I ended up taping the photo back to the drawer. Don’t get me wrong; I wanted to keep it, but at the same time, I don’t want to upset my mom when she notices it’s missing. Besides, I’m not even positive the man in the photo is my father. Only, I sort of am. I can feel it in my soul. Plus, my mom was pregnant in the photo.
The photo haunts my mind for most of the day. But my thoughts get briefly distracted as I’m loading up the cleaning supplies in the car to head home when Carter sends me a photo of a girl sitting near a massive oak tree. She has a book in her hand, her head is tipped down, and leaves are falling to the ground around her. Her face is shadowed by her hair so I can’t tell who the girl is, but the area looks familiar. The tree, too.
Then it clicks. The girl is at the park, reading under a tree I often sit under.
Confused as to why he sent the photo to me, I reply by sending an image of a girl skipping in a field with questions marks above her head.
Moments later, a photo of a kitten surrounded by hearts pops into the thread.
I send back a random photo of a guy running into a wall.
He responds with a guy tilting his head to the side, his brows furrowed as someone bangs a book against his head.
I reply with a cross-eyed cat and dog DJing at a party. Then add one of a dude shaking his booty.
Carter: All right, you win. You’re the weirdest image texter ever.
Me: Hey, you’re the one who started it.
Carter: For your information, that first photo was actually a picture I took.
I scroll back to the photo and look it over again.
I’m surprised. It’s really good. The shadowing is just right. And the way he captured the girl, so at peace, makes me feel relaxed, too.
Me: You take photos?
Carter: It was for a photography class.
Me: You take photography?
How did I not know this? With how much I stare at him, I should have.
Carter: It was an extracurricular class. Not too many people knew I took it. My parents would probably flip out if they knew.
Me: Really? Because I’m pretty sure El’s taken photography classes.
Carter: El and I have different rules. They’re stricter with me.
Funny how I never noticed that, but when I think about, I can see it. Carter is supposed to be taking over the business, so he spends a lot of time in the office with his father. He also gets in trouble whenever he throws parties, yet El never does. Carter gets lectured about being presentable and getting good grades, while El has frequently griped about how much her parents ignore her.
Me: Sometimes parents are strict with their kids because they love them.
Carter: That sounds like some psych 101.
Me: My mom’s always throwing those sorts of remarks at me.
Carter: Has she taken psychology?
Me: Yeah, she did. She’s going to school right now to get her business degree.
Carter: Really? Your mom’s a business major?
His shock makes my jaw tick as I recall the remark he made the other day about my mom. I suddenly feel like I need to defend my mom’s honor or something.
Me: She’s part-owner of the cleaning company and thought it’d be helpful. She’s really smart. Smart enough to be a single mom, take care of me, go to school, and work. And she never complains to me about it, even though I know she must be exhausted. She’s actually pretty badass.
Carter: She sure sounds like it.
Me: She is.
Carter: I’m glad. It must be nice to have someone care about you that much.
Me: Yeah.
I pause, rereading his message, feeling as though the words carry an underlying meaning, as if he doesn’t believe anyone cares about him. That can’t be right. Not when he has his own fan club and basically has everything he’s ever wanted since the day he was born.
Carter: So, did you figure it out yet?
What?
Me: Figure out what?
Carter: Who the person is in the first photo I sent you.
I scroll back to the photo. At first, I’m lost. Am I supposed to know the girl? I can’t even see her face. Then a memory sparkles in the back of my mind and …
“Holy shit,” I whisper, leaning against the trunk of the car.
The girl in the photo is me, and the photo was taken quite a few months ago, before this whole “play Carter” plan was put into motion.
Me: You took a photo of me?
Carter: Not in a creepy way, I promise. I was at the park, working on my project, and I saw you sitting there. You looked so peaceful and gorgeous, and the angles and shadows were casting so perfectly over you, so I snapped a few photos. That one turned out really good, so I submitted it for my final project. I got an A, btw, so thanks. ;)
I can’t help but smile. I can only imagine what I look like right now. All goofy and silly and swoony. Fortunately, no one’s around to see it.
Me: Why? I didn’t really do anything.
Carter: Um, yeah, you were the focal point of the photo.
I drag my fingers through my hair and shake my head, utterly lost. He took a photo of me. I was the focal point of his photo. I looked peaceful and gorgeous. What the hell is happening right now? This can’t be real, right?
The photo sure is real, though.
“You ready to go?” My mom exits the house, towing a vacuum behind her.
I rip my attention off my phone and nod. “Yep.”
She eyeballs me funnily. “Whatcha doing?”
I shrug. “Just waiting for you.”
Her gaze descends to my phone. “Who’re you texting?”
I shrug again. “No one.”
She grins as she hikes down the driveway toward the car, the vacuum wheels clanking against the cement. “Well, no one sure knows how to make you look flushed.”
I place my palm to my cheek. “It’s from the sun.”
She pops open the trunk. “Sure it is.”
“It is,” I insist, ducking into the car, mostly to hide my flushed cheeks.
As I’m buckling my seatbelt, another message pings through.
Carter: I didn’t scare you away, did I?
Sort of. But since I’m supposed to be trying to seduce him, I go another route.
Me: No. Sorry, I’m still at work and trying to clean up so I can go home.
Carter: All right, I’ll let you go, then. See you tonight.
Me: Okay.
I blow out a trapped breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. God, that conversation was intense. Too intense. So intense I almost forgot none of this is real.
It makes me worry what the hell is going to happen while we’re out on this date. And if I’ll be able to keep my head in the game.
16
Ensley
“You’re awfully quiet today,” my mom says as she drives us home after a long, exhausting day of work.
“I’m just tired,” I lie, not really feeling tired.
I’m wired. Wired about the photo. Wired about my date. Wired about so many things that my mind feels like it’s spinning out of control.
She turns into our apartment complex. “Then how about we order in and stream a video? That sounds relaxing, right?”
“Actually, I can’t.” I pick at my fingernail, unsure how to approach the matter at hand. “I have plans tonight.”
“Oh?” She steers the car into a parking space. “Is El coming over, or are you going over there?”
I unfasten my seatbelt and reach for the door. “Actually, I’m going out on a date.” Then I dive out of the car and haul ass toward the apartment.
“You have a date!” She chases after me, her sneakers hammering against the concrete. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I rush up the stairway, taking the stairs two at a time. “I did tell you … just barely.”
“This isn’t last minute kind of news. I feel like you should’ve told me sooner.”
“Maybe I just got asked out
.” I reach the top of the stairs, out of breath.
Man, I’m out of shape.
She arrives a moment later, equally out of breath. “Did you?”
“Umm …” I hate lying to her. “No …”
She grasps the railing as she wipes sweat from her brow. “So when did you?”
“A few days ago.” I dig the house keys out of my pocket.
She sidesteps, blocking my way as I move toward the door. “Tell me who the mystery guy is,” she demands, but smiles excitedly. “I can’t believe you’re going out on your first date. This is so exciting.”
She may be gushing now, but that’s going to change when I tell her who the mystery guy is. I wonder how much she’d flip out if I told her I was only going on the date because I’m helping Elodie get back at her brother.
“Yeah, it is,” I agree, sounding completely opposite.
She frowns. “Why don’t you seem more happy?”
I shrug, fiddling with the key. “Because I know you’re going to get upset when you hear who I’m going on the date with.”
“I highly doubt that. I’m just happy you’re finally going on a date.”
“You might want to wait until you hear who it is before you start making bold statements like that.”
“Well, tell me, then.” She motions for me to get a move on.
I restlessly drag the key up and down my palm as I mumble, “Carter Everlend.”
Her eyes pop wide. “Elodie’s brother?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” I wait for her to lecture me, chew me out.
My mom falls into a moment of quiet contemplation, and then a small smile touches her lips. “That’s not too bad for your first date.”
I blink at her. “What? That’s seriously all you have to say?”
She smiles as she retrieves her keys from her purse. “Carter seems like a decent guy, at least from what I’ve seen.” She unlocks the door and walks into the apartment, leaving me out on the porch with my jaw hanging to my knees.
But then I snap out of my stupor and rush after her.
“Wait? Are we talking about the same person? Carter is Elodie’s brother. You know that, right?”
“I do.” She tosses the keys onto the kitchen counter. “And from what I’ve seen, he seems like a gentleman.” She opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. “He’s always held the door open whenever I’m going into the house. He’s helped me carry in my supplies a bunch of times, too. And unlike his mother and father, he’s never talked down to me.”
All I can do is stare at her in shock. “Are you sure you’re thinking of the right guy?”
She nods, unscrewing the cap off the water bottle. “I’ve been cleaning the Everlend’s place for almost five years now, so unless they have another blond-haired, eighteen-year-old son, I know who Carter is.” She lifts the bottle to her lips to take a drink, then pauses. “Why do you seem so surprised by what I’m telling you? If you’re going on a date with him, you should think he’s a nice guy.”
I cross my fingers I don’t look as guilty as I feel. “I do think he’s a good guy.” God, I suck. “I just didn’t realize he did all that stuff for you.”
And if he did, why did he make that remark about the cleaning lady needing to clean up the oil in the garage. He was so rude then, so none of what my mom is saying makes sense.
“He’s a really sweet guy.” She takes a sip of her water then sets the bottle down on the counter. “So, what are you wearing tonight? And where is he taking you? I want all the details!” She claps her hands together, gushing again.
Me, I’m left feeling lost. Like I’m falling.
Falling into the unknown world.
And soon, I’m going to crash.
17
Ensley
The ding of the doorbell causes vomit to burn at the back of my throat.
Not a good start at all.
Then my hands begin to sweat and my pulse hammers like a unicorn on crack. I want to lock myself in the closet. No, scratch that. I want to puke, and then lock myself in the closet.
“Ens, Carter’s here,” my mom announces, sending my pulse spiking even more.
“Okay!” I shout down the hallway then rush over to the mirror on my bedroom wall.
Not to check my reflection—I look how I always do and don’t need to double-check that I somehow miraculously changed. I’m just making sure I haven’t done anything stupid, like forgot to put on shoes or tucked my dress into my underwear.
Once I’m satisfied that my feet are covered and my ass isn’t on display, I head out into the living room.
Carter is standing in the small area near the door, smiling at something my mom is saying. He’s wearing a nice pair of jeans, boots, and a black, short-sleeved shirt that fits him perfectly. Strangely, he has leather bands on his wrists, which isn’t the normal, preppy look he usually sports. His blond hair is also styled a little bit messy tonight, but in an intentional way, and the scruff on his chin has grown a little bit more. His whole get-up is strange and strays from his usual style. Still, he looks good. Too good, since this is supposed to be a fake date that I’m controlling.
One thing still remains the same. That smile that he so frequently rocks. The confident smile. The one that makes my stomach flutter and churn at the same time. He’s doing it right now, and I can’t stand it, because I like it.
I like it a lot.
Instead of announcing my entry, I linger near the hallway, attempting to chill out my insane lunatic of a heart.
Carter quickly notices me there, and his eyes sweep up and down my body.
Suddenly, that smile fades.
Lovely. Did I do something stupid, like overdress? Wait! I didn’t double-check to make sure I didn’t put any of my clothes on inside out.
“You look …” He massages the back of his neck with an undecided expression. “Good.”
“Um, thanks?” I say more as a question because he seems confused and I don’t get why. Or maybe I do and I just don’t want to admit it.
He’s having second thoughts about this whole date thing, isn’t he? He probably realized he’s about to go out with a girl who looks like a guy.
My mood nosedives. But hey, on a positive note, at least I no longer have to be a big old liar, liar, pants on fire.
My mom glances from me to Carter, a huge smile possessing her face. She gives me a knowing look, like she’s trying to imply something. And in that moment, I question my mom’s sanity. Can’t she see how much Carter doesn’t want to be here? Why is she smiling!
Crazy woman.
“So, are you ready to go?” Carter focuses on my eyes, and he smiles. Just like that.
It’s not the smile that drives all the girls crazy, though. It’s an apprehensive smile, as if he’s suddenly lost some of his confidence. Which makes no sense and goes against everything I thought I knew about him, which leaves me apprehensive. Yep, it’s a vicious cycle.
Somehow through the sea of confusion sloshing around in my brain, I do manage to nod. “Yep, I’m ready.” Then I smile. It’s totally fake, and I’m sure I look insane, but I give myself mad props for being able to do it while I’m fluttering with anxiousness.
“You guys have fun,” my mom says as we’re walking out. Then she takes out her phone and snaps a photo of us, like I’m going to freakin’ prom.
“Don’t post that,” I warn, shooting her a warning look.
“Okay,” she says through a smile.
Yeah, she’s totally going to post it.
I don’t have time to argue with her, though, so I let her be and follow Carter out of the apartment. But she catches me by the elbow before I walk out completely.
“Be careful tonight, okay,” my mom says.
I nod and she offers me a smile before letting me go. When I step up to Carter’s side, we start down the stairway.
The sun is starting to set behind the shallow hills that surround the town, the sky grey and lightly dusted with stars. The a
ir is the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too chilly. It’d be the perfect night except 1). I’m on a fake date, trying to play a player. 2). My palms are moist from nervous sweat, so yeah, yuck. And 3). Carter and I haven’t said a damn word to each other and we’re almost to his car.
Fan-freakin’-tastic. I wonder if the night is going to turn into one big awkward fest.
Then he finally speaks.
“You look gorgeous,” he tells me as we’re heading toward the carport.
I startle, not only because of the sudden crack in the awkward silence, but because he lightly traces his finger along the inside of my wrist. And like the spaz I am, I jump from the contact.
Yep, great start indeed.
“Thanks,” I mutter, coming to a stop in front of his car.
“I mean it.” He digs his keys out from his pocket. “You look gorgeous. I mean, you always do, but …” He gives me a once-over, and then blinks a few times. “But tonight, you look extra gorgeous.”
Not knowing what else to say, I sputter the first thing that pops into my mind. “Does that mean I get extra bonus points?”
Face palm.
He grins, no longer seeming nervous. “What sort of extra bonus points?”
I shrug, feeling like an idiot. “I don’t know. Just bonus points I can use for anything.”
“Anything?” He muses, rubbing his scruffy jawline. “That sounds sort of risky for me.”
“I wouldn’t use them for anything bad.” I slowly start to break through my awkwardness, even managing a tiny smile.
“Well, that’s a disappointment,” he teases with a grin and a wink.
It takes me a moment to get past the wink and fully become aware of what he said. Then my cheeks flush. Luckily, it’s dark enough that he can’t see it.
A smile lights up his face. “You’re so damn cute when you blush.”
Okay, maybe not.
“I’m not blushing,” I say, attempting to cover up my loserville status.
“Liar,” he teases. “You’re blushing, and it’s cute, so stop arguing, okay?” He makes his way to the passenger side of the car. “Honestly, I’ve never been around a girl who blushes so much. Most of them just giggle. A lot. It can get so annoying.” He unlocks the car and opens the door. Then he stands there, holding the door open for me, backing up what my mom said about him being a gentleman.
The Unexpcted Complications of Revenge Page 10
