by Mariano, Sam
“Remember what I told you about how you don’t always have to fight tooth and nail?” he replies.
“When you were holding me against my will and touching me without my consent in my own driveway? Yes, Carter, I do remember that.”
Since he’s not an idiot, he doesn’t respond to that angrily laid trap.
I’m too mad after all that to even focus on the game, plus now that Carter has come up, my mother is bleeding curiosity and asking me a million questions about the party and why I don’t want to go. It really should be enough that Jake is there. No one should expect me to want to go to a party he’s at—Jake, who cornered me and touched me inappropriately when there wasn’t alcohol involved—but everyone sucks, and I’m so pissed off, I just want to go to bed.
Chapter 12
I’m curled up in bed with my light still on, trying to get lost in a fictional world. I tried to fall asleep and couldn’t, so I’m trying one more time to make myself love The Great Gatsby. I had to read it for English lit last year and do a paper on it, but every chapter felt like a chore. I want to give it another chance this year—another year older and wiser, maybe.
Maybe not, since I did go get wings with stupid Carter Mahoney and his stupid jerkbag face. Ugh, I’m so mad at him.
I shake it off, rolling out my shoulders and trying to refocus on Gatsby, but my mind keeps drifting back to Grace. She’s almost never mad at anyone, so that she’s mad at me makes me feel terrible, but I feel even worse that she thought I was being self-obsessed. She even made me doubt myself for a minute—maybe I am being paranoid. I really don’t think I am, all my experience with Carter considered, but I guess he never actually admitted to being the one who told Shauna to invite Grace. It seems a bit far-fetched to me, but I guess it’s not impossible he wasn’t involved. I guess it’s not impossible that Shauna decided for the first time ever, completely out of the blue, she would invite me and Grace to one of the parties they have all the time.
No, that’s absurd. It was Carter’s doing. I’m not being paranoid, I am right, and everyone else is wrong because they believe the bullshit façade Carter shows them. They all think of him as some golden boy, as the hot, wealthy football star—none of them know what he is. Hell, I don’t even know what he is, but I’ve seen more of a glimpse than Grace has, that’s for sure. Plus, Grace is always looking for the best in everyone, so even if she saw that there was something off about him, she’d probably try to save his ass rather than stay away from him.
God, Grace, I love you, but you need to get your shit together.
My phone vibrates on the bed beside me. It’s like she can hear me thinking about her. Her name flashes across the screen—a video call. A smidgen of relief hits me. It must be bothering her that we ended our last call on such a sour note, too.
I stick my bookmark in Gatsby and put the paperback down, grabbing my phone and sliding my finger across the screen. Grace’s face fills the screen and I offer up a smile.
“Hey.”
I can barely hear her, but she’s smiling. “Zoey!”
Something is majorly off here. Why is it loud? Is that music? “Where are you?”
“At the party! That’s why I’m calling. You were totally wrong. I’m havin’ a blast. You need to come have fun with me.”
My smile falls right off my face and alarm wraps around me like a blanket. “What? You went to the party without me?”
Grace nods, but it’s a loopy nod and she’s only half paying attention to me. Looking just out of sight, she grins and takes a red Solo cup. “Thank you. You’re so nice.”
My heart stalls. “Grace, focus. Are you drinking?”
She shakes her head dismissively. “Not alcohol. It’s just punch. They do have spiked punch, but I don’t drink, so Carter’s been gettin’ me some of the fruit punch out of the—the non-alcoholic bowl. Come have fun with me!”
It feels like my rib cage is shrinking, crushing my lungs and stealing my ability to breathe. “Carter is getting you drinks? Grace, put that cup down. Don’t you dare drink that. Don’t drink anything he touches.” Throwing the blankets back, I spring out of bed and pace the floor, but I’m not sure what to do. If I go pick her up myself, Carter will get me inside that house. If I tell her mom, her mom will see that Grace has been drinking—non-alcoholic punch, my ass—and she’ll have a conniption. Grace will be grounded forever, and then she’ll really be pissed at me.
I could call the police with a noise complaint, but Grace is there, so she’d get in trouble for underage drinking, too. I could take my mom with me to get Grace, but she’s being ridiculous about Carter, so if he comes out, she’s going to switch sides and not be on mine anymore.
As I’m trying to figure out what I should do, I see an arm slide around Grace’s waist. My blood turns to freezing water in my veins as she turns her face toward him, and then I see Carter Mahoney on my phone with his arm around my best friend.
“Hey, Ellis,” he says casually, smirking like he’s already won this round.
“Stop touching her,” I snap. “Did you do anything to her drink? I swear to God, Carter—”
Grace has the absolute gall to shake her finger at me. “Zoey, you shouldn’t swear to God.”
My eyes bug out. “And you shouldn’t take drinks from rapey jocks! But here we are.”
“Stop being such a drag, Ellis. Come party with us,” Carter says.
Grace nods vehemently. All I can focus on is his arm still wrapped around her, his hand resting on her hip. I want to burst through the phone and rip her away from him.
“Don’t drink that, Grace. Not a single sip. I’m coming to pick you up. I am not coming inside the house; I will call you when I’m in the driveway.”
Carter glances at his watch. “You’re probably gonna have to come inside. See, as much fun as we’re having here, Grace wants to talk to me about Jesus. We’re going to go upstairs in a few minutes so we have a little privacy.”
Hot fury hits me with a fear chaser. “Don’t you dare take her upstairs, Carter. Grace, do not go anywhere alone with him.”
Smirking, Carter cocks his head. “I bet she’s a virgin, too. You know how much I like those good girls, princess.”
I’m going to vomit. My hands shake with helpless rage as I grab the outfit I wore today and push down my pajama pants, since Carter can’t see below my shirt on the phone. “I swear to God, Carter, if you lay a finger on my friend, I will destroy you. I don’t know how, I know you’ll strike back harder, but I don’t care. I will decimate you, and I will not rest until I do.”
“Like I said, you can try,” he replies easily, taking Grace’s phone out of her hand and turning away from her. “Here’s the deal, Zoey. Erika lives over on Meadow Ridge. That’s about a 5 minute drive from your house, but I’m gonna be nice and give you 10 minutes to get here.” He taps the watch on his wrist, lifting an eyebrow. His finger moves down just slightly. “Now, it gets to be 15 minutes and I take Grace upstairs.”
My body is so amped up, I can scarcely breathe. “Carter, this is not funny. You leave Grace alone.”
He taps the watch again. “It’s in your hands now, Ellis.” Pointing a little lower, he says, “I wouldn’t let it get to this 20-minute mark, because if it gets to this 20-minute mark and you’re still not here? Well, then good little Gracie’s gonna lose hers before you lose yours.”
My skin burns with rage. “Don’t you touch her. I’m so serious about this, Carter. I’m not playing some stupid game with you—”
“Yes, you are, and the clock’s running.” With one last little smirk, he says, “Tick tock, princess.”
Then he ends the call.
* * *
It has been 12 minutes by the time I pull onto Erika’s road. Dread moves through my body and my stomach aches, because I know this can’t go well. I can’t believe Grace came here without me. I can’t believe Carter is being such an enormous shithead. I tried to call her four times on the way over and she didn’t answer her
phone. Why isn’t she answering all of a sudden? Maybe she just doesn’t hear it ringing over the music, but maybe Carter is doing something horrible and she can’t.
I was a fool to believe him when he said he doesn’t terrorize other girls. I can’t even believe I fell into that trap—thinking I was some sort of exception. He’s a psycho, and I want to rip his dick off and feed it to him.
Every step I take toward Erika’s front door feels heavier than the last. This is the last place I want to be. These are the absolute last people I want to see.
I hesitate at the door, unsure what to do. Should I knock? Just open the door and barge in? There are six small windows on the front door, so I can see inside the house, right into the living room. I can see it packed full of people, jocks piled on the couch, a cheerleader sitting on the arm, grinning and drinking from a red Solo cup.
I decide to knock first, but if no one hears me, I’m busting in.
I grab my phone to check where I’m at on time. Fuck, 15 minutes. I look in the window again, searching for either Grace or Carter.
Instead I see the blue eyes of Jake Parsons move directly into view on the other side of the window. The door drifts open, the noise growing louder, and Jake cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Fancy seein’ you here, Ellis.”
I glare at him. “Where is Carter?”
Now Jake rolls his eyes. “Tell me something, Zoey. How is it that I come onto you and get my ass handed to me, but after what me and Shayne saw him do to you, you’re hangin’ around the guy all the time? Is it because he’s rich? I don’t have enough money to impress you?”
“Carter doesn’t impress me. He’s terrorizing me. I do not have time for this—he has my friend somewhere alone. Alone, like he had me in that classroom. Where is he?”
Realization suddenly dawns on Jake’s face. “Oh, shit.” He turns and indicates the stairs. “He and Grace went up there a couple minutes ago. She seemed like she went willingly though….”
I don’t waste time explaining, I just brush past him and jog up the stairs to go save Grace.
Chapter 13
Of course every single door upstairs is closed, so I have to open each one as I go. The last door on the left is the right one. I shove it open and there sits Grace on the edge of a bed, her hand on Carter’s knee. The smallest tickle of relief moves through me when I see that they are both still fully clothed, and though she’s touching him, Carter is not touching her.
Even drunk off her ass, Grace is proselytizing. Reaching out and trying to share with this asshole what helped her through her own struggles. Her voice is soft and dreamy as she tells him, “It’s just the greatest joy you can fathom, Carter. I can’t even explain it.”
I don’t know who to glare at first, but I go with Carter since he’s the devil. His gaze drifts to me as soon as the door opens. Casually as can be, as if I didn’t just interrupt, he says to Grace, “Is that right?”
She nods enthusiastically, visibly blissed out. “Open your heart to Jesus and you’ll see. You’ll receive His blessings, too.”
I shake my head in disgust, walking over and grabbing the Solo cup out of Grace’s hand. I peek at the red liquid inside, sniff it, but of course I can’t tell if he did anything to it.
Placing a hand on Grace’s shoulder, I tell her, “Come on, honey, up off the bed. Don’t go into bedrooms with boys at parties, okay? Can we just make that a general rule?”
“Justice and I used to sneak off at parties all the time.”
Since that was her boyfriend, I cock an eyebrow. “Oh. Okay, well… don’t sneak off with boys who are not your boyfriend, and never Carter, Jake, or Shayne. Never ever. Even if they tell you there’s a fire, and the only way to safety is into a room alone with them.”
Grace widens her eyes at me. “Zoey, he’s sitting right here.”
“He knows my opinion of him,” I answer, yanking on her arm. “Off the bed. Come on. How much of this punch did you have?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not alcoholic though!”
I glare at Carter. He smirks. I am not amused. “How much of this did she drink?” I demand.
“I wasn’t keeping track,” he tells me.
“Great. That’s just great. You’re unbelievable.”
Leaning back on his elbows on the bed and eyeing me up like his next meal, he says, “Relax, Ellis. All that worrying’s gonna give you an ulcer.”
“I can’t relax,” I snap. “She’s not supposed to have a lot of sugary drinks, and you’ve been dumping fruit punch down her throat. She’s too drunk to keep track herself—this is all your fault.”
“It’s punch,” he states, like I’m being ridiculous.
“She’s diabetic!”
Now he sits up, a little less chill. “Oh. Shit, well, I didn’t know that.”
I shake my head, dragging Grace toward the door. “Of course you didn’t. Not like you would have cared even if you did though, right? As long as you got your way, who cares who gets hurt along the way? That’s the Carter Mahoney mission statement, isn’t it?”
Grace chides me. “You’re bein’ so mean, Zoey.”
“I don’t really want to hear it from you, Grace. I told you it wasn’t safe to come to this party and you ignored me, and now we’re both in a bad situation. Do you have your insulin? Do you need your insulin? Or a snack? I don’t know how alcohol plays into this. You need to drink some water. You didn’t have iced coffee today, did you?”
“I hate insulin,” she mutters. “I want to be normal.”
“You are normal,” I murmur, leading her out into the hall and toward the stairs.
Before I make it to the landing, Carter grabs me from behind, shaking his head. “Nope. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Haven’t you done enough? Get your hands off me,” I snap.
Jake is right at the bottom of the stairs, like he was waiting for me. He glances up now and takes the first couple of steps. “Everything okay up here?”
Carter’s grip on me tightens even as I try to wiggle out of his grip. He looks down the stairs at Jake. “Yeah, come get Grace. She needs water. Take her to the kitchen and get her a bottle.”
Glaring back at Carter, I tell him, “Let go of me. I am going to get her a bottle of water, and then I am taking her home.”
He couldn’t be more dismissive. “After all I had to do to get you here? No, you’re not.” Meeting Jake’s gaze as he reluctantly takes Grace’s arm to guide her down the stairs, Carter tells him, “Don’t get handsy, Parsons. Remember what happened last time. And keep a close eye on her. I didn’t know, but she’s diabetic. Don’t let her have any more punch. If she starts acting weird, text me.”
“I am not leaving Grace with him, and I’m not goin’ anywhere with you. I have to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Parsons is gonna do it,” he tells me. “That’s his job now.”
“Carter, dammit,” I object as he locks his arm around me and drags me back down the hall. “Let me go. Let me take care of my friend!”
“You’re going to take care of me instead,” he informs me.
Fury explodes in my veins. “No, I am not. Help! Somebody—”
His hand covers my mouth immediately. He sounds annoyed when he says, “That’s a waste of fucking time, Ellis. Did anyone help you last time? People don’t help. Try to keep up.”
“I hate you,” I cry out against his hand.
“Stop being so dramatic,” he tells me, dragging me back inside the bedroom and closing the door. This time, he turns the lock. I struggle to get away from him, but he’s too strong, his hold on me too tight. I thrash some more, but he holds me tightly against his body and drags me back toward the bed.
It’s a strange thing to think in this moment, but it feels weird and wrong on even more than obvious levels that this has to be Erika’s bedroom. There are trophies, sashes, ribbons, and pom poms displayed all over, a lavender bedspread covering her mattress. They probably had sex o
n this bed when they were together.
I no more than think that and Carter shifts my weight and shoves me down on the bed. Since he gave me a push, I hit the mattress hard. I immediately shove up to my hands and knees, trying to climb back off, but he’s right there to stop me.
Fear explodes inside me as he comes down on top of me, flattening my body against the pillowy surface. I’m tummy down and he’s straddling my ass, grabbing my arms, pinning them at my sides.
I shake my head in denial. Not like this. It can’t happen like this. “Carter, please.”
His voice is harder, more commanding than I expect. “Calm down.” Then instead of keeping me pinned here like this, he flips me over on my back. He still pins me before I can get away from him, but at least now he’s looking at me. I can see his face. I don’t have any more control than I had a moment ago, I guess, but it feels like I have more ground this way. I stand a better chance of appealing to him if he can see the emotions playing out on my face.
Actually, probably not. He’s a fucking maniac.
Instead of feeding him more fear, which I know he likes, I do my best to clear that off my face. I shake my head and level my heaviest look of disappointment at him. “Was it all fake, then? Was every interaction since that classroom bullshit? This is all you wanted—why didn’t you just take it at lunch Wednesday? You had me alone in your car.”
“I told you, I was trying to be nice,” he states. “And no, it was not all fake. None of it was fake. I made it clear I liked you. I must have asked you out half a dozen times. You said no every time.”
My eyes bug out. “Yes, Carter. I said no.”
He shrugs. “So, I had to get creative. You could’ve just gone to the movies with me last night and then Grace wouldn’t be drunk right now, but you always have to fight tooth and nail.”
Shaking my head, I tell him, “That’s not trying, Carter. Are you really so spoiled that you consider that a great effort?”