I feel myself being pulled out of sleep by a soft, but distracting noise that sounds like shuffling across the wood floor. Cooper must have left his bed. The room is still dark, and I can tell that it’s not morning yet; I’m not near Charlie, either. I try scooting closer to him, my eyes still closed, and I quickly realize that he isn’t there.

“Are you sure you don’t need me? You know I can be there so fast. I don’t mind,” I hear Charlie’s whispers.

I open my eyes and sit up in bed, squinting towards the light that is coming from underneath the bathroom door.

“Get out of there until the cops show, please,” Charlie’s voice is still low, but he says this more loudly than before.

“They are? Go then. Call me as soon as anything is decided. You know you can come here, too, if you want to,”

I collect that he must be talking to Mark. I hear him say goodbye and the bathroom door opens as the light turns off.

Charlie looks down at the ground as he starts toward the bed again, running his hands through the front of his hair and then attempting to push it back in front. He doesn’t have much luck, since it’s extra messy from sleep.

“Charlie?” I ask, biting my lip and smiling. I can tell that his eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness, and he’s fumbling a bit, trying to concentrate on his feet and where he is in the room.

“Hey, babe – OW!”

I start to laugh but cover my mouth with both hands and he bends down towards his foot, which has just collided with a bedpost, I assume.

“Are you okay? Here, just climb in on my side,” I crawl to the foot of the bed and guide him to sit on the edge. He stares down at his foot.

“That hurt,” he chuckles.

I just look sympathetically at him and kiss his cheek before scooting back to my pillow. Charlie follows and lies beside me. He puts his arm around me and I lean back into his shoulder, playing with the buttons on his denim shirt that I still wear.

“They broke into Mark’s house. Well, they tried, at least. Do you think I should wake Casey, or wait until morning?”

“Is he in any danger? Did they take anything?” I ask, wondering what time it even is.

“No, apparently a neighbor heard someone break a window, and he was quick enough to run outside that the men jumped back into their car and sped off. Mark wasn’t home, but his neighbor called him and the cops. Police can get involved, now that they’ve proved to be a threat.”

“Are you relieved about that at least?” I ask.

“Yes. Especially since Mason and Casey will be gone for a few days. Hopefully they can catch these guys before they’re back home. I tried to convince Mark to go with his family, but he won’t. He says Casey is angry with him and he doesn’t want to ruin her trip. He’s a selfish bastard though, he knows that she wants him with her, more than anything.”

“Do you think she would want to be woken up?”

He thinks for a while.

“Mark says let her sleep. If I wait until in the morning, then she’ll be certain that everything is okay. Whereas, if I tell her now, she will feel like she has to go to him, to try to help what can’t be helped. I think I should wait.”

I turn my head up to look at him, and he is already looking down at me, his eyes meet mine immediately.

I nod, “I think you’re right.”

“Come on, let’s try to get at least a little more sleep,” He pulls me down with him and lets my head find his chest. Then, he begins to play with my long curls, and it makes me immediately sleepy.

“You’ll still go to your aunt and uncle’s, right? This won’t keep you from your plans.”

“Right,” He answers, “I’m still going to see them.”

“Okay,” I say, and I touch my lips to the warm skin of his bare chest, “I love you.”

In the actual morning, I wake at the same time as Charlie. Both of us have set an early alarm, so that we can get ready before Mason and Casey need to use the shower and restroom.

We have to rush a bit. Our shower is quick albeit enjoyable. I only blow out my hair for five minutes before I give up, tying a scarf in it and deciding to let time and air do the rest. I’m impatient this morning because I’m excited to be home, but also because I want to spend any time that I can with Charlie, and not holding a blow dryer to my head.

I pack all of my things and Charlie and I go to the kitchen.

“When you come back from break, you know you can leave more of your things here. You can always throw your laundry in with mine, too.”

“Okay,” I say, “But you aren’t doing my laundry.”

He just smiles in response.

I stop off at the back door to let Cooper out, trying to be as quiet as possible, since Casey and Mason are still asleep on the couch.

When I reach the kitchen, Charlie tells me that Mason isn’t going to school, since they’re traveling to Casey’s parents’ house today, so they may sleep a while longer.

We make eggs, toast and tea, and we eat together quietly at the bar. Charlie has pulled his stool very close to mine, of course, and during breakfast he plays with the hem of my long shirt, and I with the rings on his fingers.

“You’re wearing your necklace,” He smiles, his pretty blue eyes still looking a bit puffy from sleepiness.

“Of course I am. I love it.”

It’s twenty ‘til nine and Casey and Mason still haven’t woken up. I tell Charlie to tell them goodbye for me, to have a safe trip, and that I hope to see them soon. He grabs my bags and tells me that he’ll carry them to my car, leaving through the garage door. I kneel down to say goodbye to Cooper, who is back inside now, lying at the foot of my barstool. Then, I follow Charlie out to my car.

He sighs as I approach him, closing the trunk and meeting me at the driver’s side.

“I won’t be in to see you today, since I’ll have to drive Casey to her car and then hit the road.”

I shake my head, “It’s alright. Just drive safely, okay?”

I bite my lip and move my hands into the front pocket of his black hoodie. He’s put his hood up in the cold, morning air, and he looks hot – in a bad, ornery sort of way. But when he grins at me, his smile pulled slightly more to one side, and his blue eyes sparkly, he looks boyish and sweet again.

“I’ll be careful. You drive safe too, baby. Call me when you make it home, please?”

“I will,” I say, and he leans down to kiss me, stuffing his hands in his own pockets so that they can find mine.

When our lips break away from one another, he leans his forehead on mine, “I love you, Stella.”

“I love you.”

He waits for a moment before pulling away, and then opens my car door. I thank him as I climb in. He says that he loves me one more time before closing it. He watches me from his driveway as I leave, and I realize that leaving here, leaving him, it feels like I’m leaving home again.

I think that I hear “Wildflowers,” by Tom Petty playing through my stereo, but I doubt that it’s on the radio, I don’t have music playing from my phone, and the volume is down very low. As I adjust the volume and look to the display, I realize that Charlie has made a mix for my car ride. He must have slipped it in while I said goodbye to Cooper. Every song thereafter is a good as the one before it. Best of all, every one reminds me of him.

When I park my car near the café, I eject the disk, only to see if he’s labeled it. Written on the silver CD in black marker is the message, “Favorites for Baby – Love, Charlie”

I smile and slip it back into my stereo before turning off my car and texting Charlie to thank him.

“Hello, Stella Louise. How was your weekend?” Mr. Miller greets me with his bright, warm smile. He is wearing his understated reading glasses today, and they make him look like a happy-grandpa type. It makes me even more excited to see my family.

“Hey, girl!” Allie chimes, emerging from the kitchen.

“Hi,” I greet both at the same time, “My weekend was good, thank you. Are you both excited for Thanksgiving? I can’t wait to go home.”

Allie agrees and Mr. Miller begins to tell us about all of the guests that he and his wife have coming – nearly forty, he says.

“I just hope that the weather holds out so that I don’t feel too guilty about seating my least favorites outside,” He remarks, with a laugh. I have no doubt that he’s joking though; the Millers are the perfect hosts.

Allie shares her plans then, seeming excited, but less than I would have imagined.

After Mr. Miller and I finish helping two customers, she elaborates. She is wiping down the counter, and doesn’t make eye contact with either of us.

“My boyfriend has been acting so strange lately. I’m worried that he’s waiting for me to come home so that we can talk about breaking up. I feel like things have been perfect – we’ve been talking about what we’ll do after I graduate. I don’t know, maybe it’s freaking him out, and he’s just decided that he wants something else.”

Mr. Miller offers advice before I can, “I’m sure he’s scared out of his mind. I know I was, at that age. Women don’t realize it, but you’re intimidating to us men. Whether you’re faking it or not, you always seem to know what you want – we don’t. It’s easy for us to feel like we can’t keep up. I don’t think that means he’s over it, though. He may decide to deal with it in a completely different way. People will surprise you, Miss Allie,” Mr. Miller winks at Allie and walks away, into the kitchen with Jimmy.

I don’t feel the need to add anything. Mr. Miller is a very smart man.

Allie is leaning against the back counter now, her small arms crossed at her waist. She finally looks at me, with humor in her eyes, “I just got boy advice from my fifty-six year old boss,” and we both laugh together.

Soon, Allie is leaving for the day. She makes me promise that I will go to lunch with her when we’re both back in town, since she only has a few weeks left in Clemson.

My shift finishes quickly, and I wish Mr. Miller and Jimmy a happy Thanksgiving.

As I merge onto the highway, finally headed home, “Can’t Help Falling in Love” starts to sound through my stereo, and I’m taken back to the first night that I spent at Charlie’s: watching him walk slowly back to the couch where I sat after changing the track on the album; the way that he looked at the ground, watching his long, gradual strides and running his hand through his perfect hair. He was the kind of person who had nothing to be embarrassed about, but that didn’t keep him from feeling it sometimes.

He was shy in the beginning, underneath his cool confidence – like anything he said or did might send me away. Then, quickly but cautiously, he started to trust me. He realized, like I did, that we are safe with one another.

He said it perfectly that night by the ocean, “We just help each other in different ways. I love you, Stella – for all of the ways that you help me.”

We help each other in ways that no one else can – and who knows why – but I’m glad that I have him.

Two hours later, after a long, excited greeting from my parents, I sit down with them at our kitchen bar and we eat our favorite chips and dip that my mom has made. Of course, I’m only able to take one bite before she starts to pester me, innocently of course, with questions about Charlie.

“You said he was twenty, right? Do you feel like he’s much older than you? You act old for your age, I suppose. What does he like to do besides box?”

My father and I sit on barstools, while my mother stands at the counter in front of us, pouring herself a soda.

She looks just the same, they both do. My mom’s straight, light blonde hair hangs just past her shoulders. Her happy blue eyes are curious as ever. She is shorter than me, and it adds to her childlike demeanor, and simultaneously to my tolerance for her inquisitiveness. My dad’s salt and pepper hair is a bit longer than I remember it being when I left. His large, gray eyes look content and relaxed. He claims to have gained weight since I left, but I don’t really see it.

“Does anyone want anything to drink?” My mother asks, before I can finish chewing my chip and answer her first string of questions. My father and I both shake our heads, and he grabs another chip.

“Sometimes he seems much older. He is very mature. Every once and a while, he’ll act embarrassed or grin really big and I remember how young he is, though,” I smile, thinking about his, and take a bite of the chip I’m holding.

“And his hobbies? He travels a lot – does he enjoy it? Does he always want to live in Clemson?”

“He likes traveling, yes. He likes to try new things, and go new places. I don’t think he’s someone who has to stick to a routine, which I like. He is oddly good at physics, and you can tell he’s smart. Apparently his aunt and uncle are both teachers – they raised him. He has a really extensive book collection, but I haven’t asked him much about it. He loves music – old and new,”

I look towards my dad who has been quietly munching on chips and dip, and looks to be falling asleep, “Dad, he has a bunch of Elvis records. He burned me a CD, too, for the ride home. You would like it.”

“Hmm,” he says, turning his attention back to me, “You’ll have to play it for me.”

My dad is, as usual, calmly interested.

“You didn’t tell me where he wants to live!” My mom chimes again. She stares at me with her wide eyes, much like a wondering child would.

“Mom, he’s twenty. He doesn’t know.”

“Well, have you asked?”

“No – I –“

“You should ask, Stella. It’s okay to ask questions, you know. He might want to talk to someone about it.”

I roll my eyes playfully at her and shake my head.

“I have to be careful about asking him things like that – about the future, I mean. I’m afraid that he will think I’m being condescending about the fact that he isn’t in school,” I start to worry again about last night. I know that he wasn’t upset with me after. I’m more afraid that he gets upset with himself – like he owes it to other people to do what they think he should.

My mom nods, understandingly.

“Neither of you should have to know yet where you’ll be or what you’ll be doing,” my dad notes, “You two like each other, and plans change, anyhow. Those are really the only two things you can count on, Stella Lou – change, and the people you love,” he smiles then, lowering his head a bit, a habit that I assume he’s carried from when I was a child, and he would look at me from under his readers, “You don’t have to love him yet, though,” and then he chuckles a bit.

I do, though.

We eventually move on from the subject of Charlie. We talk about my classes, my new job with Dr. Keller, and about my job at Lighthouse.

After our snack, my dad helps me carry my luggage upstairs into my room, which I haven’t been in for basically three months.

I sigh when I reach the top of the stairs. It’s a strange sort of relief, to be back in my room.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, setting down my suitcase and one of my bags – I packed a lot, deciding to do laundry and cycle out clothes while I’m home.

“I’m good for now, thank you.”

“Well, you probably want some time to just hang out up here and rest from your trip. I’m going to go downstairs and help your mom with dinner soon. Let us know if you need anything. I’m so glad you’re home.”

He kisses my forehead before walking back downstairs, leaving me alone to unpack and relax. Before I begin, I continue to take in the sight of my bedroom.

Our house is one and a half stories, my bedroom being the only room upstairs. It is decently sized. I imagined that it would make living in a tiny dorm room much more difficult, so it’s probably good that I live alone.

The wall opposite the staircase and entry is painted dark purple, while the rest are white. My bed sets against the deep colored wall, its canopy hung with white tulle and twinkle lights. There is a comfy chair in the corner nearest me where I liked to read. There are two large bookshelves that hold my favorite books and other important things. I have a desk that I rarely ever used, since I mostly did my homework on my bed. My walls are scattered with black and white photos and magazine cutouts. It’s all the same, but very different.

I wish he were here with me.

Then, I remember that I haven’t texted him yet. I haven’t even looked at my phone since I’ve been home, actually. I go to take it out of my purse and walk to my bed. I have a missed call from him already, so I call back.

“Hello,” he answers after only one ring, “Did you make it home safe?”

“I did,” I assure him, “I got distracted by snacks and my parents. Where are you?”

“I’m about an hour away from Savannah. I was able to leave Clemson earlier than I expected, so I’ll be there soon.”

“You shouldn’t be on the phone, then,” I tell him, “It’s dangerous.”

But I do love the sound of his voice on the phone. That may be the one advantage to having not brought him here with me – I’ll get to hear his phone voice for longer periods of time.

He laughs in response to my caution, “Okay, baby. Just call me tonight, okay? I love you,”

“I love you.”

Wednesday morning, my parents and I drive around town and visit family, even though we’ll be seeing everyone for Thanksgiving. Then, we visit some of my favorite places in town. I’m happy to see that most everything hasn’t changed much. My parents and I eat lunch at my favorite café. The café is small and locally owned. Its atmosphere is similar to a cool, rustic coffee shop. When I first moved to Clemson, Lighthouse reminded me of this particular café, and thus of home. I was feeling homesick the very first time that I ate there, and I applied right away. My parents notice my necklace while we’re at lunch, and they both think it’s cute that Charlie’s given me his ring on a chain. My mom is more excited than my dad, of course.

Later in the evening, I meet a group of my friends for ice cream. Most of our time is spent reminiscing rather than talking about our new lives. We’d all kept in touch quite well at the beginning of the year, but spoken much less lately. Telling them that I’ve met someone would seem strange and sudden, so I decide to just keep Charlie to myself, for now.

It’s nice to see my friends again, of course, but it reminds me that, besides my family, I don’t have much to miss about this town.

I spend the latest hours of Wednesday night sitting on my front porch in a rocking chair, curled up under a wool blanket, talking to Charlie over the phone. Like the night before, we tell each other about our day, and I get to learn a bit more about his family. His family was small on his mother and aunt’s side – it’s only his grandparents and distant cousins; however, his uncle has a large family in Savannah that they spend holidays with. Sometimes, his grandparents travel to see him from Connecticut, where Charlie was born, but they haven’t made it this time.

“Do you ever think about moving further north again?” I ask Charlie, sniffling in the cool air of late November.

“I think about moving a lot of places, I guess. I’m not set on any one place though.”

“Me either,” I agree.

“Have you ever been to New York City?” Charlie asks.

“No. I’ve always wanted to, though. I hear everyone has a psychologist there, too.”

Charlie laughs, “I may be going there for a fight the week before Christmas. I want to take you.”