“Well that’s the thing. He promised me he wouldn’t go there again,” I confess.
“And he did? Is that where he was yesterday?” she asks, her eyes widening as she waits for my answer.
“I think so. He had some parts on hold at Mr. Gregory’s shop because he couldn’t afford them. Today, he had the money.”
“That’s doesn’t mean he got it from her. Maybe his mum gave it to him.” If it hadn’t been so much money, then that could’ve been a possibility.
“The parts were over a thousand dollars, Meg. His mum doesn’t work and I can’t see Mr. Shepard forking over that kind of cash. When I asked him where the money came from, he said that he’d come into some money yesterday, but didn’t elaborate. How is a seventeen year old going to earn over a thousand dollars in one day without, you know …?”
“Shit, if she paid him that much money just for sex, he must be fucking amazing in bed. Like, mind-blowing.” She’s probably right, but I have no plans of finding out. I need to stay as far away from Carter-friggin’-Reynolds as I can get. It’s going to be hard when I live next door to him, but if I want to protect my heart I don’t have a choice.
Carter
I sat up half the night waiting for her to come home, but she never did. By morning I’m fucking pissed off. Pissed I let my guard down with her. Pissed that she weirded out on me and I have no clue why. Pissed that she never came home.
I don’t even bother waiting to give her a lift to school. What’s the point? Even if she was home, after her performance yesterday afternoon she probably wouldn’t accept one anyway. Fuck her. Maybe it’s for the best if we go back to what we were. Nothing. This shit is too complicated. It hurts my fucking head.
During the day I see her a few times, but when she notices me she turns and walks in the other direction. It only serves to piss me off even more. At lunch she has Brad at her table again. It makes my blood boil.
When afternoon rolls around, I’m not surprised when she doesn’t turn up in the car park. On my drive home, I see her waiting at the bus stop. It tells me everything I need to know. I flip her off when I pass. The anger has worn off. It’s now replaced by hurt. I hate this feeling. It’s been a long time since I felt like this. Rejected.
I did plan to work on my car this afternoon, but I’ve even lost interest in that. Instead, I grab my sketchpad from under the passenger seat and go to my room. The first thing I do is close my blinds. I don’t need any reminders of Indiana. And I certainly don’t want to risk having to see her.
I sit on my bed with my back against the headboard. If I can lose myself in my drawing I won’t have time to think about her.
As soon as I open the cover I see the number Candice wrote in there. I’m tempted to call her. Maybe losing myself in some random pussy is exactly what I need. Indi has made it quite clear she’s not interested.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I decide to call her. “Candice speaking,” she says when she picks up.
“Hey Candice, it’s Carter. I was in there on Sunday—”
“Oh I know who you are. You have the kind of face a girl would never forget. Have you decided to take me up on my offer?” she purrs after cutting me off.
“Yeah. You still up for it?”
“Of course. Name the time and place and I’ll be there, handsome,” she says seductively.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight sounds perfect. I get off work around 6:00pm. How about I meet you at 8:00pm?”
“Great. I’ll text you my address,” I say apprehensively. I’m not even sure if I want to do this.
“Looking forward to it,” she replies.
Once I end the call I text her my address and ask her to call me when she’s close. I don’t explain why. She’ll find out when she gets here I suppose. I’m not sure how she’s going to feel about me sneaking her through my bedroom window, but I’ll worry about that later.
“Fuck. You didn’t tell me you still lived at home with your parents. How old are you anyway?” Candice asks as I haul her through the window.
“I’ll be turning eighteen soon.”
“Shit. You’re still a kid,” she says in a shocked tone as I set her on the floor.
“I’m not a fucking kid,” I snap. Of all the words she picks, it’s fucking that.
“You look older.” What does age have to do with anything? I may be young, but I know I’ll be the best damn fuck she’s ever had.
“Are we going to do this or not?” I ask frustrated as I begin to lose my patience with her.