Chapter 3

As per his request, Charlie made it through the graduation exercises without being publicly acclaimed for his academic achievements. Just as he'd refused to have annual school pictures taken, he declined to be included in the class graduation picture. Crossing the stage to receive his diploma was hard enough. Nobody tried to change his mind about the photo because they'd all learned from past experiences that the effort would be fruitless. From the day he'd laid eyes on his first-grade picture, he'd flatly refused to be photographed.

After turning in his cap and gown, he headed for the car with his parents. Tracy caught up with them half way across the parking lot and grabbed his arm. "Hey, Charlie! Some of the guys are going over to the pizza joint for a little celebration. Want to come with us?"

"Uh, I've got stuff to do at home."

His mom took him by the shoulders and looked into his face, "Oh, Charlie, why don't you? It'll be fun!"

Tracy took his hand and was pulling him along. "Come on, Charlie! We'll have a ball and everyone wants you there."

"NO!" He jerked his hand from hers, feeling immediately sorry for it when he saw the look on her face. "I mean, uh, no, thank you but I appreciate your asking." He slid into the back seat of the car and closed the door, looking away from the three people standing outside.

The Werthers rode in silence on their way home. He could see his mother's anger coming to a boil. Finally, she turned and said, "You know what, Charlie? I used to get so angry with those kids who teased you because they were being such little jerks. Well, it's you who is being a jerk now and I'm so angry with you. And I'll tell you something else: I'm starting to lose patience with your 'I don't need anyone' attitude. You've had a bad break in your life but, by god, other people have had to live with a lot worse problems than you have. Don't you think it's about time you got over yourself? If people don't like looking at you they can just go fuck themselves. It's their problem, not yours and I can't see any reason why you should lose sleep over it!"

Charlie and his stepdad both looked at her with their jaws hanging open. The work 'fuck' had never issued from her mouth before as far as they were aware. They all looked at each other in shocked disbelief for several seconds before breaking up into riotous laughter.

"Mom, I didn't think you had it in you!" the boy laughed, holding his sides. His stepdad had to pull over and park, he was laughing so hard.

His mom had her hands over her face covering her blush. "Well, I'm laughing but I'm still pissed, Charlie." As the moment passed, she looked at him again, this time with tears in her eyes. "I mean it Baby! You've got to get over this! You have too much to offer the world to spend your life hiding in a closet. People like you and they want to spend time with you. Can't you see that? I can tell at a glance that Tracy just adores you."

Charlie sobered, too. "Tracy just thinks she owes me because I helped her pass her math course."

His mom shook her head and sighed, "You know, Son, for a guy with such a high IQ, you can sure be a dumb ass."

"You might be right," he said as he stepped out of the car. "You guys go on. I think I'll walk the rest of the way."

And walk, he did; aimlessly and for a long time. When he thought about it, he'd known for some time that he needed to quit letting other people be the motivating force behind his life. The problem was that he's spent nearly the whole of his sixteen years in self-protection mode, retreating into his 'safe' world and he didn't know if he'd be able to adjust to life in the open. He didn't want to go through the rest of his life with a chip on his shoulder, ready to smack down anyone who was rude enough to make of point of his ugliness. He didn't want to stoop to that level.

He eventually found himself walking along the lakeshore, miles from home and turned to head back home. He thought about famous people in history who had made it in spite of their physical handicaps. When he put his mind to it, several names and faces came to mind. There were a lot of outstanding movie stars who hadn't made their fortunes on their looks, like Steve Buscemi, for instance, or Marty Feldman. Hitler was certainly no glamor boy, but then he deserved to be ugly. And if you want to talk about someone who's hard to look at, what about Steven Hawking?

Charlie knew his mom was right. He had to get over himself and let the small-minded people be their small-minded selves. Like the poor and the ignorant, they would always be with us. But he was going to have to make the first move and that was easier said than done!

He got home too late for lunch. He nuked some popcorn and took it and a glass of iced tea to his room to check his e-mail. He spotted one from Tracy immediately and clicked on it:

Hey, butthole, I don't deserve the way you treated me. Why don't you apologize and then we can both go our separate ways with a clean conscience.

He thought about it for a long while, then sent a reply:

I apologize for being a butthole. I don't want you to go away. I like you and I want you to like me. Would you go out to dinner and a movie with me this coming Friday night? Please!

He clicked 'send' and lay on his bet to listen to music for a while. And think: 'Well, what's the worst that could happen, ' Charlie mused. 'People could stare at me when we're having dinner? Mom's right about that, though. It's their problem, not mine. I'll just keep my eyes fixed on Tracy. That should be easy enough. What else? I might lose control and touch her where she doesn't want to be touched, earning me a slap across my ugly puss. Not likely! I have a hard enough time standing next to a girl, let alone do something insane like grab hold of a boob or an ass. Oh, and Charlie, watch that smart mouth or yours. Don't be getting all defensive on the poor girl. One smartass remark could ruin the whole date. Shit! Stop dwelling on all the bad stuff! You know Murphy's Law's going to crop up at some point. Just be ready to fix the glitch when it happens. The main objective has got to be getting a shot at a second date, right? Of course, there has to be a first date first.'

Charlie knew he was working himself into a snit. He got up from the bed and went back to his computer to answer some e-mails, a little surprised to see that Tracy had already replied to his reply:

Sorry, Charlie. I'm busy Friday night but I think Saturday will work. Don't even think about trying to find a way to weasel out of this!

He smiled and wrote back:

Saturday at seven(ish). Your car or should I try to borrow Mom's?

'OK, Charlie, here's your shot, ' he thought. 'Don't fuck it up!'

As the weekend approached, Charlie Werther was a hodge-podge of conflicting emotions. Twice, Mr. Montero had to remind him to concentrate on his work because he kept getting peoples orders wrong.

At the same time he was feeling a growing anxiety about his date with Tracy, he could hardly wait for Saturday to arrive. His Mom had promised he could use her car and he'd made a reservation at the new Thai restaurant for dinner. He dressed up so rarely that he had to try on his sport coat to make sure it still fit. It did.