A Son of Carver (Carver High #2)

by Haven Francis

  “Just because he doesn’t understand grey, it doesn’t mean that you have to pretend there is none or that grey isn’t currently a huge part of your life.”

  She stares at me, a slight shake to her head. “I would like to know when, exactly, you became the voice of reason in my life.”

  I laugh. “I’ve always given good advice, Presley. I just don’t usually take it.”

  She smiles a lazy smile and breaths long and hard. “Maybe we should give my advice skills a try. Maybe we should talk about you.”

  “I’m actually feeling pretty stable at the moment, thanks though,” I tell her because the only thing that’s really messing with my life right now is her. Plus, I already have a therapist. Her name is Summer Brooks.

  “Fine, Mr. Perfect. Tell me about your date then. Who’s the blonde and why was she with you and not on a beach shooting for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition?”

  “Are you jealous?” I ask, wagging my eyebrows at her.

  “No. I am curious though, where do you bring your dates? You’re looking all dapper.”

  “Well I definitely don’t bring my first dates straight to my bedroom like some guys we know,” I tell her, feeling like an ass for saying it. But it’s true. I love what a hypocrite he is. And I wonder if she even sees it.

  “Funny.”

  “Really? I don’t really think it’s that funny. Especially when, according to him, I’m the slut who only sees women as pieces of meat.”

  “It wasn’t really a first date. I mean, we hang out all the time.”

  “So he’s taken you out to eat… to a movie… something?”

  “Okay. You’re giving me whiplash. Does he care about me or is he just trying to have sex with me?”

  “Both.”

  “And why are we talking about me again? We’re talking about you. Where’d you guys go?”

  “I took her out to eat at Green Haven.”

  “The country club? Jesus, you must really like the girl.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It was our second date. Too early to say.”

  “Well I gotta say… I’m impressed.”

  “I’m a pretty good boyfriend, maybe even an award winning one.” Damn it. I don’t like the kid and I can’t pass up easy digs at him.

  “So she’s your girlfriend?”

  “Second date, Presley.”

  “How’d you meet her?”

  “Summer set us up.”

  “What,” she practically screams.

  “Is that weird?” I ask, screwing up my face at her.

  “I don’t know, is it?”

  “Ah… no? Why would it be?”

  “Okay, seriously. What the hell is going on with the two of you? Are you the only two people in the entire school who can’t see the sexual tension there? Because it’s palpable. And why are you two so damn secretive if there’s not something you’re trying to keep secret?”

  I laugh at her sudden burst of questions. “We do have a secret.” I watch as her eyes pop out and she leans into me. “We have this place that we go to a couple of times a week. Where we… talk. And drink. But mostly talk.”

  “Are you serious? You just… talk to her?”

  “Why is that surprising? What exactly do I do when I’m with you? Because I swear to god, that’s all we do is fucking talk. And talk… and talk…” I tell her with a smile so she knows I don’t actually mind it.

  “Well yeah, but I’m me and she’s… Summer.”

  “Do we need to have this conversation again? Because I think I’ve made it pretty clear how I feel about you.”

  “And you must realize I still don’t actually believe that nonsense.”

  “What the hell do I have to do to make you believe me?”

  “Nothing. Please. Just drop it… that would be excellent.” She leans back into the couch, takes her hand from mine and pushes it towards me like the compliments literally repel her.

  “Fine.”

  She gives me an untrusting glare, but then her shoulders relax. “So… never tried to seduce her?”

  “If I had tried, I would have succeeded.”

  She laughs at my cockiness. “Please. She would never let you touch her.”

  “Really? A minute ago weren’t you convinced that we had some secret affair going on?”

  She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes.

  “Just so you know I did kiss her. And she totally kissed me back.” Oh hell, why did I say that? Summer would not appreciate me sharing that bit of information.

  “Oh, so now the truth comes out, Mr. We Just Talk,” she laughs.

  “It was one time.”

  “How come it was only one time?”

  “It was awkward as fuck, like kissing our siblings.” I can’t help but laugh; in retrospect, it seems a little ridiculous.

  “I can see that. Probably how it would be if you ever tried to kiss me. Things like that never work out between friends.”

  She’s smiling but I’m not. Things with Presley are definitely not comparable to things with Summer. At least not to me. But apparently they are to her. Oh fuck. Am I in the friend zone? Is that where I am with this girl. Jesus.

  “So what do you guys talk about?”

  “Brandon. Tatum. Her crap. My crap. Everything. Nothing. You…”

  “Me?”

  “Of course you.”

  “I don’t even want to know.”

  “It’s all good,” I tell her, reaching out and taking her hand back in mine. “Mostly…”

  “Hmm,” she mutters. “So why is it so damn secret?”

  “It’s not. People don’t ask… they just assume.”

  “So is this like one of your hobbies – collecting broken girls and fixing them?”

  “I hope not.”

  “You’re a mystery, Nash Carter,” she says with a cute smile. She reaches around the side of the couch and pulls out her camera, aiming it at me.

  I smile for her.

  “Can you not pose?”

  I lay back on the couch and gaze up at the ceiling, my fingers scratching my chin.

  “Okay… stop.”

  I give up, lean forward, grab my beer and take a pull.

  “Perfect,” she tells me, taking her picture.

  I laugh. “So that’s me, under the surface – I’m a beer drinker?” She takes another picture.

  “I’m not sure how to portray therapist. What’d you do for your photos?”

  “You’re gonna have to wait until Friday to see, but pretty sure mine are better. Again. But we’ll let Harley be the judge.”

  “Fucking Harley,” she mutters with a cute smile.

  I sit back and relax, let her take her damn pictures. I don’t know how he hell I keep ending up here, but here I am, again, letting her put her tiny little friendly fingers all over my heart.

  13

  I throw my sweats and tank top on and head downstairs where my mom’s waiting with a pizza and a romantic comedy all set up on Netflix. Thank god it’s Friday. This week has been weird and emotional and I’m ready to have it all come to an end. I’m even excited about being stuck in this house because Jolee and my aunt and uncle are out of town for the weekend.

  “God, this is heaven,” I mutter as I hunker down against my mom with a hot slice of pizza in my hand.

  “Ah, baby. You’re too sweet,” my mom says facetiously.

  “It’s you, obviously. But, we’re eating pizza… on the couch… do you realize that?”

  LeeAnn is on a perpetual diet; none of which include pizza, and there’s no eating outside the kitchen so this is a luxury we haven’t had since leaving California. “I know. What else should we do while she’s gone?”

  I smile at my mom. For a minute she’s the mom I had in California – a grown kid who was always up for anything – especially if we were getting into innocent trouble.

  “I could think of a few things…”

  She laughs. “I’ve actually been making a mental list. I serio
usly considered swapping out her diet pills for laxatives.”

  “Ha,” I bark out a laugh. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

  “No. We can’t,” she says with regret. “I know this sucks, but they’re letting us stay here and…”

  She doesn’t finish her sentence but I know how it should have ended – we don’t have anywhere else to go.

  “It’s really not that bad,” I lie because I know, if she could, she would get both of us out of here ASAP.

  “Liar. I hate watching the way Jolee treats you. You don’t let her get to you though, right? I mean, really, you should feel bad for her. I’ve never met such a shallow person. Can you imagine being stuck inside her head all day? What stupid, meaningless, petty thoughts take up all the space in her brain?”

  I laugh out loud.

  “Oh my god. What am I saying? Jesus, she’s just a child. Please forget I just said that.”

  “A child? She’s eighteen, Mom. And she deserves it.” Jolee’s been extra bitchy to me ever since the race. It doesn’t help that I’ve been making an effort to openly be friends with Nash in school too.

  “Maybe. But still, she’s my niece.”

  “Whatever. She’s gone at the moment and I don’t want to spend one second of this night talking about her or thinking about her.”

  “Agreed,” she says. “You want to talk about your boyfriend?” she says with a mischievous smile.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I tell her. I finally brought Angel over last night which was as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. But after dinner the three of us sat around and talked for a while and it was good. She’s glad that I found someone like me in this town, meaning alternative I guess. She thought he was mature, well-spoken and she liked the way he held his own around our atrocious family. And he did. He did all those things. And when it was time for him to go he gave me a kiss that felt nice and gave me hope that I could still salvage things with him.

  “Why isn’t he your boyfriend?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not ready. Cole and I just broke up.”

  She laughs, “That might be true, but you haven’t really been with him since we left California. Tell me the real reason.”

  I smile. She knows me better than anyone. “Maybe the timing’s just off. I have too much other stuff on my mind right now.”

  She sighs. “I’m sorry that I got you involved in all the drama with Dad – that was wrong of me. You’ve always been my best friend and I’ve always told you everything, but I forgot for a minute that he’s your Dad. No matter how I feel about him… he’s your father. I don’t know what I was thinking showing you that Instagram account.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “It’s okay. I mean, at least I can’t live in denial anymore.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “You’re staying in with me tonight because you want to, right? It’s not because you think I need to be taken care of, right? I mean, I hope you know I’m completely good with alone time especially now that LeeAnn never lets me have it.”

  I laugh. “Do you want me to go?”

  She pushes a hand into my shoulder. “No, of course not. I just don’t want what’s going on with me and your dad interfering with your social life… I know it’s already wreaking havoc on every other part of your life as it is…”

  “This is the only place I want to be right now. But I promise I’ll leave you alone tomorrow night.”

  “Nash’s race?”

  “Yep,” I say tensely.

  She gives me a shit eating grin. “What about Nash… is he part of the reason you won’t let Angel be your boyfriend?”

  My eyes flash to hers, shock all over my face. “What? Why would you say that?”

  “Because, Presley, you’ve been spending a lot of time with him. And it was kind of obvious that Angel doesn’t like him.”

  “I haven’t been spending a lot of time with him and I only went over there on Tuesday because I had to take pictures. And… he wasn’t even there for most of the time. He was out on a date.” With a gorgeous blonde who looked like the more proper version of Tatum, which is clearly his type.

  Not that I care. It’s not like it bothers me who he’s dating. Or that he’s been different with me ever since that night. I shouldn’t expect anything from him, he’s already done enough for me and put up with enough of my shit. So what if he no longer holds my hand or wraps an arm around me. So what if I never catch him looking at me from across the cafeteria. So what if he’s basically stopped texting me. Who cares if I made some overly-emotional speech to go along with the portraits I took of him and his brother and dad and he didn’t react at all. At least Mr. Conroy liked them. At least Harley chose my photos this time.

  “Hmm,” she says. “And why doesn’t Angel like him?”

  I shrug. “They’re just two different people.” Which is true, but my mom’s right. Things have only gotten worse since I’ve started defending Nash and being openly nice to him. Angel’s especially pissed that I’m skipping his party to go to Nash’s race again. Nash hasn’t asked me to go with him, but I’ll be there one way or another so I can get my pictures taken.

  “Not that you care about your mom’s opinion, but I liked him.”

  I stutter a laugh. “Yeah, most females do.”

  “Gross, Presley. I’m a mom.”

  I look up at her and smile. “And yet, you find him irresistible and charming.”

  “I found him sincere and confident and handsome in a teenager kind of way. And also, I liked the way he was rejecting Jolee’s advances and the way he talked about you. And I thought it was pretty cute how excited he got when you came walking into the kitchen.”

  “He was excited because he caught me in a lie and I was speechless when I saw him sitting there.”

  “And the way he was talking about you and asking me questions like my sister and niece weren’t even in the room with us – what was the purpose of that?”

  “Probably trying to get information he could hold against me at a later date.”

  “Oh, stop. He was not. Do you not like him either?” she asks with mild shock.

  “I didn’t. I mean on that morning I really didn’t like him. But, he’s been a good friend to me. And I like hanging out with him and his family.”

  “You know, it’s okay to admit you’re interested in him. I can understand why you would be apprehensive about it - he seems like the kind of guy that a lot of girls would like and that thought is always daunting. But you can admit it. To me. Because I’m pretty sure you like him and I’m pretty sure he likes to you too.”

  “Oh my god Mom, and you’re basing all of this on the twenty minutes you actually spent with him?”

  “That and the way you’re getting so defensive about him. And Angel’s reaction when his name got brought up – that wasn’t a we’re different people reaction, it was a that guy is trying to steal my girlfriend reaction.”

  “Please. Angel would never think I was stupid enough to be interested in Nash.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I shake my head. “They’re just two different people.”

  “Meaning Angel thinks he’s better than him?”

  “Maybe,” I admit.

  “Hmm, well I like that one a little less now.”

  “It’s not a competition,” I inform her.

  “That’s what you think,” she tells me as my phone rings.

  I pick it up and look at Angel’s name on the screen. I try to ignore the fact that I’m disappointed it’s not Nash. I show it to my mom, “Should I inform him of your feelings?”

  “Sure,” she tells me with a wink.

  I roll my eyes at her then answer the phone, “Hey. What are you doing? I thought you were out with your friends.”

  “Yeah, I was. I mean, I am I just…needed to talk to you.”

  “Hold on.” He sounds way too serious so I get up from the couch and walk to my mom’s bedroom, shutting the door behind me. “What’s up?”r />
  “I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about a lot of things… about us.”

  “Okay,” I tell him, holding my breath.

  “I’ve never done this with anyone and I don’t know what’s normal or how I’m supposed to be feeling, but all this shit is going through my head and I think we need to talk. Can I come over?”

  Oh god. I don’t know what he wants to talk about but the last thing I want right now, tonight, is to have this conversation with him in person. “I just sat down with my mom to watch a movie… can it wait? Or can you just tell me what’s on your mind?”

  I hear him letting out a frustrated sigh. “See, this is part of the problem. I thought you were the one who wanted to be my girlfriend, not just some girl I’m screwing around with. But I feel like I’m the one always trying to be with you and you’re always pushing me away. And even when we’re together it just feels like you can’t wait to get away from me.”

  Shit. Nash was right. He knows something’s wrong but he doesn’t know what it is…because I don’t tell him anything. “You’re right. I mean, I can see why you would feel that way. It’s just, I do want to date you but when I’m with you it feels like you just want me to be the girl you’re screwing around with. And that’s not what I wanted, Angel. It’s not something I’m ready for but I know it’s something you need. I should have told you that after the first time we kissed at your party but I was scared you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry.” He’s silent. For too long. “Angel?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I’m just thinking.”

  “About…?”

  “If you’re right. I just…I don’t know if I can treat you the way you want to be treated. I don’t know if I can be a good partner to you. I told myself all the reasons I didn’t want to date could have just been excuses, but it doesn’t seem like they are. I’m losing focus of everything. I’m spending way too much time thinking about why you don’t want me around. And Harley just informed me he didn’t realize how close you and Nash are because apparently your last presentation was pretty intimate and emotional. And when people ask if you’re gonna be around tomorrow I have to tell them no – you’re gonna be at Nash’s race supporting him, instead of at my place supporting me. And honestly Presley, I don’t like this feeling. I know you would never be interested in the guy but it doesn’t stop me from being pissed off. I don’t like being jealous. I don’t like wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I mean I’m thinking about you, about this relationship, about what the hell I’m supposed to be doing, all the time and I’m wondering why the hell I’m doing that because in a few months I’ll be leaving for school and you’ll still be here so really, not to sound like an asshole, but it’s a waste of my time. Especially if I’m never gonna get anywhere with you.”