by Mariano, Sam
“Yeah, I’m sure Carter Mahoney feels real fuckin’ threatened by me,” Jake mutters dryly. “Bet he cries about it in his marble-floored money pit every damn night.”
“I didn’t say he feels threatened, but he is protective, so I doubt he would want you sitting by me.”
“Why? Afraid I might pin you down on the bleachers and take you for myself? Actually, maybe he should be. Apparently you’re into that sort of thing.”
He’s such a dick. I’m just going to ignore him.
After a minute, he asks, “What are you studyin’ for anyway?”
“History,” I murmur, dragging my finger down the page of my neatly written notes to find the answer I’m looking for.
“No, I mean, didn’t Mahoney knock you up? What do you need to study for? You’re set for life.”
Looking over at him, I remark, “You are obsessed with Carter’s money, aren’t you? No, I’m not pregnant. That’s just a rumor.”
Jake cocks a skeptical eyebrow. “It came directly from Carter. He started a rumor about himself?”
“It’s a long story. I wasn’t pregnant, he was just pissing on a tree. Telling a bunch of teenage guys I’m knocked up was an effective way of makin’ me unappealing.”
“Nice guy, that Carter,” he deadpans.
“The nicest.”
“Not controlling at all,” he adds.
“Doesn’t even know the meaning of the word,” I volley back.
“Well, my whole congregation prayed for your soul last weekend,” he tells me.
“Their efforts are much appreciated,” I offer back, wishing he would stop talking. It’s hard to study with him being so noisy.
A moment of blessed silence passes, then he ruins it by saying, “Bet you liked watchin’ Erika fall, huh?”
I flip a page more violently, even though I think I already passed the information I needed. “Not especially, no.”
Jake laughs. “Bullshit. Any girl would get a charge out of watchin’ their cheating ass boyfriend take out a social hit on the other girl.”
“He didn’t cheat, and it wasn’t—” Cutting myself off, I tell him, “You know what? I need to study. It’s been a lovely chat, but I need to get back to it.”
“Why won’t you just admit it? He cheated, but you took him back anyway because he’s fuckin’ Carter Mahoney. You did the same shit Erika did. You drive me crazy with that shit. If you’d just admit why you do things, you’d annoy me a whole hell of a lot less. This nice girl routine is bullshit.”
“I don’t actually care about being a nice girl, Jake,” I tell him. “I am who I am, and if people like it, cool. If they don’t, fuck ‘em. You want me to be someone I’m not, that’s the problem. You want to vilify me, you want to see me as shallow and meaner than I am, you want me to like Carter for his money, and you want him to have cheated, because wouldn’t that just serve me right? You wish ill on me, but it’s not for anything I’ve done, it’s just what you need to see in order to be the good guy in your own narrative. Here’s the problem. You’re not the good guy. You’d be a much better guy if you just admitted to your fuck-ups and imperfections. If you want to be the good guy, act like one, don’t try to warp everyone else to make yourself look better. That’s not just lazy, it’s cowardly and pathetic.”
Since clearly I’m not going to get any studying done and Jake is only going to further annoy me if I stay here, I gather my things, grab my purse, and prepare to leave the aisle. Before I can, his hand shoots out and he grabs my arm. “Not so fuckin’ fast, sweetheart.”
“Get your hand off me,” I tell him, glancing back over my shoulder. “How many fucking times do I have to say that to you before it sinks in? I don’t like when you touch me, even casually. Keep your hands to yourself.”
I have to yank hard on my hand to get it free, then I make my way down the steps of the stadium. I don’t know where to go, I just need to get away from him. Looking down the aisles as I move lower and lower, I look for a spot, but there really aren’t any. It’s close to championships, homecoming is next week—people aren’t missing games right now, they’re bringing more people to cheer.
By the time I’ve made it to the ground, all I feel like doing is going home. I wonder how disappointed Carter would be if I left. We’re all supposed to go to the café after the game, but I don’t feel like scouring the stadium for a place to sit, either.
Making matters much worse, when I turn around, I see Jake heading toward me down the steps.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” I mutter to myself. I start to round the corner to leave the stadium, but then it occurs to me, he could follow me. I don’t think he would take things as far as Carter has, but having seen the way Carter fights, I know Jake will be his next “social hit” if he hears about Jake so much as touching my wrist.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Jake says, surprising the hell out of me.
I can’t help turning to face him, wide-eyed. “What did you just say to me?”
“I didn’t intend to piss you off, you just….” He trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t think Carter’s good for you. I don’t understand why he did worse to you than I did, but you like him. You say it’s not the money, but what else could it be? What does he have that I don’t?”
I don’t know whether to feel bad for Jake because he is so unaccustomed to rejection that he literally can’t process it, or aggravated by his entitlement. I understand that he doesn’t understand, but I can’t explain it in a way that would ever help him accept it, either. The better question to me is, why the hell does he like me? I’ve never spent time with Jake like I have with Carter. At this point, I feel like Jake only likes me because Carter wants me. If I can hold the attention of Carter Mahoney, I must be something special.
“Look, what do you and I have in common, Jake? What do I like to do in my free time? What’s my favorite subject in school? Why is it my favorite? What do I want more than anything else in the world? What is it about a guy that really turns me on? Why do I come to my boyfriend’s football game, then spend half the time studying? Am I just an asshole? What matters to me? For that matter, what is your favorite thing about me? Not physical, something else.”
He blinks vacantly, completely unprepared for any of those questions.
I nod my head knowingly. “Exactly. You don’t know. Carter does. He knows the answers to all of those questions and more. He gives me answers to questions I didn’t even have. Carter gets me, and he likes what’s really there. I’m an idea to you, that’s all. Being infatuated with an idea might feel nice, but it isn’t real. I am not the girl you have in your mind. If I were, you wouldn’t be so constantly agitated by my reality. Carter and I see each other, the real shit, the dark and dirty stuff, not just the nice stuff. We know each other well, and the more we learn, the more we like. We just fit better. That is the explanation. That is why he and I are good together, and you and I never could be.”
He’s scowling at the end of my speech, but before he has a chance to respond, Brianna comes bouncing over from the line-up of cheerleaders.
“What’s goin’ on over here?” she asks, glancing between us.
“Nothing, he was just leaving,” I tell her. To Jake, I nod pointedly back up the stadium steps. “You better go get that seat before someone takes it.”
He doesn’t immediately move, so Brianna props a hand on her hip and looks at him expectantly. “Go on, Jake.”
His lips curve up cynically. “You know, Brianna, I think this is the first time you’ve spoken to me since Carter banished me.”
“He’s gonna banish you even further if you keep botherin’ his girlfriend,” Brianna states. “What is wrong with you people? Just leave Zoey alone and Carter will leave you alone. It’s not that hard!”
“Yeah, well, we don’t all enjoy bein’ Carter’s bitch as much as you do, Bri,” Jake tells her. Then to me, he nods. “You better watch this one. Anyone this eager to do Carter’s bidding sure wouldn’t say no to his
dick—again.”
Brianna flushes, glaring at Jake. “Stop tryin’ to cause trouble and go away.”
“Is there a problem over here?”
My eyes widen and I look up as Carter’s father makes his way down the aisle, his eyes on us.
“Nah, Mr. Mahoney, no problem over here,” Jake tells him.
“Good,” Carter’s father clips, giving Jake a stern look. “Why don’t you go find a seat before you miss the game,” he suggests. Ignoring Brianna entirely, Mr. Mahoney puts a hand at the top of my back and nudges me toward the row he just exited. “Come on over here, honey. You can sit with us.”
Honey? I wasn’t entirely convinced by Carter’s mom’s assurance that Mr. Mahoney would be more accepting of me, but he went from “She’s going to drag you through the mud, just like she did Jake” to “honey” pretty damn quickly.
“Hi Zoey,” Chloe greets brightly as I approach.
“Hi, honey,” I offer back, looking at the row where they’re sitting.
There’s really not room for me, but Carter’s mom notices they need to make room and grabs Chloe, pulling her on her lap. Flashing me a smile, she pats the now empty bench and tells me, “You can sit here.”
I settle my things on my lap, but now that I’m not sitting alone, I would feel too awkward ignoring them to study. The view from this row is a lot better than my seats before, too. The cheerleaders are right in front of us. Carter is too far down the field to get a good view of now, but when they move back this way, I’ll get an eyeful of his butt in those football pants. Carter has such a nice butt.
“Want some of my popcorn?”
I pull myself out of lusty thoughts to glance over at Chloe, holding out a paper cone full of popcorn. “No, you can have it, but thank you for the offer,” I tell her.
Shrugging, she tips the cone back toward herself and grabs some popcorn to shove into her mouth. Her attention returns to the field, but mine lingers on her. This is the first I’ve seen her since Carter told me the truth about her shitty mother. I’ve never heard of something like that happening to anyone I’ve known before, but I guess it’s not the kind of thing most people would share openly. I wonder if he will ever tell her the truth. If not the traumatizing part, at least that she is actually his daughter, not his sister. I wonder if she’ll go to live with him in New York, although without me or a babysitter—which apparently he won’t allow—I don’t see how she could. Social life aside, he’ll have classes, and they may not all coincide with kindergarten hours. Or maybe they would, I don’t know.
I wish our schools were closer together. I wish the only considerations were what we want, and not what is possible.
“Did you bring a coloring book?” Chloe asks me.
“A coloring book?” I ask, confused. “No. Was I supposed to?”
She points at the notebook in my lap. “What’s that?”
I place a palm on the cover. “Oh, this is schoolwork. I’m trying to cram as much information into my brain as humanly possible, so I keep these with me pretty much everywhere I go.”
Carter’s dad pipes in with, “Carter tells us you’re on track to be class salutatorian. That’s quite the accomplishment.”
He must not have told them he was the one on track to be salutatorian, and he blew it so I could have the spot. I still feel a little guilty about that, but I keep telling myself Carter doesn’t need it like I do. Besides, it was his choice.
Over the course of the game, both of Carter’s parents chat with me. Chloe gets bored by half time and asks if she can use my highlighters to color pictures in my notebook. She winds up in my lap, drawing blue stick people with yellow hair and green clothes. Thankfully, I keep a multitude of colored highlighters and pens in my purse for note-taking purposes.
When the game is over, despite Chloe’s numerous requests to leave, Carter’s parents remain behind with me until Carter comes out to claim me. I get the feeling they don’t want to leave me alone in case anyone else tries to cause trouble. They certainly never bothered protecting me before, but after tonight, I feel more officially Carter’s girlfriend than I ever have before.
I’m not sure funny is the word, but it’s certainly remarkable how different things are from how they were before Carter. When I was nobody, when I reported Jake’s behavior, not a single person sprang to my defense. Not even my own parents. Now, Jake is a little bit unpleasant to me and I have cheerleaders and parents running to my rescue, all because now that I’m Carter’s, I matter. Now, I have a voice worth listening to—because I belong to Carter.
It’s kind of annoying, but I guess I’m not going to change the world all at once. I’ll take the reprieve, and maybe someday my voice will matter, even when he’s no longer around to make it count.
Or maybe not. Who knows?
At least I’ve survived the worst of senior year. From now until graduation, aside from jealous jerks trying to shake my trust in Carter for no reason, I have a hunch things will be calm. By the time I get used to it, it will be time for college to separate us, and I’ll begin a whole new adventure by myself.
My heart feels emptier just thinking about it. There’s no reason to let concerns about the future dull the present, though. Shoving them aside, I enjoy the feeling of Carter’s strong arms locking around my waist, his kisses peppering my mouth before he claims it in a deep, possessive kiss.
The first words out of his mouth when he breaks away are, “Why was Jake bothering you?”
“Because he has a crush on an imaginary girl who looks like me,” I inform him, winding my arms around his neck.
“Damned doppelgänger,” he says lightly, shaking his head.
“Always causing trouble,” I murmur, before stealing another kiss.
“Need me to take care of it?”
“I do not,” I tell him, firmly. “Your dad was nice to me today.”
I expect at least a hint of pleased surprise, but he merely nods confidently. “I know. I told you I’d take care of that. I got him on team Zoey.”
“Last time he was team ‘Zoey the ho,’ so good job on that turnaround.”
Smiling faintly, he kisses the end of my nose. “I have my ways.” Releasing my waist, he takes a step back and fishes his keys out of his bag. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Chapter 50
Saturday afternoon I’m sitting on my front porch doing some more studying and enjoying some fresh air when a shiny black limousine pulls to a stop in front of my house. It’s odd enough to see a shiny black limousine prior to prom, but to see one stopping in front of my house? No idea.
The door opens and a familiar sandal emerges. Grace has these brown sandals that are the ugliest thing anyone has ever seen, but she absolutely loves the things. She’s had them since we were 15, and ugly or not, they’re not going anywhere.
What is Grace doing in a limo, though?
With a big grin on her face, she pops out, iced coffee in hand. “Look at this!”
“I’m looking,” I say, setting my textbook aside. “What, exactly, am I looking at?”
Next out of the limo is Kasey. I have to do a double take because, while they are both my friends, I have never seen Grace and Kasey interact at all, let alone hang out together.
Before I have time to question this odd occurrence, a third head pops out of the limousine. Raven hair and good looks to spare—Carter’s older sister, Caroline.
“Hey, Zoey,” she greets.
I am so confused. Tentatively standing, I call back, “Hi…”
“Carter didn’t tell you we were coming, did he?” she realizes.
“He didn’t. He likes to surprise me,” I offer.
Grinning, she says, “I’ll bet he does. This is a good one, though.” Reaching into the front pocket of her tiny, stylish handbag, she holds up a credit card. “We’re going shopping.”
“Why?”
Caroline opens her mouth to answer me, but Grace is bursting with excitement and can�
��t help shrieking, “Homecoming! Carter’s buying us all dresses.”
Caroline nods and comes closer. I’m at the foot of the stairs at this point, so she leans in to tell me, “He said you might say no. If so, he said to tell you if you let him buy your dress, he’d buy their dresses, too. Your enthusiastic friend got me all discombobulated and I ended up telling her in the car, so… if he asks, you said no, then I had to bring the dress offer to the table. I’m a terrible negotiator,” she states.
Biting back a grin, I tell her, “Don’t worry, so am I.”
“Since he was open to blackmailing you into letting him buy your homecoming dress, I assume he did something terrible and deserves to buy their dresses anyway.”
I nod my head and whisper, “He kidnapped Grace’s dog.”
Caroline frowns. “Do I even want to know?”
Now I shake my head. “You don’t. The dog is home now, but yeah. Just Carter being Carter. Manipulating everyone in his life to get what he wants.”
“That sounds right,” she admits. Without missing a beat, she flashes me a grin. “Now, put your books away and grab your purse. We have shopping to do!”
* * *
One incredible gown later, I am ready for homecoming. Or, I think I am, until we drop off half of our girl gang and then Caroline tells the driver to take us to the mall.
“I thought you were taking me home,” I tell her.
Sipping on her smoothie straw, she shakes her head. “Just taking them home. We’ve gotta get you some shoes to go with that dress.”
“We don’t have to go to the mall for shoes,” I reason. “I’m sure we could find something suitable at the thrift store. They have tons of shoes.”
Judging by the alarmed widening of her eyes, I get the idea Caroline has never once stepped foot inside of a thrift store. “We’re going to the mall,” she states.
Depending on how far you want to drive, there are several malls we could go to, but Caroline opts for the closest—and the cutest, in my opinion. It’s the same shopping center that houses the bookstore I work at, so I’m very familiar with the place, I just don’t make much time to shop there. It’s a cute shopping center with cute little outdoor areas for the kids and tons of places to shop if you have money to spend. Today we do, and shoe shopping is not my area of expertise, so I let Caroline take the lead.