by Joy Jenkins
Donovan shook his head. "You've missed three classes in the last two weeks. You can't afford to miss another. You do still have to graduate."
She scowled. “I’m not sure I like how you pay attention to details."
He shrugged, unconcerned. As Carter slid off the trunk, Link followed. In companionable silence, they headed toward the front doors. Inside the halls were quickly emptying as groups disappeared into doorways. Outside their chemistry classroom, a dark-haired blur flung her arms around Link and he stumbled backward.
"I didn't see you come in," Amy said, keeping her arms draped around Link’s neck. “Hi.”
The soft note in her voice teased out Link’s goofy grin. “Hi.”
“Are you ready for the party tomorrow?"
Link looked at Carter and Donovan.
"Sure, I guess," he said.
"Good." Amy gave him a quick kiss. Retreating a step, she focused on Carter. "What are you planning on wearing?"
Carter stared at Amy, incredulous. "I was planning on clothes but that's only if I don't come up with a second option."
Amy laughed. "Alright, well, I'll see you in History."
She left, joining the last remaining students.
"What would your second option be?" Donovan taunted. "Going naked?"
“Please,” Carter said scornfully, “it’s far too cold to go naked. Nudity is for summer events only."
Chapter 33
At the top of the school’s front steps, Carter stood unmoving with Link and Donovan, forcing students to branch around them. She gripped her messenger bag strap.
“It changes nothing,” Donovan said.
Carter found courage in his steady blue eyes.
“It changes nothing,” she repeated.
Since the morning, the sun had made more breakthroughs in the clouds, sending patches of golden light onto the city. The trio wound through the rows of cars and piled into the Mercedes.
“Where to?” Donovan asked, starting the engine.
"The Sofitel hotel. It's in Lafayette Square.”
Donovan navigated the car out of the chaos of the parking lot and headed for downtown Washington D.C. The monuments looked like white beacons against the gray sky. Passing the White House, Carter instinctively glanced in the rearview mirror at Link. He stared out the opposite window but flexed his jaw once.
At the hotel's entrance, Donovan parked at the curb. Tall buildings crowded the sidewalks, pressed up against each other in camaraderie. Pedestrians in coats walked with determined steps to their final destinations. Carter reached for the door but Donovan stopped her with a question. "Do you want us to wait?"
Carter didn’t know how to respond. Reading her hesitation, Donovan glanced back at Link. "You want to get something to eat?”
“Sure,” Link said. “I know a place around here."
Carter felt like she could breathe a little easier. "Thank you."
With the encouraging weight of their eyes on her, she crossed the sidewalk. A sense of calm came over her as she pushed through the revolving door into the hotel. A lavish lobby lay before her: black and white patterned carpet covering the floor, high-backed couches lining the walls, a front desk of gray stone topped with glass. Beyond the entrance, an archway led to a low lit restaurant and bar. Everything about the place spoke of money.
Through the archway, Carter glimpsed her mother perched on a barstool, holding a half-empty glass of amber liquid. For a moment, Carter studied her. In the dim light, with her face perfectly made up, she didn’t look like the mother Carter had grown up with. She looked like a stranger. Though she felt a twinge of pain in her chest, she no longer felt her original anger.
As Carter cut through the tables, her mother noticed her and froze. Carter stopped before her. Her mother reached for her necklace, seeking comfort. Sliding her hands into her pockets, Carter eyed the pendant. At the pointed gaze, her mother lowered her hand.
"I didn't think I would see you again," she said.
"I know."
"How did you know where I was staying?" her mother asked, groping for something to say.
"I called around."
Her mother’s put together persona was cracking, showing nerves. Something about seeing her mother so unnerved by her sudden presence put Carter at ease.
"Why are you here?" her mother finally asked.
“I need to say something,” she said.
Surprise flicked in her mother’s eyes. She swallowed the rest of her drink and gestured for another. Carter recognized a woman who needed a drink to face her past.
In that moment, Carter found clarity. She saw a selfish woman, one who always took the easy way out. The weight of Carter’s imagined guilt lifted. Along with that realization was the truth that the love and strength in her life had always come from her father. Even before her mother left. That had never changed.
Nervous, Carter’s mother shifted in her chair, clutching the tumbler.
"I needed you," Carter said, calmly. "I was a fourteen-year-old girl. I needed a mother to help me, to guide me." Her mother's face flushed. "I needed you." A sad smile slipped across Carter’s lips. "At least, I thought I needed you. Turns out, I didn't."
Dazed, her mother could only stare at Carter.
Carter took a step back, boxing away her emotions. "If I ever want to see you again, I'll let you know. Goodbye, mother."
She walked away, not looking back. Not seeing her mother motion to the bartender and hold out her glass, shaking.
Carter pushed through the doors and into the night, relief slowly washed over her. She texted Donovan and waited by the curb. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and breathed in the evening air. The gray clouds had drifted away with the sun and above her, the first dots of stars popped into view.
A few minutes later, Donovan swung up to the curb and both boys studied her as she climbed in. She met their curious gazes with a peaceful one of her own.
"Thanks for the ride," she said. "Mind taking me home?"
Relief loosened all three tongues, they talked about school and listened as Link voiced his nervousness over the upcoming party.
When Carter spotted the windows of her apartment glowing, she felt a sudden sense of urgency. She gave a hasty goodbye and sprinted up the stairs.
"Hey," her father said, seated on the couch. "It's later than usual. Where have you been?"
Carter didn't answer as she sank beside him and hugged him. He put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
"I love you, Captain," she said.
He tightened his hold on her, understanding without needing to be told. "I love you too, Sarge. I’m not going anywhere."
She smiled. "I know."
Chapter 34
Carter scowled at her closet, hands on hips. A neat line of clothes lay before her, hues ranging from black to dark blue. There was no way around it: she didn’t know what to wear. And she hated it. Behind her, her punching bag hung tantalizingly, teasing her to forget the party and beat out her frustrations of not knowing how to be normal.
The front door opened and Maggie’s sweet voice floated through the apartment. A low murmured conversation took place followed by two taps at Carter’s door. Apparently, her father thought she needed reinforcements.
“Hey, Hon,” Maggie said peeking in and noting Carter’s ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. “What’s going on?” Carter huffed. “Steve heard mutterings.”
Traitor. "Yeah, well, Captain has nothing to be worried about." Carter crossed her arms, jutting out her chin defiantly. "I'm completely fine.”
Maggie flopped onto the edge of the neat bed and crossed her legs. "Is that so?" she said, a teasing note in her voice.
"Yup."
"So you're glaring at your closet because…"
Carter didn't answer. She would not be defeated by this. Holding in a smile, Maggie made to leave. "Alright, since you are completely fine. I will let you get back to it."
“Wait!" Carter said as Maggie re
ached for the doorknob.
"Yes?"
Carter wanted to punch something. Scowling again, she dug her hands into the pockets of her sweats, hating the gleeful light in Maggie's eyes. When her tongue remained securely behind her teeth, Maggie lifted an eyebrow. “Carter?"
Carter groaned, her head falling back. "What does someone wear to a party?"
A smile instantly jumped to Maggie's face and Carter raised her hand. "Laugh at me and I'll never talk to you again.”
Reigning in her delight, Maggie nodded.
"I thought I would wear what I just wore to the date, but...I don't know..." Carter growled and ran a hand through her damp hair. "This is stupid. I don't know why I even care? Amy just asked what I was wearing, so that made me wonder if I should actually be thinking about it. Which led me to wonder, if I had a mom would I be more aware of this stuff? Which led me to a complete blank on what to wear. And this is stupid. I sound like a pissy teenage girl.”
"Well, Hon, you still are a teenage girl. It's alright to sound like one," Maggie said, rifling through the clothes, eyeing certain items. "And yes, if your mother had been here when you were entering teenage life you would have been more aware of this stuff. But she wasn't and now you have me to help you." She gave Carter a soft smile. "I hope you don't mind.”
Carter felt some of her annoyance vanishing. “No, I don’t mind.”
"Good, because you're stuck with me.” Maggie handed Carter a blue shirt, jeans, and a pair of her nicer looking Converse.
"This looks almost exactly like what I wore for the date," she said.
"Well, that makes sense because you don't own a lot of variations. This will have to do. The blue is nice because it works well with your eyes." Carter accepted the items and Maggie planted her hands on her hips. "Now, what did you plan on doing with your hair?"
Carter blinked. "You say that like I had a plan at all instead of just letting it dry, or putting it up in a ponytail."
"Either works. If you want to do something different, I'll just be outside."
"What do you mean different? I'm not letting you curl my hair."
"No, I was thinking of just blow drying it."
"I don't know if we own a blow dryer."
"You do because I gave you one for your birthday two years ago."
"Good luck finding it. It's probably still in the box."
Maggie left the room to hunt for the once gifted hairdryer. As Carter finished changing, she heard a cry of triumph from Maggie.
"It was still in the box!" Maggie said as Carter stepped into the bathroom.
As Maggie tried to wrestle the hair drier out of the box, Carter opened a drawer and located a switchblade. “Here.”
Amused, Maggie accepted the knife, cutting the plastic ties.
"I probably never thanked you for the hairdryer," Carter said.
"You did and now you will get to use it."
"Did your mother teach you what to do?" Carter asked as she plugged in the hairdryer.
"Yes and since I don't have a daughter yet, I get the honor of teaching you.”
Ten minutes later, Carter's hair fell gently over her shoulders. For a moment, she looked at herself in the mirror. For the first time, she wasn't aware of all her mother's features in her face but her father's, realizing she had his round chin.
"What?" Maggie said.
"Nothing. I just think I look a little bit like Captain."
Maggie laughed. "Of course you do, Hon. No one could deny that." She clapped her hands, eager. "Now makeup?"
“No!"
The gut reaction hit Carter harder than she thought it would. Her mother's flawless face bursting into her mind.
”That's fine,” Maggie said, startled. “You are beautiful just the same.”
Carter took in a breath. "I'm going to grab my jacket.”
On her nightstand, her phone dinged with a message from Donovan, telling her that they were outside. She pocketed the phone, snatched her jacket, and walked out into the family room. Maggie sat at the table next to her father. He looked up as Carter pulled her satchel off the hook by the door.
"My ride is here," she said, pointing to the door with her thumb.
Crossing to her, her father placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what I'm going to say?"
"If I get high, drunk, or pregnant, it's military school for me."
Her father grinned. "Correct."
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "You look beautiful, Sarge."
"Thanks, Captain."
"Have fun tonight.”
"Do you actually mean that? Because my idea of fun is not a party but seeing if I can break into the Ukrainian Embassy."
"Either way, I will find you if you don't come home by midnight tonight."
Carter touched her necklace and saluted. "Got it. American soil it is." She slipped out the door but popped her head back inside. "Oh, and have fun you two." She sent her father a wink and disappeared.
His annoyed utterance followed her down the stairs. In the lane sat the black Mercedes. At the sight of her, Link stepped out and took a spot in the back. Carter slipped in and looked back at him, unaware of Donovan's blue eyes taking her in.
"You ready to partake in this night of teenage debauchery ?" she asked Link.
Link looked like he might be sick. "Are you?”
“No,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
◆◆◆
Even in the elevator, Carter could feel the thundering bass emanating from the penthouse.
"Pretty much everyone from school will be here, so it should be interesting,” Amy said, her voice growing in volume as the elevator rose.
Carter and Donovan exchanged looks. When the doors slid back, a wall of noise slammed into them. Following Amy, they headed into the chaos of loud conversations and dancing bodies.
“Let’s get a drink,” Amy said, tugging Link toward the kitchen.
Before Donovan could follow, Carter grabbed his arm. "I have a better plan than you playing puppy dog tonight.”
Donovan eyed her. “Puppy dog?”
"Because you would be following the two of them like a puppy. Come on."
Carter pushed her way through the grinding mass in the living-room-turned-dance-floor out to the balcony. The cool night air felt pleasant compared to the overheated interior. Carter walked along the balcony until she found a viewpoint of the kitchen. Amidst the ever-changing scene, she picked out Amy and Link pouring drinks.
"Now you don't have to be an overbearing friend," she said, lounging against the railing.
As he claimed the spot beside her, Donovan brushed his arm with hers, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Have you ever been to a high school party before?"
His voice seemed quiet compared to the deafening noise that pushed against the glass. The scene before them was a clash of flirtations, arguments, break-ups, and make-outs.
“Nope,” she said. "I didn't have any friends to ask me to any.”
At the admittance, Donovan peered down at her. "Link and I are really your only friends?”
Not meeting his gaze, Carter shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “Yeah, you are.” She didn’t say anything else for a moment. "Before my mom left I went to a public school and had friends. But when I transferred to Hamilton, things were…different."
"Your mother left and you were below everyone around you in money and status."
Carter let out a small breath. "Even if I had a mind to make friends, I wasn't in the place to do so.” She looked up at him. "Have you been to a party?"
"Yes," he said. "We went to a couple at our old school. They were more low key than this."
"This isn't a common occurrence for you?"
Donovan shook his head. "The weekends are usually pretty quiet. Except for once every couple of months."
"Seeing his father. When does he get to see him next?"
"Sunday."
Carter found where Link bent close to Amy, smiling, for al
l appearances a normal teenage boy. He said something and Amy threw her arms around his neck, laughing up at him.
"How does he feel about it?" Carter asked.
Donovan didn't answer right away, his eyes trained on Link. "It's never an easy thing. But I think he prefers to have the visits rather than not."
Carter pulled her jacket tight around her. It was cold so many stories up but she didn't suggest they go back into the party. Out of their line of sight, they heard a shout as a pair of drunk teenage boys decided to beat each other up. Link and Amy remained unfazed by the commotion.
"You want something to drink?" he asked.
"Are you sure you can go in there and make it back alive? Some of these girls look wasted and their aggression and hormone levels are probably high."
"I've taken down 250 lbs Marines, I can handle a few wasted teenagers."
Carter waved her hands towards the doors. "Then, by all means, go get me a soda. This should be fun to watch.”
Without commenting, Donovan slipped inside, the volume rising and spilling out over the city. Carter tracked him through the party, avoiding girls and teasing hands. Captivated by his progress, she wasn't conscious of Lucas approaching.
Lucas leaned against the railing and eyed her up and down. When Carter looked at him, her expression fell into boredom. Along his jaw, she could see the fading bruise from Donovan's fist.
"Owens," he said, the reek of alcohol on his breath. "You look hot."
"Could you be any more of a cliché at this moment?" she asked.
He sidled closer, one hand sliding on the railing and inching along her back. "Come on, you know everyone knows we have a 'will they, won't they' thing going on.”
“Lucas, I didn’t find you attractive when you hit on me in freshman year and since then you've only managed to repulse me further. The fact that you cling to this fantasy that we will hook up someday is a little disturbing. Especially when all you do is insult me. I suggest getting some help.”
It spoke to the level of alcohol in Lucas’s system that all he did was grin. “You have fantasies about me too?”
