Good, Sweet Charlotte?

Looking around for a few moments, you try to recall what had happened in your dream, only to hear a sudden knock at the door. Jumping on your feet , you rush yourself to get dressed, haphazardly tossing on a pair of pajamas before running down the stairs, getting another knock on the door in the process. As you reach the door, you hear a third knocking set.

"Yes, yes, I am here! What do you-" You are cut off as you swing open the door and see Charlotte is standing in front of you, and your face immediately flushes red as your dream from last night rushes back into your mind.

"Hey...what was your name again?" She asks, and you go to answer but get cut off. "A-Actually, it doesn't matter...listen, can I...come in for a moment? I just want to talk really quick." She says, and you barely get a nod in before she is heading into your house. Your house. You let that sink in for a moment as she sits down, and you sit next to her on the couch. You notice her scoot over away from you slightly, before sighing and looking towards you.

"Last night...I had this dream, and there was something that really bothered me about it..." Her gaze wavers for a brief moment, noticeable enough to you but not enough to bring it up. "I...I thought about you for some reason, about you throwing my life out of whack...and I remember hearing something about wanting your money..." She trails off, and you start growing impatient as she tries to get her thoughts in order. "What I wanted to ask you was...do you really view me that way? Like s-someone who just uses people for their money?" She asks, making you swallow down a lump in your throat. This was not the question you wanted to hear, nor the question you truly knew how to answer. Sure, you had heard rumors in high school, but they were all from other guys, so who's to know how many of them were true or just people being jealous of not being with her? You go to speak, but something just seems to take over for you as you do so.

"Yes, yes I do think you're like that Charlotte. I heard nothing but rumors at high school about you making all the other boys pay for your meals and services while you never gave out, and it pissed me off to see you try to dress like some good christian girl from down south when you were always the one who came into school with a new boyfriend at the start of each week." You blurt out, and see a cross look forming on Charlotte's face...but instead of the slap you are expecting, you are met with her bursting into tears and collapsing onto your shoulder.

Stunned and confused, you simply look on for a few moments as she bawls her eyes out, dampening your rather soft pajama shirt and causing the tears to pierce through and start rolling down your shoulder. After a few minutes of this, Charlotte looks back up at you, and you notice streaks of mascara and makeup falling from her eyes, down her cheeks, and dripping off with each tear that sinks down to drop onto your couch.

"I...I didn't mean to be like that! I swear I, I didn't mean to hurt all of them! I...I just was so caught up in them offering to pay, them trying to be the g-gentlemen t-that I...that I..." She chokes on her words, going right back to sobbing on your shoulder. After a few more minutes, she finally seems to build up the resolve to look you in the eye once more.

"I...I feel horrible for what I did...and I don't know why you had appeared but...it was like you were the revelation my life needed! A-And...and I..." She begins to stutter, a blush crossing her cheek. "I want to make it up...I want to repent for what I did to them...a-and I know I can't repent for what I did to them....t-to them, b-but I want...I want to r-repent to you." She says...

What.

"What the hell do you mean repent?" You ask her, and she snivels before looking up at you again.

"I want...I want to date you...b-but do it right this time. I want to r-repay the kindness that all of those g-guys had for me, t-towards you! S-So please...p-please let me repent...let me date you!" She asks, almost on the verge of begging...and you get flashbacks. Flashbacks to all four years of high school, to all of the rejection you suffered through, through all of the mental anguish, the thoughts of ending it all, the nightmares about how nobody would miss you if you were gone...and you feel that deep well of hatred begin to erupt once more. Without even thinking, you grab Charlotte by the collar of her shirt.

"You think I'm just going to agree to date you because YOU fucked up in life? That I am going to settle for being some fucking rebound from the countless manwhores who you dated and abused the trust of for money? You think I care about whether you could control it or not? You never reached out to me and asked how I did after being rejected by everyone and anyone I asked out in that school, you never even TALKED to me before I suddenly got this windfall of money! I'm not going to let you use me like you used them, and I'm not going to let you rebound off me until the itch comes back and you wind up the trophy wife of some athlete or actor just because he has the money to support some high roller lifestyle you dream of! Go fuck yourself Charlotte! Take that saccharine bullshit and get out of my house! If you are serious about dating me, I want you to fucking prove it to me!" You rant, dragging her by the collar and shoving her out your front door, slamming it on her in the process.

You swear you can hear her crying once more, but you just don't care at this point. She had the nerve to come to YOUR doorstep, welcome herself in without really asking for YOUR permission, bawl her eyes out and RUIN your shirt and your couch with those crocodile tears and sob story, and try to ask you suddenly to go out with her just because she wants to REPENT!? Even with your beliefs on the existence of god aside, to use you just to repent to some deity out there is complete BULLSHIT! You stomp your way upstairs, and find that your phone is lighting up with text messages. Somehow she had gotten your phone number, and is now absolutely blowing it up with messages about being sorry, about truly wanting to repent, about actually wanting to date you...and you simply put it down back onto the nightstand, turning it to silent mode as you begin to cool off from what just happened.