Charlie was right; I haven't underdressed. The bar is casual and relaxed, albeit busy. The crowd appears to be comprised primarily of thirty-somethings when we arrive. We start out at a table, listening to a local band - a folky sounding group that has a small set in the venue. Then, Charlie and Ben decide to play pool for a bit, and Allie and I move to stools near the table so that we can spectate. I've been drinking, but I haven't had enough to make me more than tipsy.

A little after twelve, I notice that there has been a clear shift in the crowd, and the bar is now packed with college-aged kids. Luckily, before the tables fill, we reclaim one.

I haven't been scanning for any of my acquaintances, so I am genuinely surprised when I hear Andy enthusiastically call my name. I turn in my chair just as she approaches me from behind and wraps her arms around my neck clumsily, squealing.

"I can't believe you're here!"

As she releases me, she steps forward to stand beside my chair, leaning onto the table.

"How has it been, having a room to yourself?" I ask in a friendly tone. I look around, wondering whom she's come with and if she's lost them.

"Lonely, but I find company," she giggles.

I laugh with her, but under the table, just inches in front of me, my foot finds Charlie's leg and I nudge his calf with the toe of my boot. Silently, I'm thanking him, for saving me many nights waiting in the common area of my dorm for Andy's "company" to leave.

"Hi, Charlie," She grins at him, finally acknowledging the others.

He says hello quietly and nods at her with a smile that doesn't hide his amusement.

I introduce Andy to Allie and Ben, and offer that she's welcome to pull up a chair.

"I'm alright, I need to find my friend. I went to the bathroom and completely lost him."

She looks down, adjusting her tight, plum colored dress and pushing up her boobs. I hope that she has a ride home, because the lightweight, strapless dress and the deep v of the neckline offers little protection against the cold night air. Not to mention, she's too drunk to be walking alone.

"Oh, I just remembered," she notes excitedly, looking back at me with her brows raised, "This guy - we have mutual friends - he was looking for you! He told me to let him know if I see or talk to you tonight, and here you are! I need to text him. His name is J- something with a J..." she ponders.

"Justin?" I ask, remembering that he'd recognized her when we were out together.

"Yeah, I think that's it! I'll let him know you're here. Well, bye, everyone! Nice to meet you two," She waves her hand towards Ben and Allie, "And don't be a stranger, Stella! I know he's cuter than me, but I bet I'm more fun," she grins between Charlie and I before stumbling away from the table.

"I can't really see you living with her," Ben chuckles after Andy is far from us, Charlie joins in agreeing.

"We only spent a couple of nights together. She is sweet though, and entertaining."

Without telling the others, I pull out my phone to text Andy, letting her know that, if she can't find her friend, Charlie and I will drive her home.

When I look up from my phone, I see Charlie shift in his seat and wince slightly. Allie and Ben are in their own conversation, so they don't notice when I ask if he's alright.

"I'm fine, every once and a while I feel a sharp pain, but I think that's normal."

I raise my eyebrows a bit at his choice of the word "normal."

"You should have taken your pills."

Charlie just shakes his head at me as Ben extends his conversation to us.

"What do you guys think of this house?" he asks, handing me his phone.

As I take it into my hands, observing the photo on the screen, he speaks to Charlie, "Someone has decided to build this monstrosity right across from my parents in North Carolina. They are beyond pissed - thinking of moving, actually. They just texted, apparently they're breaking ground tomorrow," Ben chuckles as he tells the shortened story, more amused than annoyed for his family.

"So this is just a photo of the plans?" I ask, passing the phone across the table to Charlie.

Ben nods, "Just under twenty-thousand square feet, and that's not even including the six car garage."

"I feel terrible for his parents," Allie intervenes, "He thinks it's funny, but it really is too bad. They've lived there since Ben was a little boy, in a tastefully sized house. I'm just worried, like they are, about how ostentatious the exterior will be."

"Who's the architect?" Charlie asks suddenly. I look from Allie, towards him. He is sliding his thumb and forefinger along each side of his chin - halfway up his jawline, and then back down, - while scrutinizing the image on the screen.

"I forget his name," Ben frowns, "I know he has a huge firm in Atlanta, and they've recently expanded to the coasts. Something West? Wester?"

"Westin," Charlie states, "Is it Chris Westin?"

"That's it," Ben nods, bringing his glass to his lips.

"You know his work?" Allie asks, thankfully. I am curious, of course, but I don't want Charlie to think that I'm leading in to anything.

"Very well," Charlie almost smirks, bringing his hand from his chin back to the table and leaning towards Ben, offering him his phone.

"The house won't be ostentatious," Charlie states politely, but certainly.

"Has he built something for your family? You said you're from Georgia, right?"

"I grew up there, yes. He's built - well, he's built houses for himself, so yes, I suppose he has. He's my uncle by marriage."

My mouth falls open slightly, but I try to cover my surprise by reaching for my drink in haste. Charlie reaches for his glass as well, much more slowly than I.

"You're not serious," Allie tilts her head, surprised, "I'm sorry about what I said, then! I've never actually seen anything he's built. I was speaking in ignorance."

Charlie shakes his head as he takes a long drink, and dismisses her apology upon pulling the glass from his lips, "Don't worry about it. Those plans look scary, but see -"

Charlie begins to explain the plans more thoroughly to Allie and Ben, assuring them that the house's size will be masked by its spread, explaining that it will not be a full two stories, and that his uncle usually works with landscapers to ensure that his houses sit fittingly among their plots.

I suppose I'd assumed his interest in architecture came from his proficiency in physics. He surprises me again and again, which I should celebrate, but I do find myself wishing that he would more freely share his world with me.

I think about our walk along the stream, when he'd told me about his parents and of how he'd come to live with his aunt and uncle - the details that he claims no one else knows. What's changed, or rather, what is different, about this part of him, that makes it more difficult for him to share?

"Well I'll let them know that I've gotten a good word on the architect," Ben says to Charlie.

"They'll be so relieved," Allie adds. "Is that something that you're interested in, then?" she asks him, "Building houses, I mean. You seem to know a lot about it."

"He does a lot more than build houses, babe," Ben interrupts. Allie just rolls her eyes and turns back to Charlie, clearly not one to enjoy being corrected.

"I used to be, but..."

Just after he pauses, Charlie is interrupted by an acquaintance of Allie approaching the table. They talk for only a minute, but the conversation about architecture is forgotten.

"Are you about ready to go?" Ben asks Allie, "I have to be on the road in like, eight hours."

"Yeah, we can go," Allie says decidedly, "Do you guys mind? Thank you so much for coming out with us,"

"Yeah, go ahead," I say, as Allie stands from her tall chair and hugs Charlie's neck, and Ben reaches for me. Allie comes to me next, saying that she had a great time with us, and Charlie says the same to Ben.

"Tell your uncle to stop by the house across the street for a drink sometime! I'll be home for a month."

"Okay," Charlie laughs, taking his seat again.

Charlie offers that we can stay while I finish my drink.

Two things play on my mind as I take a sip of my fruity vodka mix. One: Charlie flinched as he sat down after saying goodbye to our friends. Second: I have just discovered that Charlie's uncle is a talented, very well esteemed architect. I know that both topics are ones that he would rather avoid, so I decide to touch on only one lightly.

"That's really cool that your uncle is such a well known builder," I say, since I've technically already given my two-sense on his need for his pain medication tonight.

"Yeah, he's a cool guy. I'll take you to see some of his structures soon."

"In Atlanta?" I ask curiously, since we haven't made plans to visit there.

"No, in New York," Charlie says nonchalantly.

"He's built structures in the city?"

"Mm hmm," Charlie nods.

"Wow. Have you ever thought about..." I stop myself from continuing in my moment of enthusiasm.

"It's alright, Stella," he smiles, "I used to want to work with him. I would be too much of a risk though."

"Hey guys!"

A familiar, very southern accent suddenly chimes closely. Despite the crowd, I recognize the voice and realize that the greeting is directed towards us. Charlie continues to look at me, but I turn my head and smile at Bridget, Charlie's friend from the supermarket, and her friend, who doesn't try to hide her glare.

"How are you guys?" Bridget hugs me first, and then goes to Charlie. He extends only one arm awkwardly, but tries to be polite.

"We're great," I say, "Do you come here often? I've never been, but I like it. Our friends invited us, but they just left. You two are welcome to sit down..." I don't exactly know why I'm being so long-winded. Perhaps it is because of the glaring girl with long, ink black hair standing just to my right.

"We're leaving soon as well," Charlie corrects me.

The girl suddenly directs her glare from me to Charlie, and her expression softens.

"This is Meg," Bridget introduces the girl only to me.

"Hi, Meg," I smile, "I'm Stella."

"I know who you are," Meg's eyes narrow once again, and she whips her head towards Charlie.

"Is this what you look for in a regular fuck? Because we've all spent months trying to figure it out."

"Meg, don't!" Bridget cries. She takes her friend by the shoulders and tries to turn her away. "I'm so sorry," she says, looking wide-eyed between Charlie and me, "I really didn't mean for-"

"How long have you known him?" Meg fights out of Bridgett's grasp and hastily turns back towards me.

"She doesn't concern you. You need to leave, now," Charlie says firmly. I haven't actually looked at him - I'm almost afraid of what Meg will do if I even blink, - but his voice doesn't leave his level of irritation and anger to my imagination.

"Two, three months?" she continues, "He's a regular here, you know. Well, he used to be. He was a regular at a lot of places. And I would bet that I could give you a list of about twenty or thirty reasons why you shouldn't want anything to do with him. Bridget here can be number one. I'm number two. You see those girls over there? They're our friends, too. They can be numbers three, four and five."

"Stop," Charlie's voice is quieter, more uncertain now.

"It's okay, Charlie," I say calmly, still looking at Meg, "I don't choose my company based on their sexual history. Apparently you don't, either; or maybe I'm wrong, and sharing clothing with your friends just isn't enough for you. Regardless, you're not accomplishing much by exposing yourself or your friends to me."

Bridget is close to tears now, as she tugs harder at the girl's shoulders, "I'm so sorry. I promise, I didn't think that she would -"

"It's not your fault," I assure her. Honestly, I'm not even very angry at Meg, and a part of me hopes that Charlie didn't make her feel used, and that she doesn't think I've judged her.

Her glare disappears, and she finally allows Bridget to drag her away from the table.

Before I can even refocus on Charlie, I think that I see a familiar figure at the other end of the bar. My heart rate increases as I wrap my fingers around my glass and move them against the coldness passively.

I couldn't have just seen him.

"Baby? I'm so, so sorry."

Charlie reaches for my hand, removing it from my glass. With a sharp intake of breath, I bring my attention to him, squeezing his hand in mine.

"It's really okay," I smile, "I've told you before, I wouldn't hold something like that against you."

My eyes involuntarily wonder back to their previous point of interest, and I search for the person whom I fear I've just seen.

"You're right to, though. I promise, she was exaggerating things, but still, I would never think of acting like I used to again. I'm sorry that you have to deal with... problems from my past. What are you looking at?"

Charlie turns his head, his hand still in mine, just as my phone buzzes on the table. Andy has finally replied to my earlier text. I release Charlie's hand so that I can read it.

Hi babe! I have a ride home! I texted that guy who knows you too. He is excited to see you.. says you haven't hung out in ages. Hopefully Charlie isn't the jealous type ;)

I realize that that, in Andy's tipsy state, she'd made an error. "Justin" was not the name she'd been looking for, and now, it is no longer a problem from Charlie's past that plagues us.