by Zara Rivas
"Charlotte knew before she enrolled, and I'm pretty sure that Emily already has a plan," he said with a soft laugh as if it was a lighthearted comment.
I knew better, though, and that the pretext of what he was saying is that I should be more like my sisters. I guess it was natural for parents to compare all their children to each other. Unfair but natural.
I knew it was also natural to not know what you want to do with your life when you're eighteen years old, but unfortunately, my parents didn't seem to think that way. Especially when my sister's had a plan already, as my dad worded it. Charlotte was doing pre-law, which dad was already bragging about to everyone at his law firm. Emily was only a junior in high school, but we all knew she was going to do something involving art.
"You should make an appointment with an advisor. They would have tons of material for you to go over," mom suggested, serving Carter his second piece of the pie.
I glanced around the table, wishing they weren't discussing this in front of everyone. At least no one seemed to be paying attention. Emily and Adam were too busy staring at each, Charlotte was on her phone texting with Noah, and Carter was scarfing down pie like he never had it before.
"Good idea," I muttered.
Mom smiled happily. "Good, we are just trying to help and-"
"This pie is delicious, you should give my mom the recipe," Carter cut in, smiling at mom before his eyes met mine.
I had a feeling that Carter might have been paying attention more than he had been letting on.
"Oh honey, we both know even with a recipe your mom wouldn't be able to make this," she told him with a laugh.
I met Carter's eyes again and mouthed thank you to him, which he replied to with a smile.
"So Carter, tell me how your classes are going," dad said to him.
I laughed to myself as Carter started to squirm in his seat. I felt bad that when Carter took the attention off of me, it was inadvertently put on himself, but I knew that dad wouldn't go as hard on him as he would be to us. Plus, Carter was used to being in the hot seat, even with my parents, and he always handled it well. He didn't take anything they said too seriously, never letting comments get under his skin. I wish I could be more like that.
Later that night, after hours of board games and card games, I found myself alone in my room. Mom and dad were in bed for the night, so Emily and Adam had snuck down the basement so they could make out. Charlotte was in her room, most likely talking with Noah on the phone because texting with him all day didn't satisfy their needs to communicate with each other. And Carter? He had been surprisingly keeping his distance, so I had no idea where he was or-
A soft knock on my door caused my heart to skip a beat. Considering what everyone in the house was up to, I knew there was a good probability that Carter would be standing on the other side of the door when I pulled it open.
I took a deep breath as I smoothed down my long hair. Glancing in my full-length mirror, I was suddenly thankful I had opted for pajamas that didn't include any cartoon characters. Then I opened the door, and immediately wished I hadn't.
Carter stood there in a pair of navy pajama bottoms and nothing else. As I took in his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and six-pack abs, my heart was beating so hard against my chest that I wouldn't be surprised if it burst out of my chest. It sounded like a drum going off in my ears. I was pretty sure my face had turned red because it felt like it was on fire. Sure, I had seen Carter without his shirt plenty of times, but the way he was standing here, leaning in my doorway, it felt intimate.
Realizing I was gawking at him, I forced my eyes to travel north, and I noticed his hair was slightly damp, which meant he must have taken a shower. He took a step closer to me, and I could smell his body wash, which was strangely intoxicating.
"If you're done checking me out, can I come in?" He asked with a grin.
"I was not checking you out," I told him, which was probably the biggest lie of my life. Still, I moved out of the way so he could walk into my room, closing the door behind him.
Carter laughed, clearly not buying it either. "Right," he said, looking around my room.
He had been in my room more times than I could remember, but the way he was looking around was like he was in here for the first time.
"You still have this thing?" Carter asked, and I followed his gaze to see this old bean bag chair in the corner of my room.
I got it for my 5th birthday, and I pretty much thought it was the best thing ever. It was light purple, with darker purple butterflies all over it. There used to be glitter on them, but that had worn off a long time ago, and there were now several strips of duck tape over it, tapping off all the holes that happened over the years.
"Man, this chair was awesome," he continued, seeming overly excited to see it.
I laughed at his reaction. "I used to get so mad at you and Charlotte. Every time we would watch a movie, for like three years after I got it, the two of you would push me off of it and sit on it instead."
He laughed as well as he looked back at me. "I'm sorry about that. And trust me, you would not be the one I'd be pushing off if we were sitting on it now."
My face started to blush again, and I wondered where my confidence went. I used to blush around guys hard. I used to be so good around guys, but for some reason around Carter, I turned into a puddle at his feet.
"Hey," he said, pulling the chair out of the corner. "Do you wanna watch a movie with me?"
"Really? Is there even enough room on there for both of us?"
He dropped the chair down in front of my TV, plopping down into it. "It's okay if we touch," he grinned at me.
I shook my head at him, sitting down next to him on the chair. It buckled a bit under both of our weights, and I could only imagine how silly we looked. He turned on whatever movie I had last in the DVD player, and I was surprised at first when he didn't protest about turning it off since it was a girly movie. Then it hit me; he probably didn't care because he was hoping we weren't going actually to watch it.
He placed his hand on my knee, softly moving his fingers against my skin. Warmth spread from the point of contact and gave me a need to touch him. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and I could feel him I smile when I did so. I turned my head up to glance at him, to see if I was right, and found him staring down at me, those gorgeous eyes locking on to mine. And even though he was moving his head down, to meet my lips, it was like he wasn't moving fast enough.
Then, just before his lips were on mine, there was a loud ripping sound, and suddenly we were both on the floor, surrounded by hundreds of tiny Styrofoam balls. I sat up quickly, picking up the bean bag chair, which had split completely open, and burst out laughing. Carter looked over at me, and suddenly he was laughing right along with me.
"You… you have…some…" he said, not able to make a complete sentence over his laughter.
He stood up, grabbing my wrists to pull me up. Then, he started picking some of the Styrofoam balls out of my hair, and I realized what he was trying to tell me. I held my hands over my stomach as I laughed so hard, I was barely making a sound. My stomach muscles were screaming at me to stop, but I couldn't do that as Carter picked them out of my hair.
After a few minutes, the laughing died down, and Carter moved his hands from my hair to my face, rubbing it softly. The intense look in his eyes returned, and I knew what was going to happen next.
"Harper," he muttered before his lips finally met mine.
We were kissing like it had been years since we did it last, and there was an intensity behind it as if this kiss needed to fulfill us for a lifetime. My hands were moving from his hair to his shoulders, to his arms, to his chest, to his stomach, then back up to his hair, and next thing I knew, he was pushing me backward on the bed.
This was the first time we were kissing with a sense of privacy, but that didn't stop us from going at it like we had a time limit. His hand found my hair, and he pulled away slightly, giving me the sweetest sm
ile. I couldn't remember ever seeing him look that happy. Before I had time to think about it, he was kissing me again, and that was all I could focus on.
While we were kissing, it felt like time had stopped, though it had probably been over an hour. His one hand had made it's way up my shirt, and when I was thinking it was getting too intense for us to be able to stop, there was a knock on the door. We both groaned out of frustration; then Carter kissed my nose softly before he rolled off of me.
I waited a second before I made my way over to the door, trying to allow our breathing to return to a normal pace. I pressed my fingers against my lips, which were still numb with tingles, and hoped they didn't look as puffy as they felt. With butterflies in my stomach, I pulled open the door.
"Hey, I was wondering if…" Her voice trailed off as she looked me over, and I realized my hair was probably a mess. Her eyes moved past me, and I cringe as I knew what she was seeing.
A shirtless Carter, with matching messy hair, sitting on my bed, which probably wasn't in the neat, tucked in a manner that it had been before we were rolling around on it. Plus there was the broken chair on the floor and the TV which currently was on the main menu because we had kissed longer than the movie. I guess it was more than an hour.
I bite my lip nervously as her blue eyes filled with amusement, and she gave me a knowingly smile.
"If you wanted to hang out…" she finished, trying to act like she didn't know anything.
Carter cleared his throat, walking across the room. "I should go, you two have fun."
He paused as he walked past me as if he wanted to stop and kiss me, and I felt mixed emotions when he didn't. He ruffled Emily's hair before he walked out, turning to give me one last look.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Carter," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Emily walked in, closing the door behind her and wasted no time before she started to squeal. I held my finger up to my lip, gesturing for her to keep it down.
"I can't believe this!" She said, lowering her voice. "I mean, I can actually, but still, wow."
It was then I knew it was pointless to try to make something up. "You have to keep this a secret," I told her.
"Why?" She asked, looking confused. "Mom and dad would be thrilled, and I know Carter's parents would feel the-"
"Charlotte."
"Oh," her face fell slightly. "Well yeah, she is going go to freak out."
I sighed and fell back onto the bed. "Freak out isn't the right word."
Emily sat down next to me, smoothing out the blanket. "You know you are going to have to tell her eventually, right?"
"You sound like Carter."
"Well, he's right. And the longer you wait, the worse it will be," she reminded me as if I didn't know.
I nodded. "I don't know how to do it. She has seen us becoming friendlier and closer; I thought maybe I'd let her get used to that idea first."
Emily broke into a grin.
"What is it?" I asked her.
She laughed, a teasing look in her eyes. "Does that mean you guys want this to last?"
I closed my eyes. That was the same question I had been asking myself. "I think he does. I think I do," I told her honestly.
She looked so surprised that I started to laugh. "I know, it's hard to picture Carter settling down and being serious, right?"
She shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's just strange that it's finally happening with you guys. Like, it's about time."
Carter
I couldn't believe it.
I was pacing in front of Harper's bedroom door, waiting for any signs to show that she might be awake, fighting off the urge to press my ear against her door. I'm sure I looked like a complete moron, walking back and forth in front of her door, instead of waiting around in my room like a normal person. Hell, I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to her, or do to her, when she opened her door.
The only thing I knew was that when I woke up, I had this undeniable desire to see her. And I felt this strange aching in my heart as if she was too far away, even though she was right down the hall from me, and that it had been too long since I've seen her, even though my lips were still puffy from all the kissing we had done last night.
"What are you doing?" A voice behind me asked.
I turned around to find Charlotte standing there, running her fingers through her short, wet hair. Her eyes traveled to my bare chest, then back up to my eyes, and I could see the confusion behind hers.
I sighed to myself. "I think I left something in her room last night while we were watching a movie, and I wanted to see if she was up so I could check."
I couldn't believe how the lie just rolled off my tongue. It immediately made me feel guilty. Charlotte was my best friend. I never used to lie to her or keep things from her, and it seemed like lately that I was all I was doing. We had to tell her, and soon, cause I wouldn't be able to take this much longer.
She looked behind me at Harper's door, as if she could see through it. "She's probably still asleep, sorry. The good news is a mom is making some pancakes if you want to come down and eat."
"If I want to come down and eat?"
She laughed. "My mistake. As if you would ever turn down food."
"Especially your mom's pancakes," I reminded her, forcing myself to leave Harper's door and start walking down the hall with Charlotte.
"With the amount of food you consume daily, you should be three hundred pounds," she pointed out to me.
"I know how to burn off those calories."
She looked up at me, rolling her grey eyes. "Carter seriously, TMI."
"No, I don't mean it like that. I mean working out in the gym. You know, lifting weights and running," I rushed out in one breath.
It threw me off how quickly I was explaining myself. It was like I was trying to get on her good side, which I guess I was, considering I wanted to be with her sister.
"Sure, Carter, the gym," she said, holding up her fingers in air quotes.
We walked downstairs and made our way into the kitchen, into the normal morning routine at the Jones' house. I smiled as I watched Laura go back and forth from making pancakes to flipping over bacon, to making homemade orange juice. Yes, homemade orange juice. Jack sat at the table, sipping his coffee, glancing at the bacon he wouldn't be allowed to eat. Emily was already at the table, digging into a pancake because she's a smart girl.
Growing up, there was nothing I loved more than spending mornings here. They were always so busy, so loud, so filled with love and laughter, as corny as that sounds. Not that my house didn't have love or laughter, but it was such a different feeling, probably because there were only three of us. Plus, not that I'd ever tell this to her, the kind of breakfast my mom made were never up to this level.
"Good morning," Charlotte said, kissing her dad on the head before offering her mom a smile. She poured herself some juice, put two pancakes on her plate, and sat down.
"Morning," I echoed, grabbing a plate and held it out to Laura.
She placed three pancakes on there, hesitated for a second, then put two more on there. "They look great," I told her, giving her a grin.
"I wish my girls complimented my food as much as you do," she told me, laughing.
"They just don't appreciate your skills," I replied, walking over to the table.
I put my plate down before plopping down in a chair. I had only taken one bite when Harper walked into the room, causing my heart to slam against in my chest in response. As I took in her short pajama bottoms and her tight tank top, there was nothing that I wanted more than to drag her back up to her bedroom. I didn't even have an appetite anymore.
Yeah, that surprised me as well.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, almost singing the words.
I stared at her, feeling disappointed when her eyes didn't meet mine.
"Can I make you up a plate?" Laura asked her.
Harper was walking around the table to take a seat, and
even though I couldn't see her, I knew she was shaking her head.
"No thanks, I'll just have an-" She started to say, then stopped herself when she saw that I had grabbed an apple and was holding it up for her.
Harper had this weird, but the cute thing for apples, and she often substituted them for meals. I didn't get it; there was no way a piece of fruit could be better than pancakes drenched in warm maple syrup but to each their own.
"Thanks," she said, not bothering to cover up the surprise in her voice as she grabbed the apple from my hand.
Her fingers brushed against mine in the exchange, and my skin burned at the contact. I desperately wanted to look at her to see if she felt the same thing that I did, but I knew that wasn't a good idea. So instead, I focused on the delicious pancakes in front of me, the ones I no longer wanted.
