Charlie knew better than to contradict Veruca's wishes, so he let her finish her exercises before they spent time together, taking a seat on the very sofa he put in so much effort to get all the way up to her penthouse while the little brute continued contorting her body in ways the Good Boy could never even dream of being able to do. He had a clear view of many interesting things inside her penthouse, such as a large, horizontally-hanged black and portrait of Veruca herself dressed up as Audrey Hepburn, wearing oversized sunglasses and a floral-patterned headscarf as she lounged in the passenger seat of a convertible. The little brute had other pictures of herself scattered about her home, just another way to boost her ego, Charlie thought, as nobody who entered her home left without knowing whose home it was. From the spot he was seated on the sofa, Charlie took in the marvelous views, all the hung art pieces, the decorative furniture accessories that were sprinkled about on every table and counter, but none of the material goods captured the Good Boy's attention as much as the ballerina exercising right in front of his very eyes. If you would have told him just a month ago that he would be spending his summer weekends with such a beautiful woman, the Good Boy would have told you to stop lying, but that was exactly what he had been doing, going to dinner, banquets and mini vacations with a model and former professional ballerina. While such a partner was not uncommon when it came to other wealthy, professional men, he knew those women didn't really love their partners, just their money, and astonishingly, Veruca didn't fall into that pile. Surprisingly, the little brute did not seem to want to spend time with the Good Boy because of his money, she just liked spending time with him, and so did Charlie with her.
Never in a million years could Charlie, the gangly boy who a decade ago had been ridiculed by every girl at his school, have ever believed he would be spending so much time with someone as stunning, elegant and beautiful as Veruca. It was like a dream come true for his younger self, the shy boy who focused on his studies ended up with the prettiest and coolest girl in all of school, and, sure she was often loud and insensitive, but he oddly found those qualities, which were the polar opposite of his, in her to be quite alluring. Even more odds-defying was just how slim the chances of their relationship blossoming truly was, it was their status as Golden Ticket winners and participation in the tour of Wonka's factory that brought them together. If it hadn't been for their shared experiences, the little brute never would have paid him any attention. Charlie never could have imagined talking to a girl who showed him no interest after she drunkenly screamed at him to leave her alone, he only pursued a conversation after realizing the person seated across from him on another barstool shared an experience with him that only a select few knew about.
The time that separated their unique experience from the present had a funny way of changing people yet also keeping them the same. The heir had not changed much apart from stretching like mad, as his mentor would say, and the exact same could be said about the little brute. Their personalities had been kept intact; they had survived over a decade of external forces attempting to reshape them. He was still the quiet, creative type while she was still assertive and histrionic. But even more interesting was how the little brute used her talents to make a living. Every once and a while, Veruca would pull out her phone and take workout selfies and post them to her SwiftyPic account to both receive the mass validation for her looks that she desired and to promote all of the athletic gear she was contractually obligated to promote to her followers. Her influencing deals brought a steady flow of income into the little brute's bank account, not that she actually needed to work a single second of her life in order to afford her lifestyle, that being as long as her father was still alive to cover all of her living expenses. Nevertheless, the little brute had found a way to maintain her accustomed standard of living once her aging father took his last breath. And in a way, Veruca was much more self-made than Charlie was, oddly enough, something that captivated the Good Boy beyond her good looks.
Now, Charlie waited and waited on the sofa but the little brute seemed nowhere close to being done exercising and he was growing more bored every passing second, he didn't know what he was going to do to pass the time until he spotted a bookshelf off to the corner, and so told his host, "If you don't mind, Veruca, I'm going to read one of your books"
"Go right ahead," the little brute replied from the floor where she was preoccupied doing the splits and touching her toes by reaching with her long arms.
Veruca had a tall, thin white bookshelf with every shelf filled with texts of differing sizes; now, Charlie enjoyed a good book, but he first had to choose one from her fine selection to read before sitting back down on the couch and passing the time, which he did as he glanced at the collection on one shelf and curiously read out loud the titles, "The Varieties of Religious Experience. The Meaning of Treason."
The little brute was an interesting woman with many hidden talents, but a penchant for books of this caliber was not one that would have come across the Good Boy's mind. They were all so academic and intellectual, quite the opposite of what many would consider the go-to for someone as vain as the brat. This discrepancy with her personality and her possessions lead Charlie to actively question why she had such a collection of books in the first place, and so he turned over to his hostess, and proclaimed, "I wouldn't have taken you as someone who read books like these, Veruca."
The little brute heard that message from halfway across the room and stopped her exercises to process what she had just heard, but unlike Charlie, she knew more about her life than he did, so she mumbled to herself a cryptic message, grumbling, "That's 'cause my books are on the shelves below."
"What was that, Veruca?" Charlie responded, apparently Veruca hadn't been quiet enough that the Good Boy was able to pick up on what she was whispering. And since it was strange that Veruca kept books on her bookshelf that were not hers, Charlie became distracted wondering why the brat kept someone else's books on her bookshelf, and more importantly, who did the books belong too? Mr. Salt? Perhaps, but why would he keep books here instead of his home? There must have been a more logical answer than Veruca's father, but Charlie was stuck and could not think of anybody else who the owner of the books could be at that moment.
On the other hand, the little brute could see that Charlie was in the middle of a deep thought, and in order to get him to stop overanalyzing what she had just said, and as a result of her revelation, to stop him from uncovering something she would prefer he didn't, she interrupted him, and quickly blurted out at him, "Uh…nothing, nothing at all. Never mind. Yes, I do read books like that. There's a lot about me you haven't learned yet."
The panic in his hostess' voice was enough to stop Charlie from continuing to bark up this tree, and in order to keep the peace he looked over to face the former ballerina, and earnestly informed her of his intentions, saying, "Well, I hope I'm worthy enough to learn everything about you soon enough."
Veruca sighed out of relief before continuing with her exercises whereas Charlie took another look throughout the bookshelf and picked out a book on landmarks from across the United Kingdom. The heir curled up on the corner of the sofa and flipped through the pages of photographs of natural wonders as well as man-made engineering achievements from around his country, but not without occasionally peeping up from the book and fawning over his fellow Golden Ticket winner. Whenever Veruca turned back and saw Charlie ogling her, the Good Boy would cower and bury his face in between the pages of the book, and oddly enough it was this example of Charlie's shyness that distracted both of them from the awkward encounter that had transpired just a few minutes prior.