Myles (Carter Brother#3)

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Myles (Carter Brother#3) Page 4

by Lisa Helen Gray


  Shit, that’s a lot of fucks.

  She must sense me approaching because she raises her head and finds me, her eyes burning into mine and captivating them just like she always does. Her eyes are a dark, emerald green and, for a red head with green eyes, she’s awfully tanned. Everything about her screams ‘unique’ and that is something I’ll never take for granted.

  “Hey,’’ I smile, taking my seat at the end, boxing her in the middle of me and Max.

  “Hey,’’ she whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes nervously looking towards me, then to the girl sitting on our table.

  “Myles,’’ the girl sitting on the desk squeals, and I wince at the sound. I have to hold on to the edge of the table for dear life, to stop the urge to cover my ears as she gives me a queasy look, or it could be a grin, I can’t be sure with the way she’s looking at me with her crazy eyes.

  I nod my head not wanting to engage in any conversation with her, and turn back to Kayla and smile. She returns it with a small one of her own, but then flinches when the girl slides her ass across the table directly in front of me. I give Kayla an apologetic look before looking up to the girl in question with a raised brow.

  “Can I help?’’ I ask, trying not to sound rude, but I can’t help it when it comes to girls like her. I don’t exactly remember who she is, but I’ve see her type before and all they want is one thing. I’m hoping this is some prank my brother has put her up to because everyone knows the easiest Carter to get with is Max, and not me. So I don’t know why she’s wasting her time.

  “Oh, you most certainly can. I heard you’re a legend at chemistry, and was wondering if you’d tutor me after school,’’ she asks, and her fingers run down the buttons on her shirt. Rolling my eyes I turn to look at my brother who looks as dumbfounded by the whole ordeal, which only makes me believe he didn’t put her up to this. He knows I like Kayla, so he wouldn’t do something like this, especially not in front of her. So it begs the question, who has put this girl up to this. Everyone in the school knows I’m unapproachable. I don’t do the whole ‘bag um and sack um’ bullshit.

  “Sorry, but you heard wrong. I’m not that good. You should ask George, he gets straight A’s,’’ I dismiss her.

  “George?’’ She asks confused and in disbelief. Like the thought of me blowing her off is shocking. Jesus, I hate being rude, but she is seriously one of those girls who never gets the picture, even when it’s painted on a piece of paper, and given right to them.

  “Yeah, George. He sits over there,’’ I tell her, pointing to the pimple nose kid at the front. As if hearing his name he turns around, pushing his glasses further up his nose looking our way. When he sees we’re watching him, he gives us a smile and a wave before turning back to his notes.

  “No thanks,’’ she mutters. “I want you to teach me,’’ she whines.

  “Sorry, but no can do.’’ I smile, but I’m certain it looks like a cringe. “Plus, my girlfriend wouldn’t like it,’’ I blurt out, pushing my arm around Kayla’s chair.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you two were dating,’’ she tells me, before giving a look to Kayla. The girl must really be clueless because she blushes and jumps off the desk. She gives one last wink to Max before sauntering off back to her seat.

  “Wow, bro, talk about subtleties,’’ he laughs.

  “Girlfriend?’’ Kayla chokes out. I forgot for a second about her fears.

  Shit.

  “Yeah, about that. I’m sorry. It slipped out. I can’t stand girls like her. They get my back up and they don’t leave you alone. I’m sorry.’’

  “No, it’s fine,’’ she blushes before finishing off some notes she was taking.

  I’m about to say something else when the teacher finally walks in five minutes late. If that was one of us we would be in detention or get a warning. It seems teachers get a free pass to do whatever they want.

  God, I’m sounding more like Max every day. Although we’re twins, we’ve never had the same similarities in personalities. We both want different things from life. I want to be a social worker, whereas he is happy running the V.I.P with Maverick. I want to go to college, get married, have kids, but he doesn’t. He just wants to go on lads holidays, get rat assed, and live for the day, which is all good, but he can still do all that and take life seriously. I’m worried one day he’ll meet a girl and get knocked on his ass, but she won’t be interested in a male whore who only thinks with his dick. I mean, what girl would, right? Whereas I want to make a career, get married and have kids. I want to buy a house, drive a nice sports car, and live the dream. I don’t want to end up like my family did. Although we are in a good place financially, we weren’t always. There were times I can remember being so hungry my belly felt like it would explode. How I remember this from such a young age is anyone’s guess. I just know I never want to be in that situation ever again, one where I’m literally starving, worrying if I’ll ever eat another meal after the last. I guess my childhood is what’s driven me.

  “Max, turn your phone off and put it away before I confiscate it,’’ the teacher snaps, glaring at Max beside us. From the corner of my eye I notice Kayla put her head down and her cheeks flame red. Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Even blushing, timid, and quiet, she’s the most attractive girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “Sorry, Miss. Two more minutes, I’m just checking to see how my baby girl, Hope, is,’’ he gushes, not looking up from his phone as his fingers fly across the keys. I turn to my brother with a glare. Mason already warned him to stop texting Denny in the day in case she’s taking a nap. Hope hasn’t been sleeping through the night and with Mason working all day, and most nights, Denny is the one staying up most of the night doing night feeds.

  Kayla looks at me with an amused smile and I can’t help but feel the wind has been knocked out of me. Every time the damn girl smiles it does something to me. If only I could put it into words.

  “No, Max, I will not wait two minutes. Either you turn your phone off and put it away, or I’ll take the phone away from you, and you won’t have it back till the end of the day. You should be able to refrain from texting your girlfriends in the day by now,’’ she snaps and the whole class erupts with laughter.

  Max frowns, looking disgusted as he lifts his head to address the teacher. “One, ewww, she’s my niece, Miss, and two, she likes it when I check in with her. When she doesn’t hear from me she doesn’t settle for her mom,’’ he brags, and my eyes flicker back to the teachers and I watch her give Max a ‘how naive do you think I am’ look and I have to grin. The teacher hasn’t been here long, but already she has Max pegged out.

  “What?’’ he shouts, offended, making Kayla jump and out of gut reaction I grab her chair and slide it closer to mine. I notice her breathing pick up and I smile down at her to help her relax. Her eyes are wide and glassed over, and for a second I mistake it for tears, but then her tongue snakes out and licks her bottom lip and my groin tightens. God, how am I supposed to be friends with the girl if all she has to do is lick her lips and I’m hard? Max’s voice cuts in and I snap my attention back to him, my hard on disappearing.

  “It’s a true story, Miss; I made it up myself,’’ he whines, shoving his phone into his blazer. The other classmate’s chuckle at him amused.

  “Max, you have detention after school Friday.’’ The teacher dismisses him on a snap, and he throws his hands up in the air frustrated.

  “Honesty is the best policy, Miss. You can’t give me detention for being honest,’’ he whines, sounding like a girl. I’m thankful when the bell rings because I can’t take any more of their arguing back and forth. I have to listen to enough arguing involving him at home.

  “Max, you can have detention for lunch today too,’’ she snaps, sending him a glare.

  “Jesus, if I give you a straw will you suck the joy out of someone else’s day instead?’’

  A few snickers erupt in the room, but I tune them out shaking my head. My brother never
learns when to keep his trap shut.

  “We have childcare now, don’t we?’’ Kayla’s small voice asks, and I turn gesturing her forward, to guard her from people bumping into her.

  “No, we have history first, then childcare. I’m not sure what you have for the rest of the day. I have P.E. after lunch and then biology,’’ I tell her, feeling gutted I couldn’t work in all of her lessons with mine. I tried to when the principal asked me to arrange her timetable. I just didn’t want to come off strongly and look like a total stalker.

  “Oh,’’ she frowns, looking unhappy.

  “I have chemistry third, and P.E. for last period, but I don’t think I’ll be going to P.E. I’m hoping my dad remembered to get me excused,’’ she blushes. Then with a shaky hand she moves another loose strand of hair behind her ear. The move is innocent if you’re not close to Kayla, but because I know her, I know she’s nervous about P.E. Maybe she heard about what happened to Harlow? If that’s the case then she can be assured nothing like that will ever happen to her. Not again anyway.

  “Why are you excused?’’ I ask interested, as we make our way though the buildings to our next lesson.

  “Oh, nothing,’’ she mumbles, looking worried and nervous.

  “Tell me,’’ I tease lightly, hoping she trusts me. Something about needing her to trust me burns deep down inside me.

  “I have some scars.’’ She whispers so quietly I can barely hear her over the noise of chattering students. I pull her to the side, down an empty corridor and position her against the wall. Her breathing picks up and even through her shirt and blazer I can see her chest rising and falling heavily. My hand lifts slowly, so not to scare her, to move another loose strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear.

  “Scars?’’ I croak out, emotion clogging my throat.

  She looks up at me startled and for the first time I see fear in her eyes. I take a little step back, not enough for her to escape, but enough for her to try and relax around me to talk.

  “Can we go, we’re going to be late?’’ she tries to side step me, but I put a hand firmly on her hip, the movement causes her to jump.

  “Tell me,’’ I tell her gently, my eyes staring down into hers and pleading.

  “From when… From when Davis,’’ she starts. But then her eyes begin to water and her body starts to shake. I feel like a complete fucking jackass for pushing her. I should have fucking known it had something to do with that jackass. I pull her into my arms and try to comfort her. Her body is as stiff as a surfboard at first, but once I run my fingers gently up and down her back she begins to sink against me, her body softening.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, if I’d known-”

  “You couldn’t have known. It’s okay,’’ she whispers, but I feel her shudder beneath me and it kills me that she has to live with this day in, day out.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed, I’m sorry,’’ I tell her honestly, wishing there was something I could do to fix this.

  “I’m being stupid,’’ she tells me as she pulls away, her fingers wiping the wetness away from under her eyes. I feel the coldness seep in between us when she takes a step away and this time I let her.

  “No you’re not. Come on, let’s get to class before I’m the one getting detention,’’ I grin, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. My mind is too focused on how I can help Kayla and make it up to her.

  Arriving in childcare, Kayla and I take the seats at the front nearest the door. We both have lunch after this, so we want to be the first ones out.

  I like our childcare teacher; she’s pretty cool for an old chick, and she’s pretty lenient with things other teachers give out detentions for.

  “Hey, class. I’ve come baring gifts,’’ she cheers, holding out envelopes with our assignments in them. Each will have a different subject and topic to discuss, and we will write a twenty thousand word essay, along with a five minute presentation.

  Students groan, but it’s not heatedly. You can tell they enjoy this lesson just as much as any of the others. I’m not the only male in the class, a few other kids picked it as a G.C.S.E. thinking it would be an easy grade, but the joke was on them, now they’re stuck with it until we finish up with school.

  The teacher walks around handing everyone their assignments and when she gets to our table she gives us a big grin.

  “Hey, you must be, Kayla?’’ she says looking towards Kayla.

  “Yes.’’ Kayla answers, looking embarrassed.

  “I’m Miss. Watson, I teach childcare and health and social care. Myles told me you were transferring so he paired himself with you, but if you’d like to change, I can try move some people around,’’ she smiles, pulling a chair out to sit in front of us.

  “No, I’m okay working with Myles,’’ she answers quietly, her chair moving closer towards mine. She’s nervous, that much I can tell, but the question is why? Why is she nervous around Miss. Watson when she’s a woman?

  It’s probably because she’s never met Miss. Watson, jackass.

  I scold myself for not thinking of it sooner. “You’ve not met Miss. Watson yet have you?’’ I ask, looking to Kayla. I notice the teacher looking between us with a curious expression and I know it has more to do with Kayla’s reaction to her than it is with anything to do with me.

  “No. It was Mrs. Deer.’’

  “I only got to meet her a few times. She was a lovely lady,’’ Miss. Watson grins, and then opens the envelope with our papers in them. “Here is your assignment. Most of the class already know how they’re going to work on their projects, but I wanted to come by and check in with you both before I leave you to do it. Do you have any idea how you’ll work on it?’’

  Kayla looks at me and from the corner of my eye I can tell she is panicked, but I give Miss a nod and smile.

  “Yeah, if it’s okay with Kayla she can come round mine to study. I haven’t thought much about it, but we did discuss the presentation and was wondering if I can do all the speaking?’’

  It’s worth a mention while we have the teacher’s main focus. I know Kayla isn’t going to like being in the spotlight, so may as well get this over with just in case the teacher is grading us on our speeches. It will give Kayla more time to prepare herself.

  “Not big on speaking in front of the class?’’

  Kayla shakes her head, no, not saying anything else and Miss. Watson looks at her more curious than before.

  “That’s fine. As long as you contribute somehow, like stand with him, hold up cards, or even press a button on a computer if you’re using Power Point, then its fine. Your topic is a difficult one. You’ll need to do a lot of research, and if you can get some interviews and back up your research that would be even better.’’

  “What’s our topic?’’ Kayla asks seeming more interested, but I can feel her leg bouncing up and down beneath the table.

  “Well, you’ll be writing a presentation and an essay on the effects and after effects of an abusive home. You’ll be finding out how it affects kids long term, like in relationships, jobs, having their own kids, and school and such. You can use your own experiences, or others, as long as it’s kept confidential,’’ she says smiling at us.

  “What makes you think I have experience?’’ Kayla squeaks, wide eyed.

  “Oh, I worded that wrong, I’m sorry. I know a little about Myles’ background,’’ Miss. Watson answers, wide eyed herself, struggling to explain.

  “Oh.’’ Kayla breathes, her body slumping back into the chair.

  “So, whatever you both feel comfortable with. Let me know your schedules when you work them out. I’ll need some idea on how much time you’ll spend on it. It won’t need to be completed until three weeks before school year ends, so it’s going to be no rush. Just make sure you put in the hours.’’

  “We will,’’ I grin, then grab the worksheets off her and put them in front of me and Kayla so we can both see them. “So, when shall we get started,’’ I grin, liking the fact I get to spend
more time with her over the next couple of months.

  Chapter Four

  KAYLA

  The first week of school passes really quickly. I’ve hung out with Myles a lot; it’s an excuse I’ve used for why I haven’t made any friends yet, but really, I like being with him. Sometimes I wonder if I’m getting in the way with him, but when I try to give him space he always seems to seek me out. If I get on his nerves he doesn’t show it.

  It’s a new week and after the weekend I’m glad to be at school. I need the work to keep my mind off things. My back is stiff when I sit down in my chair and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from whimpering.

  The bell has only just rang for registration. I got my dad to drop me off earlier than normal so I had time to get into class and take a seat without people wondering what was up with me, but also because I didn’t want anyone knocking into me to get to Max, mostly the girls that pour all over him.

  The pains in my side are burning and all I want to do is soak in a long, hot bath, or take a nice, long, hot shower, but dad wouldn’t let me have any more time off school. If only he knew why I really wanted the time off.

  My eyes flicker towards the classroom door, and I hate that my eyes search for him whenever he’s not around. When I try to focus on my English work, a noise at the door startles me. I lift my head in time to see Max walk in with a girl wrapped around his arm. It’s nothing I’ve not seen before, since I started back. In fact, I’m pretty much used to it now that whenever I see him with a girl, I just roll my eyes. I’m about to focus my attention back to my English work when the hairs on the back on my neck stand on edge, which can only mean one thing.

  Myles.

  My stomach drops when my eyes catch one of the girls from another registration class lift up to kiss him. Not able to stomach it, or the feeling it provokes inside my chest, I quickly look back down at the table. My chest hurts and I can feel my face redden and my eyes water. It’s not like I have the right to be jealous. I mean, I am jealous, right? This is what I’m feeling? God, how can I be so clueless? No wonder he doesn’t want to be with a girl like me, not when he has girls like her hanging off him.

 

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