A God in Carver (Carver High #1)

by Haven Francis

  “Congratulations on your article. It was hilarious and totally enduring. I didn’t even know August was a painter, much less an award winning one. And that whole paragraph about his home life on the farm and the fact that he’s a vegetarian because he can’t stand watching the pigs getting slaughtered just made me want to hug him.”

  Unbeknownst to her, or the rest of the school, there is a strategy in place. One that will start with An Anomaly in Carver: the kid who doesn’t fit the stereotypical football profile and cares about things other than sports. One that will progress through profiles of the big five: August, Colby, Reggie, Nash and Brandon. Each one exposing more and becoming increasingly controversial. Ending with the kid Summer’s in love with. The kid I’m starting to care about enough to rethink running the article. Again. “Thanks. I had some help. Do you know Angel?”

  “Yeah,” Summer says, smiling brightly at him. “We have a lot of classes together.”

  “That’s right, you’re an AP geek like him.”

  He’s uncharacteristically quiet so I look at him. He’s staring at Summer like he’s hypnotized and his face is flushed. “You know Summer, right? She’s one of my popular, mainstream friends?” I say, reminding him that he’s too cool to be lusting after her.

  He glares at me, but the corner of his mouth is telling me he’s trying to suppress a smile. When he turns back to Summer he’s regained his composure. “Don’t listen to her,” Angel says, “She’s just jealous of us AP geeks because she still can’t figure out complicated expressions.”

  “Parenthesis are key.”

  “See,” Angel says, slapping my arm. “I told you. Anyway, you probably don’t have to worry about that. I think you found your calling. And I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he addresses Summer, “the only help she got from me was a second opinion which basically consisted of the words, ‘yup, looks good’.”

  “She was always a good writer. She used to write love poems about Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain when we were kids. They usually made me cry.”

  “No shit, huh?” Angel says, laughing. “Tatum Austin writing love poems. I had no idea you were a romantic.”

  “I can be, but only if the object of my affection is already dead and therefore unattainable.”

  “That’s some deep, dark shit, Austin,” he says shaking his head. “Okay ladies, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I gotta go. I’ll catch you at the game tonight?” he asks me.

  “I’ll be there with bells on,” I say unenthusiastically.

  “Later, Summer,” he says before walking away.

  She waves at him then says, “Did I hear that right? You’re planning on coming to the game?”

  “Apparently it’s part of my job now, you know as the official sports reporter for The Carver Observer. Working on Friday nights is pointless anyway: the whole town is at the game so I don’t make any money.”

  “That’s great. I bet Nash is so excited.”

  “I think he’s afraid that I’m gonna end up pissing people off just like I do whenever he forces me to go to anything football related.”

  She laughs. “How much harm can you really do from the stands?”

  “Summer Brooks, you are speaking to a very important member of the press. I have field access.” A look of terror passes over her face and I can’t help but laugh at it. “But, as tempting as it is, I’m not gonna use it. I’ll be safely in the stands with Angel.”

  She recovers from her fear and then smiles at me. “Are you coming to the party at Jolee’s afterward?”

  “Being in her house is the last thing I want to do, but yeah, I suppose now that I am a regular old football obsessed citizen of Carver I’m obligated to go.”

  “She’s not as bad as you think she is.”

  “You know it’s okay to talk shit about people every once in a while, don’t you?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Really. I mean, you can practically see the desperation rolling off her, and she’ll screw her best friend over if she wants her man, and her laugh is ear piercing, but really, Tatum, she’s got a good heart.”

  “Yeah? That’s what people say about me.”

  “You do have a good heart.”

  “Which means, Tatum is a huge bitch who feels the need to have her stomach perpetually exposed and yes, she is white trash but, you know, she’s got a big heart,” I say in my sweetest voice.

  “If I had your stomach I would have it perpetually exposed too. And I wouldn’t call you a bitch, I would say you’re just a lot more secure than the rest of us and you don’t feel the need to pretend to be someone you’re not just so people will like you. And if someone calls you white trash all that means is that they are stuck up, judgmental brats who are jealous of you.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk. But like you said, I don’t really care if any of these people like me.”

  “I wish I could say that. I mean, how do you do that? How can you honestly not care what people think about you?”

  “I probably have Brandon to thank for that. I used to care. I used to pretend to be someone I wasn’t so that kids would like me. But in eighth grade when everyone hated me, just because they thought you and Brandon did, I learned pretty quickly that there was nothing I could do to make people like me. I learned pretty quickly who the people were that actually cared about me. In my case, it was Nash, my mom, Tally and her girlfriends. Which was fine because I realized they were all I needed. In fact, I was happier knowing that I didn’t need any of those other kids at school. That it didn’t matter what they thought about me because the most important people in my life would love me regardless. It was freeing.”

  Summer gives me a sad smile. “You know, I tried pretty hard to stay in your life that year.”

  “I know you did, but every time the three of us were forced to be in a room together you had to decide who you were going to stand by and it was Brandon. Every time.”

  “I thought you knew why he was treating you that way. I thought it was you who had made the choice and that you chose Nash over Brandon. It hurt, losing you. I would have done just about anything to hold onto you but I couldn’t leave him all alone and you had Nash….”

  “It’s fine, Summer. I would probably just be another sheep doing everything in my power to make sure my fellow students loved me if it wasn’t for what happened. Hell, I might even be tromping around this school is some ridiculous red and black cheerleading uniform if it wasn’t for what happened between the four of us.”

  “Ah,” she gasps like she’s hurt, throwing a tater tot at me.

  I duck and tell her, “Don’t get mad, it’s not a bad thing. You are who you are and I am who I am and all is right in the world.”

  “So you don’t hate me or think I’m some stupid, shallow, fake princess?”

  “I don’t hate you. We know you’re not stupid. I’ve known you since you were too young to pretend to be anyone but yourself and you can’t help that yourself is an overly optimistic, virtuous, peppy princess.”

  She bites her lip and narrows her eyes like she’s pondering my words. “That’s fine. I’ll take it. I’m okay with being happy.”

  “You should be,” I tell her. “There aren’t many people in this world who are genuinely happy. You’re lucky you’re one of them.”

  Brandon and Nash come to our table then, followed by the rest of the guys and Summer’s fellow cheerleaders.

  “How sweet is this? I get to eat lunch with my girl,” Nash says, straddling the bench and putting his big hands around my waist.

  “Thanks to Angel, I no longer have to spend my lunch hour in the library trying to get my homework done.”

  “He’s your prince charming, huh? Rescued you from your tower?”

  I don’t have a chance to respond because August is on the other side of me tapping on my shoulder. “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for writing that article. Despite the fact that these closed minded insecure jocks are riding my ass about the whole artist and vegetar
ian thing, you made me sound a whole lot more interesting than I really am. I got girls, who can appreciate an enlightened man, all over me today.”

  “Just wait until my profile comes out,” Colby says. “They’ll forget all about your sorry ass.”

  “But after she’s done with all of you there’ll only be one man on everyone’s mind,” Reggie says, loudly. “It’s like a progression from worst to best, which means mine will be running after all of your boring little stories.” He pauses to slap hands with everyone within slapping distance before asking me, “You’re running Reggie last, right Austin?”

  I roll my eyes at his cocky assumption. “No, Reggie. You’re before Nash and Brandon. And you clearly don’t understand how writing works, ‘cause you’re wrong about the progression. You start with one of the best, you know, to pull the readers in. Then it’s kind of a decline ‘till you get to the middle… where you’re profile will be… then you start to build it again and end strongly.”

  Everyone at the table laughs and gives Reggie a dose of his own shit.

  “You don’t fuck with my girl,” Nash says loudly, pulling me under his arm.

  When I turn I see Brandon smirking at me. I smile back at him and he shakes his head and lets out an amused laugh. “I’ve missed you,” he says quietly.

  “I could live without Reggie, but I kind of missed you guys too,” I admit.

  14

  “So now that you are willingly attending football functions does that mean we can assume there is no chance I’m gonna be making out with Missy Wextrom under the bleachers and we can give this whole commitment thing another go?” Nash says to me after shooting his beer can off the fence post.

  Last night was actually fun. I forgot how intense and thrilling it is to watch your team fight tooth and nail for a victory, which Carver secured, thanks mostly to Brandon, Nash and Reggie. Even Angel was totally into it.

  And, despite the fact that Jolee was there, the party at her house was a good time. Mainly because I got to watch the disappointment on the girl’s faces at my appearance because it meant Nash wasn’t paying attention to anyone but me. And I have to admit that the sex we had last night was better than it’s been in a while because it was a total turn on watching his fine ass dominate Otsego’s offense.

  Nash comes to where I’m sitting on his open tailgate and plants his body between my thighs. “I think what we have is pretty perfect. I don’t see any sense in messing with it,” I answer him.

  “Let me ask you something Tatum. Do you have a strong desire to bring another man home to your bed?”

  “Unlike you, you’re the only person I’m sleeping with.”

  “I hate to ruin my reputation but you’re the only person I’m sleeping with, too.”

  I laugh at him. “Starting when? Last night?”

  “Since the beginning of last summer. Contrary to what you think, I don’t need to get it in with someone seven nights a week and, at the risk of boosting your already inflated ego, no one’s ever gonna do for me what you do for me and you’re the only one I want.”

  “Sounds like we’re both damn happy and we don’t need a label.”

  “That’s your opinion. When girls ask me if I have a girlfriend I would like to tell them yes. That would make me damn happy.”

  “The kind of girls you mess around with, present company excluded, don’t care if you have a girlfriend or not.”

  “Do it for me then. Be my girl for me.”

  “What does this entail… being your girlfriend?”

  “I hate to break it to you, Tatum, but not much is going to change. I love you. We spend all our spare time together and I sleep in your bed most nights. I’m closer to you than anyone else in my life. I would do anything for you. Hell, we’re practically married. The girlfriend label shouldn’t scare you, all things considered.”

  “It doesn’t scare me. But I think it will scare you. You can have any girl you want in Carver, except for me. I think once the thrill is gone you’ll move on to your next chase. And if I give in and become your girlfriend, I think the fact that I’m the only one you can have, even if you’re not taking advantage of your freedom at the moment, will make you feel claustrophobic.”

  “You’re stupid, you know that? If that’s the reason you won’t let me have you then you are just plain stupid. You should know me better than that. You should trust me more than that. You’re not just some girl to me, Tatum. You’re not just some conquest. You’ve been the center of my universe for five years. You’ve always been the girl that no other girl will ever live up to. I’ve been chasing your ass for five years. I would think you’d have the sense to realize that you’re it for me. You’re all I want and I think it’s about time you let me actually have you.”

  I reach my arms around his neck and smile at him. “Damn, Carter, you don’t have a lot of words, but when you use them you use them well.”

  “You bring out the best in me, Tatum. You always have.”

  “You bring out the best in me too, Nash,” I tell him, staring into his pleading eyes. “What the hell? Yes. If it really means that much to you, if you are so desperate to get yourself a ball and chain, then yeah, why not. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

  “Yeah? You’re not fucking with me?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to present me with your letterman jacket or something?”

  “I’m not that kind of boyfriend,” he says, grabbing a hold of my hips and hoisting me into the bed of his truck. “You’re my girlfriend and that means I get to make sweet love to you so yeah, I’ll present you with something, but it ain’t gonna be no jacket.”

  “Oh my God, Nash Carter, I think I just fell in love.”

  15

  Summer and I have found ourselves out in the dark of night, under a blanket of stars and a full moon, far enough away from the pole barn at the back of the Carter’s lot that the loud voices and music are undistinguishable. I hold her warm body in mine, content to have her all to myself.

  “I’m gonna miss watching you play every Friday night,” she says, turning her head to kiss my jaw.

  “I don’t want to think about that, Summer. School just stared. We have the whole year together.”

  “You’re talking like you’re not even considering playing for Penn State.”

  I hold her tighter and lower my head so that I’m covered with her sweet scent. She always smells the same; like honey and lilacs. It’s comforting. “I can’t think about any of that right now. I have to focus on getting through this season.”

  “So you are still thinking about it… coming to Pennsylvania with me?”

  “Of course I am. I can’t imagine being without you.”

  “No matter what you decide it’s not gonna matter ‘cause I’m never gonna let you go, even if you are thousands of miles away from me.”

  “I won’t be that far away. I promise you. I don’t want to talk about being away from you right now.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we talk about the feature Max Sports ran about you today or one of the multiple passes you threw for touchdowns tonight?” she says sweetly, sitting up from my arms and turning to straddle me, a sexy smile on her lips.

  “You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” I tease her. Summer’s always been my biggest cheerleader.

  “No, Mr. Eastman, I can’t.”

  “I love you. You know that?”

  “Of course I do. You’ve told me every day of my life since the ninth grade.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s true. It’s been true every one of those days.”

  “Well good, ‘cause I love you too and I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

  I pull her to me and wrap her up in my arms. I’ve been holding this same body for over three years but it never gets old. She’s soft and warm and she melts into my body as I kiss her. “Let’s go inside, check out Nash’s bed,” I tell her.

  She giggles at my suggestion. “I would make love to you just about anywhere, Brandon, but not in Nash’s bed.�
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  “Yeah, you’re right,” I agree. “I don’t know how he gets Tatum to sleep there. The amount of body fluid on his sheets that haven’t been washed… maybe ever is...”

  “Eww. Why do you have to go and mess up my visions of getting you naked with thoughts of Nash’s dirty sheets?” she asks, slapping me on my shoulder.

  “You’re having visions of me naked?”

  “No. Not anymore. Now all I can envision is what Nash’s bed would look like under a black light.”

  I laugh before whispering, “Close your eyes.”

  She smirks at me before doing what I ask. I undo the top two buttons of her shirt and kiss the top of her breast. She exhales a satisfied breath. I kiss her lightly over her collar bone and up her neck, across her jaw and to her ear. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, Summer Brooks,” I whisper and her body shivers. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world ‘cause I’m the only one who’s gotten to see this perfect body completely naked and there is not a sight in this world more perfect than that.”

  “Do you think I’m sexy?” she asks in a flirty voice.

  “Your body is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to see it. All of it. Now,” I tell her before running my tongue down her ear.

  She lets out a quiet moan then tells me. “Okay, but not in…. I’m not even gonna say it.”

  I laugh, then stand us up. “Let’s take a drive.”

  She takes a moment to get her breathing under control and her shirt adjusted before taking my hand. “You know you could have had any vehicle in the entire car lot. I wish you would have had enough sense to choose a larger one. A sedan at least. Can you imagine all the things we could have done if you had gotten yourself a Suburban? With tinted windows?”

  “You’re getting picky? At least I have a car. And a license for that matter.” Summer’s parents, as nice as they are, are strict as hell. Not only does she not have a license, but her curfew is ten o’clock except on game nights. She’s required to be at church two hours on Sunday and two hours on Wednesday, dance and gymnastics on Tuesdays and Thursdays, two academic extracurriculars at all times and that’s on top of the hours she has to put into cheer and keeping her GPA above a 4.0. She doesn’t seem to mind it. In fact she loves being with her parents and her little brothers. She chooses not to drink or ingest anything that could harm her body. She always makes the right decisions. I should consider myself damn lucky that she gave her virginity to me when we were sixteen and that she’s willing to have sex with me just about anytime I want her to. Even if, ninety percent of the time, it happens in the cramped interior of my Mustang.