The Meaning of Charlie Armanio

VII

"HELLO?" HIS VOICE FLITTERS out of the speakers as soon as I place it by my ear. "Hey, Chloe."

"Hi, dad," I mutter, a bit distractedly, "I have something to tell you." I'm thinking about the panic attack and how the nurse had called Claire instead of my dad when it James carried me into the infirmary. I'm thinking of how mad he would be if he knew that I had a panic attack and didn't tell him. I'm thinking of how mad he got when he found me in the bathroom trying to cover the marks on my neck and how he had forced me to file a report. "Something happened in school today and I want to tell you as soon as I you get here. It's – wait, where are you?"

He groans loudly and I can imagine him running his fingers through his copper coloured hair. "Listen, I don't think I can come get you today. Can you catch a ride with one of your friends instead?"

"Why? Where are you?" I ask, looking around the parking lot teeming with people. I examine every car and licence plate and I feel fear and shock grip me when I know he's not around. "Are you okay?"

I hear the sound of the asphalt screeching against the road and honking and cursing. Then, I hear his heavy breathe, "yeah, sweet pea I'm fine. I'm just too far away from your – Webster in fact. I had to, uh, see someone. But, you can tell me now; if it's important I don't want to waste any time. Is it Detective Clyde? Did he find something?"

"No, dad," I eagerly brush off, hoping to put the subject off for a while since it makes me queasy. I kick a stone in front of my converse clad feet far off into the distance and say, "it'd not the case or anything like that. Something happened in school today and it's really not something to hear over the phone so," I sigh in disappointment that he's not coming to pick me up, "I'll tell you at home, I guess."

"Okay, only if you're sure. First thing when I get home then, okay?"

"Okay," I reply, and then a thought hits me, "who did you go see?"

"What?" His confused voice asks, "what are you talking about?"

I stop playing with the stone and lift my head off the ground and raise an eyebrow. "You said you went to see someone and I'm asking who that was."

"Oh that," he laughs awkwardly. I can imagine him rubbing his neck while saying this. "Oh, he was an old friend of mine in high school and he happened to want to – " he releases a shudder, " – to meet up so, yeah."

"And does he have a name?" I question, smiling a little when I hear his deep intake of breathe. I'm onto him and he knows it. "Uh, his name's Dale."

"Oh okay," I drag out while nodding, so he knows I don't believe him. "Dale."

"Yeah," he smacks his lips together, "Ryan's taking you home. I've already told him so, so don't try and convince me not to. It's not part of his job description but he's already agreed to."

Ryan is my bodyguard of sorts – he's tall and big and built like an animal. He's highly qualified and lingers around the school as a student because he's good-looking and young enough to pull of the teenage ease. He mingles and tries to stay out of vision but when something goes wrong he's quick to be there. The problem – the big hamartia in my father's safety plan – with having Ryan around is that he's a student at Webster High and he is forced to attend classes. He takes the same one's as me – only he doesn't have any free periods like I do, which is weird, so he couldn't help me out with the panic attack earlier.

"Okay, okay," I reply, waving at Ryan and heading over to his black car, "I'm heading over right now. Will he also take me to the hospital?"

"Sure, sweet pea, he'll take you anywhere but he's staying with you, okay?"