Charlie.
Not Chuck, never Chuck, not Chucky Not Charles in Charge either and definitely, definitely not Charlotte.
I’ve hated being Charlotte ever since I was four, yeah four when my cousins showed me what I’d never have. How he was better than me because I was just a girl. I beat him up, smacked him with my GI-JOE twelve inch action figure. (It was Snake eyes, because he always kicks ass.) I got into trouble but that day didn’t just stick with me. It was just the first crack in my wall.
The first chip off the pink paint.
Recent comments