Chapter 2

Charlotte

I parked in my usual parking space that I chose because it was close to the shop.

When I got out of the car, I shivered. The autumn breeze was cool and quickly convinced me to put on my stylish jacket that rested in the passenger seat.

One of the things I liked most about Columbus was the four seasons it displayed so clearly.

Winter was white and freezing. Spring smelled fresh, and the flowers were beautiful. Summer was long and warm. Autumn was colorful and gorgeous.

I rubbed my eyes with my right hand before reaching for my pink handbag that was also on the passenger seat.

I was not tired, but my contact lenses made my eyes itchy at times. I considered wearing my glasses more often, but I felt I looked prettier without them on.

I locked my car and made my way to the DVD shop. The other employee greeted me politely before leaving and letting me take over. I took a seat, placed my big handbag behind the counter, and looked around the shop.

As always, it was empty. The only thing I liked about my job was that it gave me a lot of time to read. These days, with so many alternative options available, few people rented DVDs anymore.

I took a book from my handbag and started reading. It was a fantasy novel with a fearless heroine, and I often wished I was like her—living life to the fullest and falling in love.

Everyone in my books had such epic lives, and I read about them during my uneventful one.

I often read at work because the manager was never here to scold me, and there were hardly any customers. I couldn’t help but wonder if the place would soon be out of business.

If someone entered the shop, a bell would ring to alert me, and I’d immediately put down my book so that I could help them.

Many people were walking the shopping center’s halls. Most only came here over the weekend to do their shopping. I could hear them chatting as they passed the DVD shop.

I focused on my reading instead of my surroundings, and I was so immersed I barely noticed the three boys standing across the shop. One of them was a tall boy with dark, curly hair.

Dimitri

“What are you looking at?” Josh, my shorter friend asked.

I ran my hand through my hair and did not respond. My eyes were fixed on the beautiful blond girl who was reading her book. She seemed to be lost in her own world, and I wished I knew what it was like to be there.

Martin followed my gaze. “She’s out of your league.”

“You’re wrong.” I sounded more sure than I felt.

She was wearing a fashionable jacket, black leather and tailored to accentuate her small waist, which made me think she was a classy girl. She was sitting behind the counter, so I couldn’t see what shoes or pants she was wearing.

“Prove it,” Josh said.

“alright,” I said.

I silently admitted to myself that I was nervous. I was not bad with girls, not at all, but this girl was different—she was really, really beautiful. I hoped Martin was wrong and that she was not out of my league.

I left my friends in the hall and entered the DVD shop. I had no idea how to approach her and found myself heading toward the DVDs instead.

The bell rang when I entered, and the beautiful blond girl looked up from the book she was reading.

Charlotte

A cute boy had entered the shop. He had fine features and a strong jaw which matched his sharp cheekbones. He did not have a beard, and I assumed he was still in school.

He had thick, curly hair that twirled at his nape. He was at least one and a half heads taller than me, and wearing comfortable pants and a T-shirt.

The boy did not look at me at all. Instead, he went to the movies and read their titles. He looked up once and gave me a half-smile before diverting his attention back to the DVDs.

My heart beat a little faster as I realized that my grandmother had seen this boy in my teacup. I could not resist the urge to talk to him—but what would I say?

I worked here and often spoke to customers. It wasn’t that hard. ~It wasn’t.~

I got up from my seat and approached him, but my legs were slightly wobbly. I had never been courageous or anything like the heroines in my books.

“Hello,” I said, and I met his chocolate-brown gaze. “I’m Charlotte. I work here. Is there anything I can help you with?” I blurted. I had spoken so fast . . . Had he understood all of that?

“Hello, Charlotte,” he said, to my relief. “I’m looking for a good movie to watch. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Absolutely.” I instinctively reached for a movie on the shelf and handed it to him. “This is one of my favorites.”

The boy frowned. “~The Notebook~?”

I blushed as I realized I had given him my favorite love story. Of course, he was not interested in romance. I should have given him an action movie or a thriller.

“I’m sorry.” I reached for the movie, but before I could take it, he pulled it out of reach.

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ll watch it.”

“Okay,” I said lamely, and headed back toward the counter before I could make any more stupid suggestions. He followed me, but did not speak, and I wondered if I made him feel awkward.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I refused to meet his gaze.

“That will be all,” he said, and paid for the movie. “Thank you.”

I watched as he left, and he did not look back. I admitted to myself that I had ruined the moment.

I watched him go to his friends in the hall where they were standing across the DVD shop. They laughed at him.

Dimitri

“Did you strike out?” Josh asked me.

“No,” I said. “But you two are watching ~The Notebook~ tonight.”

“No way,” Martin objected. “Only girls like those soppy movies.”

“If you want a girl to like you, you have to take interest in the things she is passionate about,” I said. I’ll admit it did not sound like my kind of movie, but if it would impress Charlotte, I’d watch it.

I felt stupid for not asking her number or giving her my name. I had gone in there, only to freeze. How could I turn the situation around?

“Whatever,” Josh said. “Why don’t we go buy ice cream?”

Charlotte

I could not hear what they were saying. I watched as they walked away without looking in my direction again. My heart sank, and I did not pick up my book again. For a while I just sat there and stared at nothing.

When the bell rang again, I looked toward the door. To my surprise, the boy with the curly hair had returned. In his hand was a milk chocolate bar and a notebook.

“Hello again,” I said as he approached me. “What’s all this?”

“I think you are absolutely stunning,” he said.

Had I heard that right? I managed to say, “Thank you.”

“I hope I will see you again.” He handed me the chocolate and the notebook. My hand brushed against his bigger, warmer, and stronger one, which left me feeling tingly and my soul electrified.

With that said, he winked at me and left. The notebook was beautiful—green with intertwined silver patterns on its cover. I opened it and saw that, on the first page, he had written his phone number and name—Dimitri.

Dimitri

The initial plan had been for Josh and me to sleep over at Martin’s house. We liked his house best because it had a big pool and his mom always made us delicious food.

Martin’s parents were not strict, and they allowed us to eat in front of the television instead of at the table. We made small talk, and Martin’s dad told the occasional joke.

They ate with us, but they’d excuse themselves after dinner and give us our privacy.

I finished my dinner and took my plate to the sink. When I returned, Martin’s mother asked the question that made everyone go quiet: “Dimitri, how is your brother doing?”

I tensed and tried to stop my face from twisting. I hated talking about my eight-year-old brother, Ethan.

Three months ago Ethan had started complaining about back and leg pain. Our mother, Dina, had told him it was growing pains. After the first month, things got worse.

He complained that his hips and skull were hurting. He lost his appetite and started losing weight—fast. He was constantly thirsty and fatigued.

I ended up taking him to the hospital where he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. It is a form of cancer that is treatable but not curable.

A blood test showed that his kidneys were starting to fail. This meant that they were losing the ability to get rid of excess salt and body waste products. As a result, Ethan became weak.

He had to drop out of school and now stayed at home.

“As good as he can be,” I said truthfully.

“What does he do at home all day? Doesn’t he get bored?” Martin’s mother asked.

“He does not have a lot of energy,” I told her. It was so weird to see him so lifeless when he used to run around and laugh all the time. “He lies around most of the time.”

“We are so sorry,” Martin’s dad said. “If there is anything we can do to help, just let us know.”

“Thank you,” I said as politely as possible.

There was nothing they could do to help. Not even the doctors could help. My brother was going to die. The chemotherapy was only delaying his death.

At that moment, my phone rang. “Hello, Ethan.”

“They are fighting again,” Ethan said in a small voice.

In the back I could hear raised voices, and I knew they belonged to my mother and stepfather. I could not make out what they were fighting about.

I assumed it was money or George was accusing Dina of cheating on him. I would not be surprised if my mother was having an affair. She was always going out and coming home intoxicated.

My father’s death had crippled her, but I felt she had the responsibility to stay strong for us. She was failing her marriage and her sons.

Dina had quit her job and had told everyone that she had done so in order to stay at home and take care of Ethan.

Yet, I was the only one taking care of him. Dina spent most of her time away from home, telling her friends how much she loved her children.

“Do you need me to come home?” I asked.

“But you are visiting your friends.” Ethan sounded sad. I knew him well enough to know when he needed me. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“Spending time with you could never ruin my night,” I said.

When we were younger, I did not play with him enough and often got irritated when he did not leave me alone. When he got sick, he stopped nagging me for attention all the time, and I began to miss it.

It was unbearable to think that one of these days I would not be nagged to play at all.

“I will be there shortly.”

“Thanks, Dimitri,” Ethan said.

I hung up the phone and looked around the room. Four understanding faces looked at me with sympathy. I did not need to explain anything to my friends. No one objected to me leaving as they would have six months ago.

I thanked them for the food and their hospitality. I did not apologize for leaving early. Although it would have been nice to stay there for the night, I’d rather be with my brother.

“Drive safe,” Josh said. “There are a lot of idiots on the road at this time of night.”

I drove home and parked my car in the garage. We lived in Canal Winchester in my stepfather’s house. My stepfather, George Coleman, was a successful businessman. He had married Dina three years ago.

Everyone liked him— he was friendly, rich, funny, and intelligent. I hardly ever encountered any problems with him. He was not my father, and he never tried to be— for that I was thankful.

I missed my father, who had died six years ago from multiple myeloma— the same cancer that my brother now suffers from. Ethan had been two years old at the time, and could not remember much of his dad— Stewart Collins.

From what I could remember, my father had been the strong one in the relationship. He had been a leader and a role model.

When Dina met George, I hoped that he would help her back onto the right path. He was a loving and caring man.

For the first year of their marriage, everything had gone well. I liked the big house we moved to. I liked that my room was bigger than the previous one, and that George put in effort.

Ethan was also happy because my room door’s lock was broken, which meant he could annoy me any time he wanted. After living there for three years, I never fixed the lock.

We were happy, but then the fighting started. Ethan and I were never part of their fights. We were mostly witnesses. It often felt like I was living in a cinema, re-watching the same dramatic movie over and over again.

I could not blame George for getting angry, because Dina did unacceptable things. She often neglected her family and always thought about herself first.

Tonight, I could hear them fighting in their bedroom when I entered the house. Ethan sat on the couch, waiting for me. He smiled wide at the sight of me and reached out to me.

I walked over to him, bent down, and hugged him gently. He was skin and bones, and I thought I might snap him like a twig if I hugged too hard.

I missed the days when I came home and my brother would run to me and try to tackle me to the ground.

“What are we doing tonight?” I asked, holding the DVD by my side.

“We can watch a movie,” Ethan suggested.

I switched on the television so that it would drown out Dina and George’s screaming. “That is a great idea. I brought this one home.”

I handed ~The Notebook~ to my brother, and watched him pull a face. “This looks boring!”

I rolled my eyes. I would watch it after he fell asleep, then. I should have known my brother was too young to appreciate such a movie.

“I’ll let you choose then,” I said. I was fully aware that my brother was going to choose a cartoon that we had already watched a million times. “But first I am going to make some popcorn.”

It was a desperate attempt to get Ethan to eat something. He weighed half of what he was supposed to, and it slowly cracked my heart.

“alright,” Ethan said while he flipped through the channels.

I went to the kitchen, and minutes later returned with a big bowl of popcorn. “Bon appétit.”

Dina was from France, and she had moved to the United States of America for work. She had met my father in the state of Ohio, where they had fallen in love and married.

Yet neither Ethan nor I could speak fluent French. We knew only some phrases and words.

Ethan ate one piece of popcorn, but he did not seem to enjoy it. He chewed it slowly and did not reach for a second piece. He found the cartoon he wanted to watch and leaned back against the pillow.

“What did you do today?” I asked.

“Not much,” he said with his eyes fixed on the television.

“Did you eat dinner?” I asked.

“No.” He sighed.

“Why not?” I tried to hide the instant anger from my voice. I did not want to upset him in any way. Besides, my anger was not directed at him. “Didn’t Mom make you something to eat?”

“She was not home today.”

This came as no surprise. I shouldn’t be angry, but I couldn't help it. My anger boiled like water, and I wondered where Dina had gone. To friends? To the mall? To get her hair done?

What could possibly be more important than taking care of her son?

“Don’t be angry with her,” Ethan hated the tense atmosphere in this house and would do anything to keep the peace.

“Okay,” I said tightly, “but then you have to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” Ethan said.

“How do you want to grow up to be big and strong if you don’t eat?” I said, and immediately bit my tongue. My brother was not going to grow up.

Ethan smiled because he was a strong child. He rarely cried, and he hardly ever complained. He seldom pitied himself despite his dire situation. “Fine.” He stuffed a single piece of popcorn into his mouth.

I got up and made him a toasted cheese sandwich. When I returned to the couch, Ethan had fallen asleep. I had hoped he would at least eat a tiny piece. I went to Ethan’s room that was to the left of the staircase.

This room had been a study when Ethan slept upstairs in the room next to mine. We had moved his room down here so that he would not have to climb the stairs.

I switched on the bed light and placed the sandwich on the bedside table. I hoped my brother would eat it sometime during the night as a midnight snack.

I closed the blue, star-covered curtains and returned to the couch. I picked up my brother as easily as I’d lift a small dog, and carried him to bed.

When I put him down, his eyes fluttered open, and I wondered if I had been too rough.

“Dimitri . . . ”

“Yes?”

“I struggle to climb the stairs.”

“You don’t have to climb them.”

“But what if I need you?”

“I can sleep on the couch.” I didn’t know what he’d need me for, but I swore I’d be there when he did. “Then you won’t have to walk far.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, and closed his eyes.

I pulled the sheets over him and closed the door halfway. I inserted ~The Notebook~ into the DVD player, then made my way to the couch. I kicked off my shoes and put them on the pillows.

I lay down and then tossed and turned. The couch was beautiful, but hard, and no matter how I lay, I couldn’t get comfortable. My bed was big, warm, and I always slept well in it, but I did not go upstairs. I stayed put.

There was a stinging pain in my chest as I listened to the grandfather clock tick. One day it would just stop, like my brother’s breathing would stop. The closer my little brother got to death, the more my heart broke.