by Joy Jenkins
Beaming, Maggie playfully nudged Carter’s arm. “Look at you making friends!”
Carter looked around as if she were not in the right dimension. “Why in the world would you assume that? That’s just what I observed. I only talked to two of them.”
Maggie huffed in exasperation. “Did you make friends with them or did you interrogate them?”
“Like I would do that?”
Maggie raised her eyebrows, disbelieving, which made Carter grin.
“I walked with them to class and they had lunch with me,” Carter said.
Her smile fell away as she stared out the window. The street lights began to pop on, illuminating the sidewalks and the patches of dead leaves stuck in the gutters.
“There’s something…off about them. I can’t figure out what their deal is.”
“Not everyone has a deal, Carter.”
It was Carter’s turn to look disbelieving. “Not everyone has to have a deal but everyone does.”
"Were you at least nice to them?" Maggie asked.
"When have you ever known me not to be nice?"
When Maggie offered a flat expression, Carter went on. "They walked with me to class and then sat with me at lunch. So that means one of two things: one, they have seen past my rough exterior to the warm-hearted young lady that I am," Maggie snorted. "Or two, they are both insane and found my observant mumblings intelligible."
"They sat with you, huh? What are they like?" Maggie asked.
Carter sank back in the booth, brow furrowed in thought. “They didn’t make sense. They introduced themselves by saying they were friends because they lived next door to each other. Part of it rang true, but…”
Carter drummed her fingers on the tabletop, while Maggie watched her, amused.
“Link says Donovan keeps bullies away in turn for help with homework. But Donovan takes advanced placement classes for all his subjects. Why would he need Link? Another strange thing is that Link is smart but he is constantly overlooked because of Donovan. It seems to bother Link but he doesn't do anything about it. He lets himself be ignored and hides behind Donovan.”
Mulling over Donovan, Carter gazed onto the street. A couple walked by, the light overhead making their silvery hair glow. “Donovan…is a complex puzzle. Throughout the day he received a lot of attention. Although he seems to dislike it, he doesn’t discourage it. It’s like he uses it as a shield to mask something else.”
Carter let out a breath. Donovan was unreadable to a frustrating extent. No normal person had that much control over their emotions.
Maggie placed a hand on Carter’s arm. “Hon, was there anything about them that you liked?”
Confused, Carter frowned. “Of course. They don't scare easily.”
Maggie laughed, a bright, clear sound. Her laughter faded as the bell rang and a new flood of customers swept in. “That’s my break over. I’ll have your sandwiches ready at the counter.”
After taking her time with the last of her cookie, Carter packed up her things. At the counter Maggie set down two wrapped sandwiches. Carter tucked them under her arm.
“Tell Steve to come home safely,” Maggie said.
Something inside of Carter’s chest squeezed at her heart. “Will do.”
Leaving the deli, Carter jogged across the road, skipping over a crack in the pavement. The narrow lane she entered was hemmed in with shoulder-high fences, the backyards hidden from sight. Carter turned into a gap between the wooden barriers where her house lay isolated. The metal staircase creaked as she ascended to the apartment above a garage.
She dropped her keys into the chipped ceramic bowl, stepped out of her shoes, and bumped the door shut. The lone photo on the wall fell, landing on the carpet with a muted thump. Dumping her backpack on the couch, Carter picked up the fallen frame, pushed the loosened nail back into the wall, and rehung the photo, not glancing at the picture behind the glass. Changing out of her school uniform into sweatpants and an old Navy SEAL t-shirt, Carter sank onto the living room couch. She curled her legs underneath her and fingered an edge of the fraying couch cushion.
Instead of pulling out her homework, she stared around at the sparse apartment. On the dining room table were stacks of paper in neat military order. Proudly displayed on the refrigerator was Carter’s best target sheet from the gun range. The living room walls held faded patches of paint where multiple family photos once hung, blank now except for the single framed photo - a gift from Maggie. In the photo, Carter and her father sat on opposite sides of a booth in Maggie’s deli, laughing, unaware the photo was being taken.
Carter stared at the lone frame until the light faded and she finally turned to her homework. As time slipped by, textbooks and notebooks slowly spread out across the couch around her.
When she heard the rattle of the outside staircase, she snatched up a pencil. She sent it flying as the door swung open.
“Heads up!” she warned.
Her father snatched the pencil out of the air, scowling at her. “Is that any way to greet your father?” he asked, adding his keys to the bowl.
“Don’t worry, I calculated it so the eraser would have hit you. It would have startled any attacker just enough for me to take them down.”
“Why throw it at all?” her father asked, nudging the door shut.
Slipping out of his coat, he draped it over the one armchair. When he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, Carter felt as if he were discarding the Secret Service agent side of him
“You’re wearing different shoes than this morning,” she said. “It made your tread sound different.”
“There was an incident with the British ambassador and a pond.” He removed his tie and added it to the pile on the back of the chair. “It could have been Maggie stopping by.”
“No, it couldn’t have,” Carter said. “She wears sneakers and doesn’t have your whisper tread.”
As her father headed to the kitchen, he tossed the pencil back at her. “Whose daughter are you?”
“Yours. I have the blood work to prove it.”
Her father chuckled and Carter sank back into the well-worn couch. “Anything interesting happen at work?”
“Yeah, but it’s classified,” her father said. “Anything interesting happen at school?”
“Yeah, but it’s classified.”
When her father raised his head over the rim of the refrigerator door, Carter offered him a toothy grin. Shaking his head, her father retrieved the sandwiches. He bumped the fridge door closed and tossed one wrapped sub to Carter. She swept away her chaos of notebooks and papers to allow him access to the couch.
With a sigh, he settled down beside her. After they had tucked away most of their dinner, Carter shifted, facing her father. He paused, reading the question building on her tongue.
“Are you planning to ask Maggie out?” she asked. Her father turned back to his food. “Because I would fully approve.”
Her father swallowed his bite, a wrinkle forming on his brow. “Sarge…”
“You should be aware that I believe she’s already adopted me in her mind. How else do you explain the free food?”
Her father dragged a hand through his hair, disrupting the neatly combed strands. “Sarge, it’s complicated.”
“I don’t see how? It’s been four years since the divorce.” Carter squeezed the wax paper into a tight ball. Letting out a breath, she pushed aside the memories of her mother. “I don’t want you to die a lonely old man.”
“I won’t,” her father said. He cocked his head, offering her an affectionate smile. “I have you. You’re all I need. My world is complete.”
Carter snorted and threw the bunched up wrapper at his head. He caught it.
“I’m running away with my Marine boyfriend, remember?”
All levity was wiped from her father’s face. “Still not funny. You’ll date a Navy SEAL or no guy at all. I want you to be with someone that can keep up with you as well as protect you.”
Cart
er gave a sharp salute that was drenched in mockery. “Yes, Captain, as you say.”
Her father stared at her, only half-amused. Collecting the trash, he headed into the kitchen. “Finish your homework and we’ll do a quick gun assembling quiz. I have to pack for tomorrow’s trip.”
The playfulness was sucked out of the room. Controlling her expression, Carter reached for her abandoned computer. At her silence, her father glanced back.
“It’s only four days,” he said, gently.
Carter said nothing, staring at her computer screen. Her father crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Sarge.”
“I know.”
Chapter 5
Carter glared at the blanket of gray clouds as her father stopped the SUV at the school steps. A mix of navy and maroon blazers surged towards the front doors, a parade of faceless students.
“It’s only four days, Sarge,” her father said. “I’ll be home Friday. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
By the time Carter stepped out of the car and turned back to her father, she’d successfully hidden her emotions away.
“Sounds good,” she said. “Remember, you only have six months left on the job. There’s really no point in getting injured now. Let one of the newbies take the bullet. Or pick Anderson. I never liked that guy.”
Her father chuckled. “I love you, Sarge.”
Carter felt her throat tighten but she plastered on a convincing smile. “I love you too, Captain.”
After shutting the door, Carter trudged up the stairs, unable to keep the smile in place. At the top, she watched the SUV disappear into the river of traffic. A chill wind whipped around her and she felt the bite of cold in her chest. Students brushed past her, urging her to move.
Layers of voices filled the crowded hallway as she made her way through the throng. Someone forcefully knocked her shoulder and annoyance sparked inside her. The culprit was a muscular boy with golden-brown hair and a face designed to smirk.
“Owens,” Lucas said, loud enough to draw the attention of his friends. “Did you ever realize your father is already dressed for his funeral?”
Ice invaded Carter followed by a flash of fire as the boy’s friends laughed. Carter held onto the fire, needing it.
“Lucas,” she said, feigning curiosity. “I saw your car outside, did your dad get a two-for-one deal with Bentley?” Lucas stared at her, confused. “Because it’s the same car he got his mistress.”
Tense silence pulsed from Lucas and his friends, all of them glowering at Carter. Lucas curled his fists, his mouth made a thin, hard line. In response, Carter took a step forward, unmasking her anger.
“Do it,” she whispered. “I’m dying for a reason to punch someone.”
Lucas hesitated, his fury faltering under doubt as Carter knew it would. Some dogs were all bark.
“Pity,” she said. “I thought you might be up for a challenge.”
Lucas crossed his arms as his friends nudged him. “You know, normally I would. But my family has a rule about hitting the underprivileged.”
“Funny, my family has that same rule except about the mentally deficient.”
Carter walked away before Lucas could reply, though one of his friends yelled a name at her, which she ignored. It was a title she’d been called before and would again.
Inside her chemistry classroom, she settled in at her table, dumping her satchel onto the top. A shadow fell across the surface as Link took the seat next to hers.
“I’m impressed,” she said. “Most people don’t come looking for round two.”
Though she said it, Carter couldn’t ignore feeling hopeful.
“I figured you have to run out of punches sooner or later,” Link said.
“You would think that, wouldn’t you?”
“Should I be ready to block?”
Under Carter’s scrutiny, he fidgeted but didn’t back down.
“You tell me?” she said. “Got something more to hide than fake glasses and a weird co-dependency on Donovan?”
Despite the quick 1-2 jab, Link laughed. “You don’t really pull your punches, do you? Is there something wrong with having a friend?”
“No. And I have a Navy SEAL for a father. Pulling punches is not something I was taught.”
Link bounced a pen on his knee, a nervous tic. “It’s a new school and Donovan is the only person I know here,” he said evenly, though Carter detected defensiveness in his tone.
“Alright, we’ll stick with that answer. Where is your bodyguard, anyway?”
Adjusting his glasses, Link blinked at her, baffled. “What do you mean, bodyguard?”
“Donovan. You described him yesterday as the person who kept the bullies away. Hence my use of the title bodyguard.”
Carter noticed as Link relaxed.
“Right. He’s two rows back.”
When Carter twisted in her seat, Donovan locked eyes with her. She gave him a brief nod but he didn’t respond. Though she was accustomed to students not talking to her, his lack of expression felt like something other than dislike. What it was she couldn’t tell. The bell rang and the last trickle of students, including Mason Douglas and his Secret Service agent, filed into the room. When Link followed Mason’s progression to the back of the class, Carter elbowed his ribs.
“Right, staring. It’s weird,” he said.
“Phones away,” Mr. Rojas said, cutting off Carter’s reply. “If I hear one ring or ding it’s mine.”
◆◆◆
A clash of voices and footsteps greeted Carter and Link as they stepped out of their chemistry classroom. Before Link could ask, Carter leaned against a set of lockers to wait. The wood vibrated along her spine as students slammed doors shut. When Donovan appeared, Carter headed off to history, Link scrambling after her. Donovan followed but with more control than a floundering puppy like Link.
Sharp laughs cut through the thick layer of noise, followed by a weak protest. Carter halted, searching for the source. Further down the hallway stood a semi-circle of boys, facing a set of lockers. Without giving an explanation, Carter approached the group. Behind her, Link and Donovan exchanged glances before going after her. Another protest reached Carter as she stepped up to the gang of boys.
She flicked the ear of one. When he turned around, Carter forced herself into the center of the huddle. Slumped against the lockers cowered a scrawny, freckled-faced boy with oversized glasses.
“Hey, Edmond,” she said.
He lifted his eyes to her. “Hey, Carter.”
Crossing her arms, Carter put her back to Edmond, facing the semi-circle. The group instinctively edged back a step. At the center stood Lucas. Clearly he hadn’t taken well to Carter’s earlier verbal takedown.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. “A little early for this much testosterone, isn’t it?” She focused on the boy next to Lucas. “Hey Zac, how’s the shoulder?”
Zac rolled his shoulder reflexively as if he could still feel the pain of it being wrenched from its socket.
“Hurt pretty bad when the nurse popped it back in, didn’t it?” Carter gave a careless shrug. “I offered to do it for you.”
Lucas raised a hand, silencing Zac’s retort. “This is none of your business, Owens. Leave,” he commanded.
Raising her eyebrows, Carter nodded, ignoring the unspoken threat. "True, but you have no business getting into Edmond's business. So I have decided, since none of us is minding our own business, I’m going to get involved in this business.”
The boys all exchanged looks, trying to see if their companions understood. The fact that they didn’t, didn’t surprise her. They were all idiots.
“Look, Owens, this is between us and Edmond. You should leave before you hurt yourself.”
The comment was laughable, but Carter didn’t laugh. Instead, she met each set of eyes.
“Look, I like Edmond,” she said. “And I don’t like you. If you continue to bully him I’m going to explain how this wil
l go down.”
She pivoted to the boy on the left. “I’m going to break your nose because I don’t like your face.” She pointed to Zac. “I’m going to dislocate your other shoulder, just to make them even.” She gave Lucas a sickly sweet smile. “I’m going to break your wrist, taking away your baseball career. And finally you, Finch,” she said, spinning towards the last boy. “I’m going to bust your ankle because I don’t like the way you walk.” As if they offered no danger to her at all, she slid her hands into her pockets. “Now, how does that future sound to all of you? And please feel free to look amused, skeptical, or patronizing. I would have all the more fun wiping the expressions off your faces.”
As she finished speaking, she leveled a hard glare at Lucas. He flinched as if she had already struck him, but didn’t move. Some people didn’t know when to quit. Carter flexed her fingers, anticipation making them tingle. The energy crackling around them snapped when Lucas smirked.
“You know what,” he said as if he found the whole situation amusing. “We are going to leave because I would hate to make that face of yours any uglier.” He retreated a step. “See you around, Owens.”
The boys laughed as they started to leave, their minds already forming the story into where they came out on top. As Finch passed Carter, he smacked her on the butt. Anger seared through her. In the time it took Link to suck in a breath and Donovan to take a step forward, Carter had seized Finch’s hand and forced it backward. He dropped to one knee, as she kept his hand in an iron grip. Bending forward, she stared at him as if she could tear out his soul.
“Touch me again and you will find out how fast I can break five of your bones without breaking a sweat,” she said, her voice as sharp as a knife.
Finch winced, face turning white, his lips pressed together.
“Understand?” Carter asked.
Finch nodded frantically, his eyes narrowing in pain.
“Good.”
She released him. When she faced Edmond still slumped on the floor, her anger slipped away. With a sigh, she helped him up.
“Ed, what did we talk about?” she asked, exasperated.
Embarrassed, Edmond pushed his glasses up and dusted off his disheveled blazer. “Sorry, Carter.”
