We Are the Stars

by Teagan Hunter

  “So, that happened,” Carsen says once Bryan closes his door. “Guess he knows now.”

  “Which means my dad will know know soon.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I stick by what I said before: I’m not embarrassed of you, and I don’t care who knows we’re…well, whatever it is we’re doing. That includes my father and my family.”

  Carsen nods. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  He smiles and it’s sad. “Just…thank you.”

  This time it’s me who steps into him. I push myself onto the tops of my toes and go to press a kiss to his lips before he jerks back, causing me to fall into him. He catches me and stands me upright, moving me back at least a foot.

  “Bryan said no kissing.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead.” He starts shaking his head back and forth fervently. “No, no.” He backs up, his arms outstretched in front of him. “You’re giving me sex eyes and I can’t ignore your sex eyes.”

  “We’ve never even had sex, Carsen.”

  “Yes, but if you keep giving me those fucking sex eyes, we will. Right here, right now.”

  “You’d bang me in a bowling alley?”

  He growls in frustration as I take another step toward him. “Yes! Now back away, but do it slowly so I can watch your hips sway.”

  “You perv.”

  “Says the one giving me sex eyes in our place of employment.”

  I take another step and he bolts, screaming, “SEX EYES!” before slamming and locking the storeroom door.

  I’m hunched over with bellyaching laughter when Cal walks in and gives me a quizzical look. I simply shrug and say, “Sex eyes.”

  He nods like he understands completely. “That’ll do it. Can I get three games and a pair of shoes?”

  And we go on like nothing strange just happened.

  ***

  “Do you want to go get dinner with me tonight?”

  I press the phone harder against my ear. Surely I heard him wrong.

  Carsen invited me to dinner. In public. And only a day after our “talk”.

  “Yes?”

  “Is that a question or an answer?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m waiting with bated breath for that explanation,” he deadpans after a few moments of silence.

  “Why now?”

  “Because I’m hungry.”

  “Carsen…”

  He sighs, and I’m certain he’s running his free hand through his hair in annoyance. “Because I want to, okay? I want to know I can do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Go out. Did you know it’s been almost two years since I’ve gone anywhere other than Down the Lane, Vern’s, or my house? I don’t even grocery shop anymore. Nate and Blake do it. How fucking sad is that?”

  “Are you only now realizing it?”

  “No. Yes.” He pauses. “No, but I’m just now feeling like I need to do something about it, need to get out of this shell I’ve been living in.”

  “And you want me to assist you? Why?”

  “Because you have a great ass?”

  “Why is that a question? You weren’t complaining last night when you couldn’t keep your hands off it.”

  “It is a great ass. Now go to dinner with me.”

  “Fine, but wherever we go, they better have nacho cheese sauce.”

  I hang up to the sound of him sputtering in laughter.

  My phone dings with a text almost instantly.

  Carsen: Want to know what time I’m picking you up for dinner?

  Shit. That would be good info, especially since I look a wreck right now. My hair hasn’t been combed all day and I’ve hardly left my bed. The only semi-adulting worthy thing I did was manage to pull on a pair of leggings this morning after my shower.

  Me: Shoot.

  Bubbles float across the screen, but a message doesn’t ever come through, not even after a solid minute of me staring at it.

  The doorbell rings.

  My heart falls to the floor.

  “Elliott!” Fish calls. “It’s for you!”

  Shit! “Shit!”

  “Language!” I hear my mom shout.

  “Elliott!” my brother calls again.

  “I need a few minutes!”

  I shoot off a quick text to Carsen.

  Me: You dirty, dirty knob gobbler!

  He responds immediately.

  Carsen: Don’t take all day, princess.

  Rushing around my room, I manage to strip off my old, ratty Backstreet Boys t-shirt and pull a semi-fancy flowing midnight blue quarter-sleeve top out of the closet. I slide it on and rush down the hall to the bathroom. After a quick brush of my teeth and a swab of mascara, I swiftly throw my blonde hair into a loose braid that hangs over my right shoulder. I take one last glance in the mirror and decide it’s as good as I’m going to get.

  I jog back to my room, grab my purse and phone, and then slide my feet into a pair of lace ballet flats.

  A mixture of voices cause me to pause at the top of the stairs.

  “You look a lot like your mother.”

  “You knew her?”

  “Barely,” my mom answers. “We talked a few times in the early years, but then when she and Nigel drifted apart, whatever sort of acquaintanceship we had did too.”

  “She followed your family through the years. She’d always tell me how beautiful you were and that it was where Elliott acquired her good looks, because they weren’t coming from Gelly. She wasn’t wrong.”

  “Hey! I’m handsome as hell!” my dad argues.

  My mom laughs. “I think in another life, Faith and I would have been good friends.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment, ma’am.”

  I need to move before I start crying, so I hastily—and loudly—make my way down the stairs.

  “You ready?”

  Carsen turns to me. I don’t miss the appreciative onceover he gives me, or the way he hurriedly tells my parents goodnight and ushers me out the door.

  Once our feet hit the sidewalk, Carsen grabs my arm and nearly drags me to the tree out of eyesight of the front windows on my house.

  He pushes me up against it and leans in close, runs his nose against my cheek and inhales sharply. His stubble drags across my skin and I break out in goose bumps. His entire body is pressed against mine at this point and my insides are starting to turn to liquid—or is that my panties? Either way, I’m beyond turned on right now.

  “You look so. Fucking. Hot.”

  “I got dressed in like five minutes.”

  “And you still look this damn good? I’m going to surprise you with dates more often.”

  “More often, huh? Is that you asking me to go steady?”

  Carsen pulls back and his eyes light up, although I’m not sure what with. Is it trepidation? Excitement? I can’t tell the difference when it comes to him.

  Instead of answering me, he smashes his lips against mine in a crushing kiss. I open to him almost instantly and he sweeps his tongue inside, exploring my mouth in a way that makes me moan and writhe against him. He crowds me against the tree even more and I can feel his hard length between us. My hands itch to reach out and grasp him, to feel him.

  “God I wish you could touch me right now,” he says as if reading my mind.

  I do too.

  Instead, I reach down and rub him through his pants. He pushes into my touch and kisses me harder. His knee comes between my legs and I begin to ride his thigh in sync with what I’m doing to him, and holy hell does it feel amazing. We’ve done this so many times now, and I swear it gets better every time.

  Carsen grips my hair and I let out a loud moan.

  A car door slams in the distance and we instantly break apart. He rushes to shove his dick down, trying to hide his erection while I smooth out my shirt and hair.

  He rakes his hands through his hair and takes two steps back from me.

  “Was it the sex eyes?�
�� I joke to break the tension.

  “No. Yes. No. It’s fucking everything.” He rushes me again and braces his arms on either side of my head. “You’re dangerous for me.”

  “And you’re dangerous for me, right? That’s what you’re going to say next?”

  “Yes.” His answer is absolute, and I know there’s no fighting him on this.

  He continuously talks about the darkness residing inside him, the danger that lurks beneath his surface, yet all I’ve witnessed since his fight with Jase is him taking control of his demons and wrestling them away. He’s working through some serious shit and he’s winning.

  I only wish he’d see that.

  “I’m not scared of you, Carsen.”

  “You will be,” he promises.

  Ignoring his words, I give him a quick peck on the lips. “Are you ready for our dinner date now that you’ve ravaged me perilously close to my parents’ house and have gotten tree bark all over my shirt?”

  Like that, my Carsen is back with a sexy, flirty smirk. “I suppose we can go now.”

  He pulls me off the tree and helps dust my back off, spending an inordinate amount of time on my ass.

  “I think we’re good.”

  “Not yet.” He gives it a few more pats. “Now we’re good.”

  He holds his hand out and I quirk a brow. “Really? You want to hold hands now? In public?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I want to hold hands with you.”

  “In…”

  He sighs impatiently and takes a deep breath before shouting. “I want to hold Elliott Mathers’ hand in public!”

  I chuckle and pat his chest as I brush past him. “Cool story, bro.”

  It takes a few moments for it to settle, but I finally hear him laugh lightly and jog to catch up to me, where he then laces our fingers together.

  11

  Carsen

  “I’ll have water, please.”

  “I’ll have a Coke with two cherries, please.”

  The waiter nods and scurries away to fill our drink orders.

  Usually we’re full of conversation, but tonight we’re sitting here in an awkward silence. Part of that is my fault. I’m on edge, nervous as fuck right now. I’m certain I’ll find a way to screw this up, and I don’t want to, but I can’t help the dread lodging itself in my stomach.

  “This is nice,” Elliott remarks.

  I glance around the local establishment, noting the older wooden tables with clean, new cloths over them and the slightly worn vinyl of the booths. “It’s not bad.”

  “Have you been here before?”

  “Not for a long time. It’s been at least five years.”

  “Was the food good?”

  “It’s pizza. Pizza is always good.”

  “That is almost always true. There is such a thing as bad pizza.”

  “Well I hope it’s not bad. I figured this was a safe spot since I know you love pizza.”

  She pins me with a hard stare. “They better have nacho cheese.”

  I wink. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  She mutters something about my balls as she picks up the menu and begins to peruse it.

  “You’re buying, right? Good. How about an extra-large pepperoni and black olives, an order of cheesy bread, and some cheese sticks?” She sets the menu down with a smirk. “For me, of course. Then whatever you’ll have.”

  “Oh, so you think—” I begin my smartass reply but my words die out when I notice how white Elliott goes.

  Her gaze is focused behind me, and I turn to see where she’s staring off to.

  It’s Jase.

  My blood begins to boil at the sight of him.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” he drawls.

  “Jase,” Elliott says curtly.

  I know for a fact they haven’t spoken since the night he came into Down the Lane drunk and mouthing off. We’ve talked about how toxic their relationship was becoming many times over the past month or so, and Elliott has vehemently declared she wants nothing to do with Jase so long as he is going to continue being the ass he has been lately.

  “We’ll take that table right there,” Jase says to a random waitress running around. He’s pointing to the table directly across from ours.

  I turn to Elliott. “Do you want to leave? We can.”

  “No.” She shakes her head hard. “No way in hell I’m letting him ruin my delicious extra-large pizza.”

  I grin at her determination. “I wouldn’t dare let him do so either. Ignore him?”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  Jase and the three guys and girl he’s with all sit down, shooting daggers our way.

  We ignore them all.

  “Where are the boyfriends tonight?”

  “You know, I think you’re starting to become more of their third wheel than I am. Are you trying to replace me?”

  “Why? Are you replaceable?”

  “With those two?” I scoff. “I have the equipment they require. Keep dreamin’.”

  “I’ll just have to win their affections with my spunk.”

  “I think my spunk would win them over more.”

  She covers her face with her hands and shakes with laughter. “I should have known that was coming.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Elliott’s quick and reaches out to grab a sugar packet before I can understand what she’s doing. She launches it directly at my face, hitting me square between the eyes.

  “Ass.”

  The table next door mocks us, but we ignore it.

  “It’s their date night,” I answer her earlier question. “I have no idea what they’re doing though. Knowing those two horndogs, probably sitting at home, downloading all the porn.”

  “All of it?” she faux-whispers.

  I lean across the table, matching her playfulness, and say, “All of it.”

  She fakes a shocked gasp and we laugh some more.

  I’m still leaning across the table, but I lower my words so Jase and his dickhead friends can’t hear me. “This is nice. I’m… It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

  “Thank you—I think.” Her tone is equally as quiet.

  “Nothing against you. It’s”—I wave a hand—“all of this. I thought it’d be worse.”

  Her eyes quickly zoom to the table next to ours and then back to mine. “Worse than that?”

  “Honestly? Yeah. I’m surprised other people aren’t staring and whispering amongst themselves.”

  “I’m glad they’re not.”

  “Me too.”

  I’m suddenly overwhelmed with joy, ecstatic I decided to ask her out to dinner. After our chat at work yesterday, I realized that maybe—despite the immense doubt I have—something could work between us. This weight, this darkness that’s been crushing me for years now seems to lighten when Elliott’s around. And, yeah, it’s a dick move to use her as a crutch, but do you blame me? I feel genuinely happy around her. I’d forgotten what that feels like, how it makes me light up inside. How it takes away the filter I see everything through and brightens up the world, making everything more vivid.

  I’m tired of the dark, gray world I’m living in. I want more color, more hope, more life.

  I want more of Elliott.

  I just have to rein in the shadows that threaten.

  The waiter interrupts our moment and arrives with our drinks. We place our order: an extra-large pepperoni and black olive pizza, a side of cheesy bread, and cheese sticks—oh, and a side of nacho cheese sauce.

  “I called ahead,” I tell Elliott when she gives me a surprised look. “For your sauce. I made sure they had it.”

  She brings a hand up to her chest and murmurs, “Swoon.”

  “A swoon? Wow. I’ll call ahead for all of our dates from now on.”

  “Another ‘more dates’ comment,” she singsongs. “This must be serious.”

  Jase says something we can’t quite make out but it causes hi
s friends to break out in hysterics. I can see from my peripheral they’re all looking our way.

  “When did you call them? You asked me to dinner like an hour ago.”

  “I was already outside your house when I texted you. Funnily enough, I was resting against our tree.”

  “Fucking creep.”

  This time Jase’s voice is loud and clear.

  I clench my jaw and will myself to control my breathing, which is steadily increasing.

  Ignore him, Carsen. He’s not worth it. Don’t ruin this night.

  “And then when you didn’t answer my text, you were on the phone, right?”

  “Guilty.”

  “That’s sweet, in an asshole-ish sort of way.”

  “I was hoping for sweet, no asshole.”

  She squeezes her thumb and forefinger together. “This close, Wheatley. This close.”

  The girl sitting at Jase’s table gasps and announces, “That’s the guy who murdered his mom! Why is she with him? He’s going to kill her too!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and my leg starts to bounce as tension crawls over my body. I curl my hands into fists. I can’t help it. I wish I could, but I’m so jazzed up with anger right now, there’s no stopping it.

  A cool hand comes to rest on my arm and I know it’s Elliott.

  “Carsen, it’s not worth it.”

  It is too.

  “Ignore them.”

  It’s too fucking hard.

  “I’m right here.”

  “Yeah, like a lamb at the slaughter,” Jase sneers.

  I lose it.

  The table between us rattles and our drinks go flying. I’m out of my seat and can feel the warmth of his blood on my hands before I know it. Jase is down on the ground, attempting to swing back at me. His friends scatter out of the way like a bunch of pansy ass pricks, and the girl he was with is screaming—or is that me?

  Small hands land on my back and I can hear my name being shouted, but I don’t fucking care.

  “I didn’t kill her!” I scream. “I didn’t lay a fucking hand on her, you little shit-faced asshole! He did it and I am not him!”

  I feel the hands again and I violently shake them off.

  Then I hear the crack and a scream.