Oh Charlotte

Charlotte James has been struggling for her identity for years before she finally decides to come out to the people who love her. Turns out finally admitting something she's known for years doesn't solve all of life's problems, as she continues to learn things about herself that she never thought she would.

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1. Chapter 1

I had a special place in my heart for Tuesdays. Even though it wasn’t the middle of the week just yet I could feel the Monday blues slowly slipping away as I slid into my inky leggings and pulled my purple jumper over my head. With a swipe of lipgloss and a tussle of my wild curls, I was out the door. The cool March air whipped against my face and I lightly jogged to the bus stop, rubbing my hands up and down my arms to attempt at warmth. The yellow monstrosity pulled up to the cub and I grinned in relief as the dirty doors squeaked open. My best friend Janet waved from the back as she always did and I nudged her side while squeezing into the torn gray seat that we sat in since the sixth grade.

“How you been chica?” she flung an arm over my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug.

“You saw me yesterday I haven’t changed that much,” I chuckled, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. We’ve been known as the old married couple of Northern for as long as I could remember, but the awkward dating stage of our relationship was long gone. I came out a few years ago, after being violently hidden in the closet for as long as I could remember. Saying it was a little dramatic would be the understatement of my eighteen years of living. It’s been two years and I could see the horrified expression of my mother screaming “Charlotte!” as the dining room chair scraped back on the white tiles. From “pick a side” to “you can’t have them all,” let’s just say that being bisexual has been a bit of an adventure.

“Char, you know I like to know what you’ve been up to. And you also know as a best friend you’re pretty much obligated to ask me how my date with Ray went,” she wiggled her eyebrows and laughed.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true. My own little Janet went through the annoying experimental phase and I was her guinea pig. “Let me guess, he did something so incredibly romantic you almost cried?”

“If you call necking in his Range Rover incredibly romantic you’ve got another thing coming babe,” she pulled down her shirt collar to expose a dark purple bruise on the side of her neck.

I rolled my eyes and playfully punched her arm. “Still keeping it classy, eh Rhodes?”

“Always Char, always.” She shook her head slightly with a hint of a smile at the edge of her pale lips.

I remember when we kissed for the first time and I honestly wished I could remove it permanently from my memory. She was so awkward she put her hands on my shoulders and stood at least five inches away from me as if I would bite. That was sign #1 that the poor girl wasn’t part of any damn rainbow and I was the supportive best friend who ignored all the red flags and went along with the charade for a good two months before she cracked. I snapped out of my reverie and saw the giant gray building that was Northern. “Ready for hell Jan?”

“Oh honey you know I come with the devil horns and all,” she smiled before yanking me out the doors and back into the crisp air. 

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