A light shone through Charlie’s window. When she opened her eyes, she quickly squeezed them shut.
“Ugh, what time is it?” she groaned. She checked her alarm clock, which read 4:12. “God,” she whispered. Charlie looked out the window to see a car pull into the Connalees’ driveway for about the fifth time that night. It was already bad enough that they left their porch lights on every night, but ever since their first son got married, somehow they became more…sociable. Which meant there were cars with too-bright headlights coming in and out and in and out of their driveway every single night.
“Well, I’m up now,” Charlie muttered to herself. “Might as well go make breakfast.” She kicked the sheets away from her and lazily made her way to the kitchen. She flipped the lights on and cringed again. After her eyes adjusted to the light, she pushed the button on the coffee maker and waited for it to start to pour coffee before spraying cooking oil onto a frying pan.
“Morning, Charles,” Charlie’s father said when he came down the stairs an hour later. “Conalees wake you up again?”
“Morning, Walter,” Charlie replied. “Yes. Coffee’s ready.”
“I’ll talk to them later. What’re you making?” He pulled a cup from the cabinet. “And what’s burning?”
“Egg McMuffins, McDorsey style. And, uh…” She laughed sheepishly. “I kind of screwed up on pancakes, so sorry about the smell of burnt wheat and flour.”
“Eh, you tried your best.” Walter scooped up a McMuffin from the plate and kissed Charlie’s cheek. “Don’t forget, you have to help the pregnancy center sort out baby clothes.”
“I won’t,” Charlie said dutifully.
“See you this afternoon.” He strolled out the door.
“Have a good day at work, dad,” she shouted after him. She put the pans in the sink and changed her clothes. She was still in her PJs, after all.

Clark’s Pregnancy Center was known for being the best center for helping pregnant women and mothers in need in the whole tri-county area. Since it was also the wealthiest and most-funded pregnancy center in the tri-county area, CPC was also willing to pay young people (most likely a bribe for keeping them off the streets) to assist them in any ways possible. Last week, CPC advertised that any teenager from 12 to 17-years old who helped sort and fold baby clothes would be paid $20 for their services. So it wasn’t a surprise to the people who worked it that almost all of Chesterdale’s youth came to earn an easy twenty bucks.
“Okay, kids,” chirped the elderly woman as soon as everyone gathered into the giant rec center CPC rented for the day. “Clean clothes are on this side,” she pointed to the left, “and unclean clothes are on this side.” She pointed to the right. “I’m going to bring out the treats while my grandson shows you what to do.” She skipped off to the exit, and Mark Chennovitz entered.
Mark Chennovitz was the largest 15-year-old any kid in Chesterdale had ever had the displeasure of knowing. Clocking in at 140 pounds of pure muscle and towering at 6-foot-3-inches tall, he was the scariest kid in town, second to that of his identical twin sister, Mary. She was just like Mark in every way, except much bigger and way scarier. No one had the guts to ever question their authority, even those who were older than them. And they tended to use this to their advantage.
“All right maggots, listen up,” he bellowed. “The clothes are already sorted into clean and unclean. Your job is to sort them into the sizes labeled on these tables.” He patted a nearby table. “When you are done with that, you are going to keep inventory of each size. Basically, what that means is is that you’re going to count every shirt, every pants, and so on and tally them onto this piece of paper.” He waved the piece of paper. He cut the group in half with his hand. “This half goes to the clean side, and this half goes to the unclean side. Any questions?”
“What do we do if we find, like, shoes, and stuff?” a boy asked. He sneezed, and then wiped his hand on his pants.
“Good question, Sicky. In all of these bags, you are going to find shoes, hats, gloves, socks, bibs, clothes for maternity, elementary and high school, and so on and so forth. Please put them on this table here.” He patted the table again and pointed at Charlie. “Robert here is going to sort those into categories for you.”
“It’s Charlie,” Charlie told him.
“Whatever you say, Timothy. Any other stupid questions?”
“Can we work in groups?” a 13-year-old girl with a ridiculously high-pitched voice spoke up.
“You, don’t talk so much. And, yes, you can. Speaking of, dearest Johnny!” he called.
“I think he means me, Johnny,” Charlie told Johnny, the boy who sneezed. “Yeeeees, milady?” she asked. No one in the group dared to laugh; they were too afraid of Mark’s reaction. Mark, however, smirked. He liked anyone who tried to question his authority.
“You get a partner as well. Hmm, who will volunteer?” No one did. The new kid who moved into Charlie’s neighborhood entered the center. “Excellent! Eric, you will work with the Gerbie.” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “The German newbie. All right, maggots get to work.” The group immediately scrambled off to work. “I love being in charge,” Mark muttered happily to himself.
“Hey,” Charlie told the new kid cheerily. “You’re going to be working with me today.” The new kid looked like he wanted to do anything but work with her, but he followed her to a table anyway. It was almost five feet long and it was situated in the middle of the room. “So they’re gonna hand us random things, and we’re going to make separate piles for them. They give us a bib; we put it in the bib pile. Do you understand?” He nodded. Immediately, someone gave them a big pile of toys and assorted shoes. “All right, let’s get to work,” she said with a smile. He turned away from her, and the smile was wiped off of her face.
They sorted clothes silently for a while. Then, Charlie heard a sound she had never heard before.
“Nikolaus.”
“Excuse me?” She asked him.
“My name…is Nikolaus,” the boy mumbled quietly. “It means…victorious.”
“Ah. I wonder what Charlie means.”
“Strong.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” She had a satisfied look on her face. Nikolaus didn’t have the heart to tell her that Charlie could mean ‘manly’ as well.
“You seem happy about something,” Mark said with a joking smile on his face from behind her. “Please, pray tell, do you get your jollies sorting out already colored in coloring books and smelly stuffed animals, Steven?” He drummed his fingers on her shoulder, but she pulled away.
“Nope, I’m just happy because I’m hanging with my new friend Nikolaus here. He’s really cool, have you met him yet, Mark? Mark, this is Nikolaus, Nikolaus, this is Mark.”
“Nice to meet you, Gerbie.” He stuck out his hand, and then immediately pulled away. “Psyche!” He laughed and walked off to another section.
“Don’t worry about him,” Charlie told Nikolaus. “He’s like that with everybody. Watch.”
“All right, how is everybody on this side doing?” Mark asked the clean side.
“Goo—”
“Yeah, yeah, no one cares. I’m not gonna bother memorizing your names, so I’m going to call all of the boys Ethan and all of the girls Elaine.”
“Hey! My name is Elaine,” the girl with the high-pitched voice called out.
“Didn’t I tell you not to talk as much? For your insolence, you will now be called Skeletor.” Elaine-er, Skeletor’s mouth was agape.
“I brought cookies!” the elderly woman sang as she scuffled into the room carrying a big plate of cookies. She checked her watch. “Oh dear, we’re plumb out time. Okay, kids, line up to collect your $20 and take as many cookies as you want.”
“Hooray!” the kids exclaimed. They pushed and shoved each other to get in front of the line.
“Ahp, ahp, ahp,” Mark told Elaine. “Back of the line, Skeletor.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the back of the line. He tapped Charlie on the shoulder as he passed and smiled a small smile at her. She turned and gave a small smile in return. Contrary to popular belief, Mark has always had a soft spot towards Charlie ever since she was the only person to not laugh at him when he was held back in kindergarten. She was also the only person to give him a valentine every year, even though the teachers specifically told everyone to give a valentine to everyone in the class.
“Listen up!” Mark bellowed as he blocked the exit, even though everyone was stuffing cookies down their pockets. “I’m assuming all of you are going to show up to Mary and I’s birthday party tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah!” everyone shouted. When they weren’t antagonizing everyone, the Chennovitz twins were known to throw huge parties, even when there wasn’t an occasion to celebrate.
“Excellent. Gerbie, our summons extends to you, though presents won’t be part of your invitation.” Nikolaus shrugged his shoulders, plucked the $20 from the woman’s hand and briskly walked out of the rec center. “You have your work cut out for you,” Mark told Charlie, patting her shoulder. Charlie wondered how he knew she took the bet, and then it clicked. Word spreads fast in a small town, especially when the one spreading it was Eli, a known gossip.
“Thanks for your support,” she mumbled. She pocketed the bill, grabbed her checkered canvas bag and headed out the door.

Charlie parked her bike at the entrance of Chesterdale Cemetery and took the flowers from the basket. She carefully stepped over gravestones until she arrived at the one she was looking for.

Lucas Dorsey
June 1, 1989-March 21, 2009
Son, Brother, Friend

She carefully took out the framed picture of him out of her bag and placed it at the head of the grave. The picture was of Lucas during happier times at his high school graduation. He was laughing and giving Charlie a noogie. He had a sparkle in his eyes and The Smile That Launched A Thousand Compliments was plastered on his face.  
“Happy birthday, Puke,” she said cheerfully, placing the forget-me-nots underneath the picture. “I would of brought cake, but then the birds would have ate it so…” She sat down and looked at the picture of Lucas. Even though he has been dead for a good two months, his warm smile almost felt like he was there with her. “But don’t worry, though. Next year, when you’re old enough to drink, I’ll get a bottle of champagne from the cellar or something and we’ll celebrate.”
“The bet started today,” she continued. “His name is Nikolaus, he is very German, and he doesn’t talk much. I guess that’s what you would call progress, huh?” She paused. “The Chennovitz party is tomorrow, and I have the perfect gifts. Candace is going to take me to the mall and get me what she calls a ‘suitable outfit’ for the party and the Summer Bash Friday. You’re probably wondering why they didn’t have the Summer Bash last Friday. There was, like, this HUGE storm, and it practically flooded Pebble Park where it’s usually held, and everyone had to go home in the rain and thunder and lightning and stuff. So, yeah, now it’s this Friday.” She laughed to herself. One of the few things Luke and Charlie had in common was that they liked to talk and talk and talk. Their parents liked to tell their friends that they could to a tree for hours on end if they wanted to.
“So, um…I guess that’s all I have to talk about.” She ran her fingers through her chocolate-brown hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke.” She put the picture back in her back and took off on her bike.