A God in Carver (Carver High #1)

by Haven Francis

  We were inseparable from that very first day. We didn’t spend a minute apart. Quickly, he became the center of my universe and I can’t tell you how awesome that universe was. If you have never had a person that was willing to do anything for you, to be everything for you, to give up anything for your sake, to put your happiness and your wellbeing before their own, I can tell you, you haven’t lived. You don’t know what real, true love feels like and seriously, that’s what living is all about.

  Of course I didn’t realize what I had when I was a child. But the effects of the love he gave me were far reaching and all-consuming and if there was a shitty life I was living in the middle of… I didn’t see it. All I saw was him. All I felt was the reflection of what he saw when he looked at me. Brandon was the best kind of life to be living in the center of and because of him, my life growing up was ideal. It didn’t matter what crappy things I did have or what normal, necessary things I didn’t have, because I had him and he was more than enough.

  He’s the reason that, to this day, I’m stable. He’s the reason I have self-worth. He’s the reason I’m secure with myself. He’s the reason for everything good in my life.

  So at this point you might be wondering, why. Why would I write that article about him? How could I do that to him?

  Imagine feeling that way about someone – they’re everything to you; your entire life, every person that should be in your life but isn’t – one person is carrying all of that weight and doing such and excellent job that you don’t even realize important, necessary thing are missing.

  And then they leave you.

  And you don’t know why.

  And the world looks so different. All the bad things are now devastatingly clear. And you don’t recognize your life or yourself.

  It happened when I was twelve, weeks shy of thirteen. So yeah, years ago. But absorbent, all-consuming amounts of love deserve equal amounts of hate. And that’s what I had for Brandon. Enough hate to span five years.

  And it was only exasperated by the fact that, thanks to my new position on the paper, he was back in my life. I let him in like he had never left. And not only him but the best girlfriend I’ve ever had who – through no fault of her own – left me when Brandon did… Summer Brooks.

  But I lost them again.

  And somehow I also lost the one guy who stood by my side when everyone else left – Nash Carter.

  I have to pause here and address him. The infamous Nash Carter. Who none of you really know. Currently I don’t like him very much and I know a lot of you share my sentiment but it wouldn’t be right for me to negate what he’s done for me. When I had no one, he stood by my side. He was as much a part of my childhood as Brandon, albeit in completely different and much more basic, tangible way. To sum it up: he was pretty much my first everything. And despite the fact that currently I don’t love him at all, there were a lot of years when I loved him more than anything and… I forgive him. And someday I hope that we can regain the friendship our past was born from.

  Things between the four of us are messy and complicated and convoluted enough as it is so I won’t drag them into this. They know what we had. They lived the same childhood that I did and they know how unbelievably perfect it was.

  So, no disrespect to you as the reader, but they’re who I want to apologize to: the twelve year old versions of myself, Brandon, Summer and Nash.

  I wish I would have tried harder. I wish I wouldn’t have been so easily deceived. I wish I wouldn’t have let go so easily. I wish that we hadn’t lost all those years. I hope that we can make up for them because those were the best years of my life and I have a feeling that they were the best of your lives too. I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry.

  Sincerely,

  Tatum Austin

  I don’t set the paper down when I’m done reading it, I take a minute to get my emotions under control.

  Class is carrying on around me, but even after I feel most of the eyes that were staring at me retreating, I still can’t concentrate. I stand and head towards the door. When Mrs. Lynch pauses her lecture to look at me all I can do is hold up August’s copy of The Observer. She gives me the slightest nod so I head out of the room.

  When I get to the library and see Tatum and Angel at their regular table I practically run to her. I register her startled expression before picking her up out of her chair and wrapping my arms around her, the knot in my stomach finally unwrapping because she’s here, in my arms and we’re not gonna waste one more second of our lives together. She’s not gonna be the bitter angry girl that I helped turn her into. Never again.

  “I told you he wouldn’t be pissed,” Angel says.

  I unwrap Tatum so that I can look at her. “Pissed?”

  She gives me a coy smile as she sits back down in her chair. I sit down next to her and look at her expectantly.

  “I didn’t know how to explain what I had done without letting people into our personal life, without talking about what we had gone through. I figured you might be pissed.”

  “I am a little pissed. Every time I think about the years that we lost it pisses me off.”

  “It really is kind of tragic,” Angel agrees.

  Tatum slaps him on the arm. “We don’t need your commentary. And it’s not tragic. It’s just life. It was a mistake, a misunderstanding. Without it we might not have known how much we really need each other. Who knows, we might have just remained friends. There are dozens of possible outcomes. Maybe this was the only way we could have ended up with this one.”

  “You’re probably right,” I agree. “I don’t really like that most of your firsts happened with Nash though.”

  “I don’t really like that all of your firsts happened with Summer. But the only firsts that really matter happened with you. You are the first boy that I ever loved. You were my first friend. Most of the things we did together as kids were firsts for me. You are my first memory.”

  “God, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she says before leaning into me and whispering into my ear, “If it makes you feel any better, you did all kinds of things to me this weekend that were firsts.”

  Heat spreads through my body with her words and if it weren’t for the fact that Angel is in my personal space, I would probably revisit some of those firsts on this table. “I couldn’t agree more. And, Tatum, there are so many things I want to do with you.”

  “There’s a world full of firsts just waiting for us,” she agrees. And god, is she right.

  It all starts now. I feel like the pause button has been on for the last five years of my life and now it’s finally time to start living again. The person I was; the man who loved football and Summer, I’ll never forget about him or the life he lived but everything is so clear now. I’ve just been waiting, for this moment. For Tatum and I to begin again.

  EPILOGUE

  As I pull into the lot I’m pumping myself up to be Nash, carefully pulling on the mask that will show people I don’t give a shit. About anything. Especially not Carver’s new golden couple. The idea of Tatum with Brandon sends a sharp spike of rage through my body and I lose myself in it for a second, pushing my palms into my face and releasing a frustrated cry into my hands. When I remove them I realize there is a person standing outside the passenger side of my car. I look over and see Summer. She points to the lock on my door and, reluctantly, I reach over and pop it so she can open the door.

  I look away as she climbs in, trying to pull myself together. As she shuts the door the cab of my truck is immediately overtaken by her fresh, clean scent. It smells wrong. “What are you doing in here, Summer?” I ask her. She and I have technically been friends since Tatum started bringing her around when I was eight but unlike the connection I had with Brandon and Tatum and the connection they both had with Summer, the two of us never really clicked. This is not typical Summer behavior – putting herself in a position where she’s alone with me.

  “I don’t know,” she admits. I pick up on t
he fact that her sing-song voice is more of a dull buzz. “I was trying to mentally prepare to go into that school where I will be greeted by the site of Brandon and Tatum together and I saw you and the misery on your face was too tempting to pass up. I need a minute to be miserable too I guess.”

  “I’m not miserable, Summer. They’re the miserable ones. Tatum is just another you now, which sucks for her.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” she says and I look at her now. I can feel the shock on my face and hear the laughter roll out of my mouth. I’ve never heard Summer curse. “It sucks having to look at the two of them. It sucks having to pretend like we’re fine, like we don’t care that they are happier than they’ve ever been knowing we couldn’t make them happy. It sucks that ever since that article came out the entire school is pro Brandon and Tatum and expects us all to be B.F.F. again.”

  I snort at that. That fucking article. “Whatever, Summer. You and Brandon had something that Tatum and I never did. I hate to break it to you, but I really don’t give a shit.”

  “Will you just stop, please? I mean, if we have to be all non-affected around them, around everyone in that school, can you please just be real with me. Can you maybe be the one person I don’t have to pretend around, who gets what I’m going through? Who understands that those two are perfect for each other and that they always have been and we were just a bump on their road to happy ever after? I’m falling apart and I just need you to fall apart with me. Just for a minute before we have to go in there.” I stare at Summer, at her chest that is heaving with the effects of her anxiety. The look on her face; her parted lips, her heavy eyes, her tense jaw, is the result of her pent up frustration but it looks damn close to the look girls get when I’m satisfying them.

  I manage to pull my eyes away from her and try to think about some other girl. One who can give me what I need, which is a couple hours of mind numbing satisfaction that will help me forget about Tatum for a while. I stare out my window watching plenty of girls pass. None of them looking like they have the potential to look as hot in the heat of ecstasy as the girl in my passenger seat does. Or as sexy as the girl who I lived out all of my naked fantasies with.

  Summer’s labored breaths start snaking through my brain and the visuals I’m creating- her eyes turning wild; her long, shiny hair swaying back and forth with her body as she rides me; her soft, golden skin shining with sweat from her efforts- are making it hard to not pull her on top of me. Which will for sure get me a slap in the face.

  But then it all disappears as I see Presley crossing the lot. That girl has the ability to take all my pleasure away in an instant. I’ve never met anyone as miserable as that girl. The expression on her face is hard like it always is. She stomps across the lot like she’s on her way to rip some guy’s balls off, which she probably is.

  I’m only distracted by her large breasts bouncing under her oversized sweater for a second. As she passes by, my eyes travel down to her full ass that is clear as day in the tight, black pants she’s wearing; her thin legs the only indication that she is not, in fact, the chubby girl her baggy shirts lead you to believe she is. She throws her back pack over her shoulders before pulling out her thick, dark hair that’s streaked with red- letting everyone know she’s got some she-devil in her. It falls over her backpack, covering up the top of the skull and crossbones it looks like she drew. Internally I laugh at that; it looks like those stickers they put on poison, which is exactly what she is.

  From the minute she showed up in this town I haven’t been able to shake her and her mouth that is so big and feisty it rivals Tatum’s. And her favorite subject to bitch and complain about is apparently me. She’s never had a problem letting me know what exact color and sized piece of shit she thinks I am. Hell, she’s even yapping to my booty call, my sure thing, the girl who will give it up to me anywhere and anytime – her cousin Jolee. I’ve never hated anyone – not even Tatum or Brandon – more than I’ve hated that girl.

  “Fine, ignore me. What the hell do I care?” Summer’s voice registers after Presley has exited my line of sight.

  “Sorry,” I tell her, reaching out my hand to stop her from leaving my truck. “I’m distracted. And you’re right. I’m fucking pissed off and if you need someone to be pissed off with I can do that for you.”

  Summer gnaws on her bottom lip, I’m guessing as she thinks over whether I’m worthy of being her commiserating buddy. It’s damn cute, the way she’s chewing on her lip. “You want to hang out tonight? We can get some beer and go to the bridge? Or, I don’t know, just do something, anything that will distract me for a while?”

  My mind immediately goes where it shouldn’t and I know that Summer isn’t looking at me as anything more than a sound board, a hiding place. “Sure. Why don’t you meet me at the bridge after practice? I’ll bring a bottle of something.”

  She lets out a breath of relief then tells me, “Thank you,” before getting out of the cab. As she passes around the front she gives me a cheerful wave, her carefully constructed smile back on her face.

  I do my best to construct my own mask before stepping out of my truck.

  As I walk into school I can immediately feel Tatum’s presence. As much as I want to break my connection to her it’s still there, fully intact and I’m hyper aware, just like I’ve been since I was twelve, of where she is at all times. My instincts still tell me to fight for her. It’s a daily struggle, sitting behind her in math or across from her in the cafeteria, to not plead my case again. To not shake her and try to make her realize that even tough Brandon is better for her, I’m the one she’s meant to be with.

  But I have too much pride for that. She’ll figure it out eventually after school is over and he, along with her new best friend- Angel- have left her to go on to bigger and better things and she’s left behind. Here. With me. Where she belongs. I’m guessing she’s gonna get tired of his boring ass before then anyway. I’ll let him make her realize how good we were together, how perfect we are for each other, how much she loves me. He’s the pussy who will lay down for her, beg her to stay with him. That’s not me. I mean, hell, I had my moments when she left me but never again will I beg her, or any woman for that matter, for anything. She can get in line with all the other girls and be the one who’s doing the pleading.

  I head to some of those girls. Colby and Reggie deviate from Brandon’s circle to come join me. Jolee is always the first one to steak her claim on me in the morning. Never failing to tell me my hair looks good or she likes the way my t-shirt fits me or that my ass looks fine in my jeans. Her hands always assist her words, running through my hair, running down my muscles or grabbing onto my ass. If I were smart I would start something real with her. She makes it known that she would be my sexual servant and general slave if I would have her. Which I have, all kinds of times. And in bed too, she’s reliable. She’s not needy or selfish. She goes out of her way to pleasure me in all the ways she thinks I deserve to be pleasured. I like having sex with her. But she never has, and never will be, Tatum. Not in bed, not outside of bed, not even close. The thought that no one will ever compare to her is depressing.

  I blame Summer for the fact that I’m sitting here, while being ogled by a crowd of hot girls, thinking about nothing but Tatum. About the fact that I will never have more in common with, never have as much fun with, never be as comfortable with, never love or even like someone as much as I do Tatum.

  I don’t want them too, but my eyes wander, finding her in Brandon’s crowd. The week after she came back from L.A. she was happier than I had ever seen her. It was the happiest I had ever been too, despite the fact that I felt guilty as hell for cheating on her and that all I wanted was for my best friend to get the hell out of my life because his accusatory eyes were a constant reminder of what I had done to her.

  When she left me I was pretty damn certain that she’d never be that happy again, but she looks elated as she stands next to Brandon. Her fucking boyfriend. And he looks even happier if that’s possib
le.

  And what’s not to be happy about? He’s got everything. And now he has her too. She wore his jersey to school last Friday and was cheering so loud from the stands I could actually hear her. He’s living in her damn house. I’m sure Trish and Tally have accepted him into their family like they once accepted me. He’s getting it in with her every night and I know how good that is. Especially in the beginning. If she ever made me feel like she didn’t give a shit about me outside of that room, it was all worth it once that door was closed. The way her body connected to mine was worth it. The way she can kiss a man was worth it. The sight of her perfect body, the way she knew how to move that damn body was so worth it. And now it’s all his.

  As I stare at her bad thoughts start to cloud my brain. The kind that I used to have to force out so I could be worthy of Tatum.

  But now I don’t have anyone I have to be anything for.

  I close my eyes and let that thought settle in my brain and feel a smile creeping in. Freedom. As I stand here in the halls of my school, I wonder if it’s finally time.

  To let her go. To let her be happy. With him.

  Fuck. That thought is depressing.

  But at the same time it would be a damn relief. God, a life without Tatum. One where what she’s doing with Brandon doesn’t eat away at me. One where I’m really free to do what I want, sleep with who I want… maybe even love who I want. I laugh out loud at that idea and Tatum finally looks at me. She gives me a quizzical look and cocks her head. I shake my head and think I’m done. I’m fucking done. For real this time. As good as what we had was, nothing is better than this feeling. Fucking freedom. Maybe Brandon was right. Maybe this is all I’ve ever wanted and, really, it’s something I’ve never had – not since the two of them walked into my life. He can have you, you can live that vanilla life with him because you don’t fucking deserve me and… I’m done.