by Zara Rivas
"Do you want me to bring some ice cream to you? We could hang out in your room, with no boys."
I bite my lip, feeling incredibly guilty that I was lying to her. "I should try to hit the books a bit more."
"Okay, good luck with that! Maybe we can do something tomorrow," she said, and I knew by her tone, she was buying it, which made me feel worse.
"That sounds good," I told her.
Hopefully, by then, I would be back to normal. And that I would have the way his kisses felt out of my head.
I don't know how to do my laundry.
It's embarrassing but true. My mom always wanted to do everything she could for us; she would probably try cutting up our meat if she thought we would let her. Growing up with that type of mom meant I would throw my clothes into a hamper, and then they would appear, folded neatly, in my drawers.
I had done laundry only one time on my own, and that was when I bought my first pair of skimpy underwear. I thought maybe if I washed them on my own, I could keep mom from finding out about them. That was my first mistake because my mom always knew everything, especially the things you didn't want her to know about.
My second mistake was adding this stuff called Magic Bubbles, which I had only done because it smelled amazing. And as for the third and final mistake? Not reading the directions on the box, because I added way too much, and it overflowed, causing our laundry room floor to look like a bubble bath. Emily, Charlotte, and I spent hours trying to scoop up the bubbles and mop up the floor, only to have mom find out anyway. She was more upset that I nearly ruined the floor than she was that I bought some sexy underwear.
I wasn't looking forward to doing laundry. I also wasn't expecting to have to do a load within a week of moving in. I thought for sure I could stretch it out a few weeks, then maybe convince Charlotte to do it for me or throw everything in bags to bring home for my mom to do while we were back on a visit. That was before living with Ashley, who had happily made my wardrobe her own, even if the clothes didn't fit just right. It was ironic since I had spent most of high school trying to get Charlotte to wear my clothes, and now that I was living with someone that did, I was glad she rarely took me up on that offer.
I packed my dirty clothes into my white laundry basket, then sat the detergent on top before walking what felt like a mile to the laundry room. I remember mom saying a few times that doing laundry was strangely therapeutic, and I hoped she was right about that. I still couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that Carter and I had shared a very public, very passionate kissing session. Not to mention that I had spent the entire night lying awake in my bed, not thinking about the fact he had kissed me in the first place but thinking about how it felt when it happened. Like everything was standing still while moving at full speed. Sound confusing? Welcome to my world.
It would be a lie if I said I thought of Carter like a brother- it was pretty impossible not to notice that he was handsome. And I could see how his personality, which was a mixture of charm, sarcasm, and mystery, was a turn on, but I didn't think of him that way. Well, besides when I was thirteen and had a crush on him for about ten seconds. We spent most of our time bickering and getting on each other's nerves, which now that I think about it, he seems to enjoy doing.
I walked into the mustard yellow laundry room, which smelled liked lavender soap and placed my basket down on top of a metal cart. I dragged the cart in front of the line of washers, then glanced over the directions to the detergent, twice, to be sure. This didn't seem like it was going to be so bad.
When I glanced up, Carter was standing in the entranceway. His brown hair was disheveled, as usual, and with the number of wrinkles in his clothes, either he was wearing the outfit he slept in, or he had just picked the clothes up off the floor and put them on. I wouldn't put either of those options past him.
Our eyes met, and we just stood still, looking at each other, as if neither of us wanted to be the first to talk. I saw him shift his weight from one foot to another, and it hit me that he was nervous. For some reason, that seemed to give me the courage to say something.
"You made a mistake," I said, as he stared at me, his expression blank. "You're supposed to take off your clothes before you go to wash them." I dropped my gaze, looking over his outfit again, before meeting his eyes again.
He grinned as he took a step towards me, raising an eyebrow at me. "Are you suggesting I should take off my clothes?" His voice was low and gravelly, and it made me blush, even though I wasn't a person that blushed often.
"No! That's not what I meant," I told him, using all of my energy to block out that mental picture.
I started shoving my clothes into the washer as he continued to walk closer to me, and I made it a point not to look in his direction, not even when he was standing right next to me.
"I wouldn't do that," he told me.
"I'm sorry?" I asked, finally looking over at him, and into his hazel eyes.
He reached into my washing machine, pulling out my brand new, deep red Bexley sweatshirt. "You have whites in there… this will turn them all pink," he told me with a small smile.
"Oh, right. Thanks," I told him, trying to sound as if I just hadn't seen the sweatshirt, and not that I didn't know what I was doing. Or that he was making me nervous.
"I think you owe me dinner now."
I narrowed my eyebrows at him. "I owe you dinner?"
He nodded seriously. "To save your clothes. It was a dangerous job, but somebody had to do it," his expression slipped, and now he was grinning.
I laughed, then shrugged at him as if it wasn't a big deal. "I wouldn't mind the pink."
"You can pull off a lot of things, Harper, but I'm not so sure about bubble gum pink."
Our eyes met again, and I felt that intense feeling, the one I had right before he kissed me.
"How did you know I was here, anyway?" I asked, trying to get rid of that feeling before we were making against the washing machine.
He shifted again, and I could tell he was once again nervous. That was something I wasn't used to when it came to Carter. He normally had nerves of steel.
"I was on my way to your room, and I saw you walking down the hall. Since you had your laundry basket, it was pretty easy to figure it out."
"Right," I said, shutting the lid and turning the washer machine on. "So, what did you want?" I asked innocently, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
I knew what he wanted to talk about, but I hoped that if I acted like I didn't, he wouldn't bring it up.
He gave me a look that told me he knew what I was doing. He ran his hand through his hair, and I couldn't help but remember how it felt when his hand was running through my hair. As I took in his gorgeous eyes and those full lips of his, I found myself wondering if I should kiss him. It was a crazy thought, considering I didn't even want to talk about the kiss, yet here I was, debating if I should initiate another one.
Just when I felt myself being pulled towards him, I heard footsteps walking into the room, followed by two male voices laughing. I took a step back from Carter, as if I was suddenly coming to my senses, and focused on the washing machine again. I pulled my cell phone out, setting the timer so I would remember when the load would be done, and begin to walk out.
"You better take this, or it won't be here," Carter told me, grabbing my basket and detergent.
"Thanks," I muttered as we are starting walking down the hall.
He cleared his throat, so I looked over at him. "So, about that dinner…"
The uncertainty in his eyes surprised me, and I found myself regretting turning him down. "I can't-"
"You know I was joking about you are having to treat," he said softly, cutting me off.
We got to my room, and he placed the basket on the floor, then leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair again. That was probably a reason it always looked so messy.
"I have plans with Charlotte," I explained.
He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. He
was certainly throwing me for a loop here, between openly expressing his interest in hanging out, and the lack of insults aimed in my direction.
Suddenly Carter was looking over my shoulder, and right as I went to turn around to see what he was looking at, I heard a male voice behind me.
"Hey, Harper."
I turned around to find Elliot standing there, offering a huge grin. "See, I told you I would remember," he added in.
"I'm impressed," I told him, smiling at him back.
"Seriously?" Carter said, narrowing his eyebrows at me. "Because he remembered your name?"
"Carter!" I scolded, offering Elliot an apologetic smile. "It's a joke we have, don't be…rude," I said, settling of using that word instead of another three-letter one.
Elliot glanced Carter over, clearly sensing some testosterone battle going on. Then his eyes focused back on me. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything."
"It's fine. My friend here just never learned his manners."
Elliot chuckled, and even though I didn't look at Carter, I was pretty sure he was glaring at me. "I'll catch you later then."
I nodded at him. "See you later."
I watched him walk towards his room, then spun around to face Carter. "What is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem," he told me, crossing his arms over his chest.
I rolled my eyes at him. "You were rude- no, you were an ass to him," I corrected myself, using the word I should have the first time.
"How was I an ass? I didn't say a single word to him."
"You're a smart guy, you'll figure it out," I told him, opening the door to my room.
"You're not going to start ignoring me again, are you?" He asked, his voice soft.
I pretended to look surprised at what he said. "I wasn't ignoring you."
He titled his head to the side, giving me that 'you're full of it' look. "You seem to forget that I know you."
"I'm not going to ignore you," I told him, refusing to admit that I had been after our kiss happened.
He nodded, seeming relieved. "Have fun with Charlotte." I could tell there was something else he wanted to say, but instead, he just started walking down the hall.
I reached down to grab the basket off the floor, then thought of something. "Hey, Carter?"
"Yeah?" He turned back around.
"Do…Can I… dry all the clothes together? It won't turn my whites baby blue or any other color of the rainbow, right."
He grinned, shaking his head at me. "Yes, Rapunzel, they can all go in the dryer."
When I walked back in my room, I grabbed my phone, seeing I had a text message from Charlotte, making sure we were still on for later. I texted her back, suggesting instead of staying in, that we should go someplace where we could dance.
Dancing was always a way for me to get out of my head, and I needed a long night of dancing.
"This place is awesome," I told Charlotte as we walked back over to our table, where Noah sat with our glasses of water and purses.
I had asked Charlotte if we could go out dancing, and she certainly didn't disappoint in the place she picked out. There was a live DJ, two dance floors, a lounge area with pool tables, and an outdoor patio. Plus, since it happened to be ladies' night, we got a glow stick necklace and half off drinks, not that I would be able to consume any alcohol, thanks to the neon yellow wrist band I had to wear, announcing to everyone that I was underage.
Charlotte sat down next to Noah, resting her head against his shoulder. He smiled down at her before kissing her on her head.
I tried to ignore how adorably cute they were, so instead, I grabbed my glass of water, taking a long sip. Then I gathered up my hair with one hand, using the other one to fan off my neck. Even though they had the air condition blasting in here, and I was wearing a short, flowy, light pink dress, I was still sweating up a storm. It was partially due to how much we had been dancing, plus how many people were on the dance floor.
I sat down across from Charlotte and sipped on my water, moving my head to the beat of the music.
"So, did you do enough dancing?" Charlotte asked, looking as if she could fall asleep on Noah's shoulder at any minute.
I shook my head. "No way, we are only getting started," I told her, causing her to groan.
"I'm guessing your sister feels differently," Noah said with a laugh.
"Think of it as your cardio for the weekend," I told her.
She took a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "More like my cardio for the week. Not to mention, your shoes are killing my feet. I won't be able to walk tomorrow."
"I'll give you a foot massage later," Noah muttered to her, leaning his head against hers.
She instantly smiled at what he said to her, and I forced myself to look away at what was becoming an intimate moment. I wished that I would be able to find someone as sweet as Noah. I was just stuck with a guy that made it his life mission to get on my nerves, then randomly kiss me as his life depended on it. A guy that-
Was approaching our table.
I could barely believe my eyes when I saw Carter walking towards our table. He had on this black T-shirt that clung to his muscles, his eyes locked on mine. He casually sat down next to me, as if it wasn't out of the blue that he was showing up here. He gave a nod to Noah and a friendly smile to Charlotte.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, moving slightly in his seat.
Late?
I glanced at Charlotte, giving her an accusing look. She must have known what I was thinking because she gave me a sheepish smile. "I invited him." She said it as if it was no big deal.
Which I guess, it wasn't. Or it shouldn't be, at least. It was more common than not for Charlotte to invite Carter along, especially now that Noah went most places with us. She had no clue that it was torture being around him right now. She couldn't possibly know-how whenever he was nearby all I could think about was the kiss I was trying to forget. And that for some reason I was mad at him for doing it in the first place and mad at myself for wanting it to happen again.
"Well, you're a little too late; we were just getting ready to go," I told Carter.
Charlotte gave me a confused look. "Weren't you just trying to convince me to stay?"
"Well yes, but I can see how tired you are," I said evenly, pretending not to notice Carter's gaze burning a hole in my skin.
"Why don't you stay behind with Carter?" Noah suggested, glancing between the two of us, a small smile on his lips.
Did he know about the kiss? He and Carter had become close, and even though they'd never admit it, guys talked just as much as girls did about this kind of things. But, it did seem unlikely. Carter would know that Noah wouldn't want to keep it from Charlotte, and he probably also knew that if she knew, she would freak out about it.
"That would be great," Charlotte said happily, pleased she would be able to leave without disappointing me. "Make sure you take her home, okay, Carter? Don't abound her to hook up with someone."
Carter shot her a look, seeming almost offended. She laughed, shaking her head at him. "Don't pretend like you haven't done that to me a million times."
"I'll get her home."
Charlotte gave him a grateful smile. "Is that okay, Harper?"
"Sure," I told her, because what else could I say?
Noah grabbed her hand, and the two of them quickly walked away. I made a point to watch them leave, then became very aware of how alone we were, even if a large crowd of people surrounded us.
Carter cleared his throat, turning to face me. His bare arm brushed against mine, and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.
"So, do you want to dance?" He gave me this sexy little grin.
Suddenly I felt my palms start to sweat, which wasn't my typical reaction when a guy asked me to dance. "I…need a drink."
He glanced down at the glass in front of me, which was still have full. He looked up at me, narrowing his eyebrows. "You already have a drink."
I grabbed it and gulped it down,
placing the empty cup back down on the tabletop. "Now, I need another drink."
He sighed softly, clearly growing frustrated with me. He stood up off of the chair. "I'll get it for you."
I watched him make his hasty retreat over to the bar, noticing how girls would smile at him as he walked by, then erupt into giggles when he was out of earshot. He didn't seem to pay any attention to them, though, or at least not in an obvious way. Once he made his way over to the bar, he leaned against the countertop, waiting to get noticed by the bartender. Which, considering he just wanted a glass of water, wouldn't be any time soon.
The redhead sitting on the stool next to him leaned over, saying something to him before extending her hand for him to shake. She twirled her long hair around her finger and laughed at whatever he was saying to her, which probably wasn't as funny as she was making it out to be. When he finished talking, the girl raised her slim arm, causing the bartender to rush over to her.
