I wish you could come.”

Cool? That’s how simple it was to be myself? I just had to tell her? I felt stupid. “Yeah. I’m going to be gone. But we always do an end-of-the-summer thing here at my house after I get back. You should come.”

“Of course. Sounds fun.”

I walked up the stairs, my feet telling me I was still upset about the ad by how loud they sounded on each step. “So hey, did you happen to see the ad the bridal store put out today?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m in it.” I realized I said that sentence really loudly and looked around to make sure nobody had heard me. The coast was clear, so I went into my room and shut my door.

“What? I didn’t know you modeled.”

I resisted rolling my eyes and said, “I don’t. It’s images for their new makeup line. I was in there that day helping out Antonia. I guess the girl that should’ve been there signed a form. I claimed I was her because they were being all weird about parental permission that day. Now I know why.”

“Oh, crap. That sucks.”

“Exactly. What should I do?”

“Unfortunately, it sounds like you . . . well, she . . . kind of signed over creative rights to your image. I guess if you got a lawyer involved you might be able to challenge it. But you lied about it, so I don’t think you’ll have much recourse there. Are you in big trouble?”

“Are you kidding me? My dad hasn’t seen it, and he won’t if I can help it.”

“It’s just a local ad, Charlie. It could be worse.”

I sank onto my bed, feeling defeated. “I know.” This was my payback for all the lies I’d told lately.

“Try not to let it get to you. It’s something that people throw in their recycle bins after barely looking at.”

“You’re right. I’m glad I’m leaving for a week. Hopefully it will get my mind off everything.” And there were so many things that “everything” meant.