the other side of us | ✓

1.6 | what people say

Despite what she'd told Devin and Ash over the weekend, Charlotte was hoping to run into Mason again. It was surprising to Charlotte how much interest she was taking in the British boy, because it was so out of character for her.

Though she had made it into a joke, Devin had been right; Charlotte didn't talk to boys. She'd never had a boyfriend in the twenty-some years that she had been alive, and despite the numerous efforts of her best friends, Charlotte had never even been on a date. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in them—the girl was utterly infatuated with any movie starring the Franco brothers or Matthew McConaughey—but rather the fact that, to Charlotte, relationships had always seemed so pointless, like they were destined to end. And now, here she was, thinking about some boy she'd met twice, and not through any favorable circumstance.   

But that didn't mean she wanted to date him.

Yet, when Charlotte drove herself to class on Monday morning, she found herself looking at the faces of the people walking a bit more closely than usual.

*

To her immense disappointment, Charlotte hadn't seen Mason all day. She knew that he must go to her college—it was the only one nearby and he looked the right age. Ash and Devin had been asking questions about him all day, and Charlotte was dreading having lunch with them because she knew that the questioning would intensify. To make matters worse, Max would be there, so there would be an additional person to witness her flushed cheeks at the mention of his name.

Mason Carlyle.

The name fit him, she had to admit. It was a normal name, but something about his last name made him stand out. Most people that lived in Hollytree had common names. Charlotte could count on both hands the amount of times she'd met someone with the name Smith in this town.

"So," Ash began, before Charlotte had even sat down. The group was sitting inside today in one of the many cafeterias on campus. The wind had picked up outside and was blowing hard enough to rattle the windows of the old building.

"Don't start," Charlotte groaned. "I don't know anything about him."

"Not true," Devin smirked, joining them. "You know his name."

"And that's all I know."

"Aw," Ash said, poking Charlotte's cheek with the clean end of her soup spoon. "Does little Charlie wish she knew more?"

"No." Yes.

Charlotte swatted the spoon away and turned to glare at her blond best friend before busying herself by pulling out her water bottle. Her scone sat untouched in front of her.

"Wouldn't you want to know more?" Devin asked, sighing deeply. "He was British."

"Who was British?" Max asked, joining them with a lunch tray for both he and Ash. He greeted his girlfriend with a kiss as he settled the trays in front of them. Pasta today, Ash must've picked for them.

"This guy," Devin said, wiggling her eyebrows in Charlotte's direction. Charlotte flicked a grape at her. Devin's dark lips pulled into an "o" of surprise as the fruit bounced off her forehead.

"He's no one," Charlotte tried to explain.

Devin snorted. "Didn't look like no one. He looked like an extremely attractive guy with an accent."

"Should I be worried?" Max asked in a stage whisper. Ash grinned back.

"Definitely. We all know how much I just can't resist boys with accents." 

The group laughed. Even Charlotte remembered the faint Australian accent that Max had had when they'd met.

"So, who's the guy?" Max asked once the laughter had died down.