by Mariano, Sam
“Except I’m not sleeping with you, so that doesn’t make much sense,” he points out. “I’m just doing something nice for you, that’s all. Relax.”
“Or you’re grooming me.”
He glances in my direction before turning his eyes back to the road. “Grooming you?”
I nod my head, clinging to my objections. “Sometimes when a predator has prey in his sights, he’ll give them gifts to soften them up, to endear himself to them or make himself appear harmless, like a friend. But it’s a trick, he’s lulling them into a false sense of safety so they start trusting the predator, that way the predator can take advantage of that trust and pounce on them when he’s ready.”
“You already know I’m not harmless, Zoey. I don’t think a few books and a belly full of chicken wings is gonna make you forget.”
“It won’t,” I assure him.
“All right,” he says, glancing at me as if to see if he’s supposed to care. “Then we’re in agreement. What’s the problem?”
I can’t put my finger on the problem, exactly. The first gift card had me questioning whether or not it was even okay to use it, but now that he’s given me a second one, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to make me feel like I owe him something. That he’s building good will with the sole intent of exploiting it later.
I don’t know if these concerns about him are all in my head, or these are instincts about him I should listen to. I hate how unsure of his motives I am. I hate how this constant swirl of questions about him gives him a permanent place in my mind. Every single day now, I live my life with questions about Carter Mahoney as constant background noise.
“You never answered me yesterday,” I tell him.
“About what?”
“Before Cartwright interrupted, I asked if you had ever…” I pause, trying to figure out how to refer to what he did without making it even more awkward.
He doesn’t make me say it. “Ah, that. No, I haven’t. Never had an opportunity present itself to me the way you did.”
“That’s all that’s stopping you? Lack of opportunity?”
He glances over at me. “That’s not what I said. I said the opportunity with you was too good to pass up. That’s not the same thing.”
“How is that not the exact same thing? Same words, different order.”
“I’m not running around victimizing other girls, if that’s what you’re asking,” he states. “Believe it or not, I have an endless stream of willing women, all a phone call away. I don’t have to try this hard, and I don’t have to force myself on scandalized innocents to get off.”
“Then why do it to me?”
He shrugs, more cavalier than I appreciate. “Variety is the spice of life.”
“Bullshit.” I don’t even know why I’m so confident this is bullshit. He could mean that, I just don’t buy it. He looks over at me wordlessly, so I keep going. “I deserve the truth,” I tell him. “If I don’t get justice, if I don’t get to defend myself, I at least deserve to understand why it happened.”
The last thing I expect is for my words to harden him, but that’s what happens. As decent as he has been throughout lunch, now he turns it off. It appears to be as easy as flipping a switch, like he did at the bookstore when he thought I was judging him, but less fleeting this time.
“You want to know something, Ellis? I’ve got bad news for you, so listen up. Sometimes people do bad shit to you, and they don’t get punished; they get away with it. Hell, sometimes they get rewarded for it. If all this shit with Jake didn’t show you that, if all this shit with me hasn’t shown you that, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that, but we’re at the school now, so I don’t have to. Carter parks aggressively, slamming the car in park and killing the engine. Without another word, he shoves his car door open and climbs out.
I follow him silently, unable to find words to respond. I’m not sure I would anyway. Whatever nerve I just hit, it was a real one, and I’m wary of tangling with him when he’s mad. I shouldn’t even care if he’s mad, or what I said to upset him. I certainly shouldn’t feel compelled to lessen the blow or make peace, but I wasn’t raised to make waves. I’m teaching myself to do that on my own, but every bit of my upbringing tells me the right thing to do, the thing I’m supposed to do, is smooth over the feathers I just ruffled. My mother’s voice echoes in my head.
Don’t be rude, Zoey.
I shake it off. I love my mother, but that’s bad advice. I’m not morally required to be polite to my abuser, and the conversation that pissed Carter off was one where I brought up what he did to me. If it touched a nerve, maybe it should have. It if made him feel badly, maybe it’s because he should.
But then Grace buzzes around in my head, telling me it’s perfectly fine to defend myself, but sometimes the better thing for everyone is to act with love.
There are too many people in my head pushing me in too many different directions. I take a breath and do my best to silence them, focusing on my own inner voice. My own instincts. Not the defensive ones I’ve had to adopt to combat the well-meaning guidance of my mother, but what’s in my own heart. It’s not purely anger or resentment. I would never be interacting with Carter this much if that’s all that was there, and I refuse to entertain the notion that it could possibly be his extreme physical attractiveness that keeps my interest on him. I am not that shallow. It’s not that. It’s something more.
Putting my own ego aside and running through what Carter just said to me, I realize those words may not have been about me at all. Maybe he told me something personal, something real, without even meaning to.
“Carter,” I call out, as he prepares to enter the school.
He pauses with his hand on the door and turns back to look at me, but his expression is still dark and stormy. He actually looks dangerous now, so it’s probably lunacy that pulls me closer to him. Nonetheless, I ride out the crazy and take a few tentative steps closer until I’m maybe a foot away.
“We aren’t what is done to us,” I tell him. “People are going to hurt us, and it’s going to be hard, and sometimes we might never get closure. We might never understand why. But that’s the reason I asked. Maybe deserve isn’t the right word. People don’t get what they deserve, people just get what they get, and then they have to make the best of it.”
He’s still standing there, watching me, but there’s a little less malice painted across his handsome features.
“But I want that closure, and you could give it to me. I don’t need it from Jake, so I don’t know why I need it from you. I guess Jake just feels simple and generic, and I can’t help—I can’t help feeling like there’s more to you.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and I’m struck by the thought that his mind is like an exclusive, secret club I desperately want access to. I want to know who he is, how he thinks. Maybe he’s simpler than I want him to be and I would be disappointed, but one way or the other, I could stop wondering. One way or the other, I would have my answers.
Instead of giving me any, Carter turns back around, pulls open the entry door, and says a little mockingly, “Come on, Ellis. Can’t be late to that next class.”
Chapter 11
Thursday after school, Carter messages me with a link to a trailer for the movie we both wanted to see. I actually am working, so I couldn’t go even if I wanted to, but I don’t bother offering up that explanation. He would probably just counter with a later showing, and I’m not going to a late showing with him. Alone with Carter Mahoney driving me home late at night? I’ll pass.
I also don’t want to tell him I’m at work because then he might pay me a visit, and I don’t want to see him. It’s hard enough to keep him out of my mind, and I already had to see him at school.
Friday as soon as history class lets out, I feel Carter’s eyes on me, so I don’t turn to look at him. He follows me out into the hall, falling into step beside me.
“You ag
ain?” I ask, somewhat lightly.
“Your favorite stalker,” he returns.
“That’s a factual statement,” I mutter.
“Aw, I’m your favorite? I’m gonna tell Parsons. He’s gonna be so jealous.”
I roll my eyes. “I meant the stalker part.”
“Says the girl who stalks my Instagram like a clingy ex,” he volleys back.
Meeting his gaze as we walk, I ask, “Did you need something, Carter?”
Nodding once, he says, “Yes, actually. We have our first away game tonight. You gonna wish me luck?”
Sarcastically chambering my arm, then thrusting it in the air in a faux cheer, I say, “Go Longhorns!”
Carter smirks. “That’s more like it.”
“What, your rally girl isn’t giving you enough attention? I thought she was the best,” I remark innocently.
Carter nods. “It’s all right. I find moderate jealousy cute in a girl. Keep it up.”
“I don’t want you to find me cute,” I mutter.
“Then don’t wear skirts to school,” he says, nodding to the suede button skirt I wore today. “Is that the one I took off you?”
Shooting him a warning look and glancing around to make sure no one heard, I hiss, “No, it is not. That one was corduroy.”
“Looks the same.”
I look down at my skirt, appraising it. “Nuh uh. This one flares more, the other one is straighter.” Shaking my head, I look ahead and keep walking. “This is an absurd conversation to be having. Don’t you have plays to study or cheerleaders to screw? Go away.”
“I was paying you a compliment,” he informs me. Then, just to annoy me, he reaches over and fingers the laced up area around the bust of my black top. “I like this, too. Just a peek of cleavage, all restrained, just like you. You’re a little tease, aren’t you, Zoey?”
Swatting his hand away, I shoot him a dirty look. “Don’t touch me.”
“I touched your shirt, not you.”
“Unless the alternative is tumbling off a cliff, don’t touch me or anything attached to me. If I am about to plummet to my death and only you are around to save me, then you have my permission to reach out and grab me. That is the only scenario—and frankly, if I find myself alone on a cliff with you, you’re probably the one pushing me, so I don’t see much chance of it happening.”
“That’d be a grisly way to go, wouldn’t it?” he remarks, shaking his head. “Free fall then splat.” Missing a beat, he says, “Anyway, while your overwhelming team spirit is a nice pick-me-up, that’s not what I wanted from you. After the game, we’re all getting together for a party at Erika’s house. I want you to come.”
“I think you already invited me to this,” I tell him. “In any case, the answer was ‘no thanks.’”
Nodding once, he says, “Yeah, I remember, I just figured I’d give you a chance to make a better decision.”
“Oh, I’ve made the better decision,” I assure him.
“Do you know where Erika lives?”
“I do, but I have no interest in going to her parties. Not to mention, if the whole team is going to be there, that means Jake would be there, and you must be out of your ever-loving mind if you think I’m going to put myself in that situation. Me at a football party with you, Jake, and Shayne, not to mention the whole rest of the team. I’ve seen Carrie, okay? I know how that story ends.”
“With you exhibiting telekinetic powers?”
I nod my head. “Exactly. And I’ve gotta tell you, pig’s blood is not a good look for me.”
He takes an extra long time looking me over, then says, “I don’t know, you might be able to pull it off.”
“Zero percent chance. That party has trap written all over it. You’d have to literally lobotomize me before you’d get a version of me who would agree to come to your jock get-together. Sorry. It’s a hard pass.”
“I’m not gonna let Jake hurt you, Zoey,” he says, more seriously than I expect. “I don’t think he would anyway. Honestly, I don’t think the guy has the stomach for it. He’s the one who wanted to rough you up, and he couldn’t even finish the job.”
I shoot him a wary look and inch away from him. “You don’t have to say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I’m just saying, Parsons is nothing to be afraid of. All bark, no bite.”
“Every single syllable from your lips right now helps make the case for why I won’t be coming to the party,” I tell him.
“You’re coming to the party,” he says, simply.
“I’m absolutely not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go have lunch. Good luck at the game tonight.”
I go to walk away from him, assuming he’ll let it drop, but Carter surprises me by calling out, “I’m trying to be nice to you, Zoey.”
I keep my gaze trained on the ground, shake my head, and keep walking.
* * *
Thanks to Carter, we get wings for dinner. It’s a little thing, but it puts everyone in a good mood. My mom doesn’t have to cook, Hank has never encountered a chicken wing he didn’t like, and my brother and I certainly aren’t complaining, either.
It’s the little luxuries you don’t think about until you can’t afford them anymore. I never realized I enjoyed the occasional wing night at home until they were no longer an option. Since we got this treat that we used to have when we had just a little more wiggle room in our dinner budget, it seems to make my parents feel like they’re in a better place than they are. Normally, stress is present at the dinner table like a fifth mouth to feed, but tonight everyone is in better spirits.
Mom wants to continue the good night, so we do another thing we haven’t done in a while—break out the board games. I lose all track of time until my phone lights up, alerting me to a message from Carter.
“Party starts in a half hour.”
“Have fun,” I type back.
“You coming?”
“I’ve told you ‘no’ 547 times,” I tell him.
“All right,” he sends back.
I frown, not sure if he’s saying all right, like he gives up, or all right, like I’ll hear from him again in an hour.
Ten minutes later, my phone starts vibrating. It’s Grace’s number flashing across the screen, so I go ahead and answer it.
“What’s up, Grace?”
The volume of her voice, apparently. I flinch, dragging the phone from my ear as she squeals incoherently into the phone.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” I say. “I didn’t catch a word of that.”
“We just got invited to a party at Erika Martin’s house!”
Dread slithers through me. Seriously, Carter? Trying to use Grace to force me into going to that party? “Who invited you?”
“Shauna from church, she’s on the cheer team. She just texted me and said they’re having a party tonight and we should come. Both of us—she invited you, too.”
“She didn’t invite us, Grace. Carter did. He’s been trying to get me to come to this party—” I stop, seeing my mom’s ears perk up at the sound of Carter’s name. Sighing heavily, I cover the mic on my phone and tell her, “Give me a minute.”
“Honey, if you have a social gathering to go to with your friends—”
“I don’t,” I say firmly, walking into the other room and turning my attention back to Grace. “Listen, I know you’re excited, but we can’t go to that party. God knows what they’ll be up to. It’s not going to be like youth group parties. They’ll probably be drinking and hooking up and—it’s not a place for us.”
“But I’ve never been invited to one of their parties before,” she complains. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“You know what? I’m curious what would happen if I reached my hand down that little garbage disposal hole in the sink to retrieve a lost spoon, but not curious enough to try it. Jake is at that party, Grace.”
“I know he is, but Carter will be there, too.”
Eyes widening, I tell her, “That’s the pro
blem! You’re literally describing the problem. They aren’t good guys, Grace. They’re not safe guys. You’re right when you say they’re faster than us. We’re in bumper cars on a metal track, and they’re off-roading somewhere in… whatever the fastest car you can think of is. Resist temptation.”
“This isn’t temptation, it’s just a party,” she insists. “We don’t have to do anything we don’t wanna do. We can still be us and go to a party with the popular kids.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head even though she can’t see me. “It’s not safe. I’m sorry to be a buzz kill, but no. I won’t go there.”
“But I want to,” she complains. “What if we just went for an hour? One hour. What could happen in one hour? We won’t drink or do anything we shouldn’t.”
“No. Carter is trying too hard to get me there, Grace. It’s not because he’s up to anything good. No way. I’m sorry.”
“I think you’re bein’ a little paranoid, Zoey,” Grace snaps. “Not every guy wants to assault you. It’s not even Carter that issued this invite, it was Shauna.”
“Because he messaged me ten minutes ago askin’ me to come and I told him no for the third time. This was just his plan B.”
“You know what? You’re bein’ so self-obsessed right now, you can’t even consider that maybe Shauna likes me, that maybe she wants me to come hang out with them. Maybe it’s not all about you, Zoey.”
I sigh, letting my head fall back against the wall. “That is not how I meant it, Grace. It’s just… you don’t understand because I haven’t told you everything, but please trust me on this. I’m not bein’ self-obsessed. I’m not bein’ paranoid. This has Carter’s fingerprints all over it. I promise you he is the one behind this invitation.”
Her tone is low and disappointed. “Whatever. I’m sorry I wanted us to actually go out and try something new and maybe have some fun with our peers.”
Before I can reply, she hangs up on me. Glaring at my screen, I open up Instagram and go to my messages, telling Carter, “Thanks a lot, asshole. Now Grace is mad at me and I’m STILL not coming to the party.”