by A. R. Perry
“Anyway. I just wanted to keep you in the loop.”
“I appreciate the call. Kind of a shame, though, because Blythe is over here working her magic. Might be my best outfit yet.”
I perk up, my heart doing a little hiccup. “Oh yeah?”
Piper giggles, most likely at the eagerness in my voice. “I shouldn’t have told her to go crazy, but I’m not gonna lie—I was looking forward to the expression on Cristy’s face. I’m kinda ashamed to admit that I’m out for a bit of revenge after her freak-out at lunch.”
My mouth goes dry, and it takes a few swallows before I can talk. If this outfit is anything like the shorts, maybe it’s best the party got canceled. I might not be able to keep my hands off her long enough to let her make a play for the quarterback.
“Now I guess this will be all for the guy scooping my toppings at Blizzard Yogurt.”
“Come over.” The words are out before I can stop them. I run a hand over my eyes, wincing and hoping she didn’t hear them, but she did. Shit, people across the street heard the desperation in my voice.
This is bad. I don’t want Piper at my house. To her, I’m sure it looks like a freaking hovel.
“What?” she giggles.
“I said…um…” Yeah, I got nothing. There’s no explanation as to why she needs to come over to my house all dolled up.
Unless…
“Come over and I’ll give you some pointers so when the next party rolls around you’ll be ready.”
It has to be the lamest excuse on the planet, but she doesn’t reject it. At least now I can try to save face.
“So, it would be just you and me?” Her voice takes on a soft, airy quality. One that frazzles me.
“Just you and me. My parents are out till at least midnight.” I lick my lips, trying my best to smother all the thoughts about us alone in the house trying to rise to the surface.
“If you think I need pointers then who am I to question you, Master Yoda?”
My heart kicks up a notch. Holy hell, did that excuse actually work?
“Six sound good?”
“Perfect. Blythe says she needs to finish my hair. Want me to pick us up some Froyo?”
“Sure.”
“You still into vanilla?”
“No. I think it’s time to change it up. Surprise me.”
For some reason, it feels as if we’re talking about more than yogurt here, but I’m trying not to read too much into it. After all, she is still after my best friend, so there’s no doubt this has disaster written all over it. At the moment, though, I don’t care if this ends in a fiery train wreck.
“Hey!” Piper whines.
“She’ll see you at six. Now can I please finish my masterpiece?” Blythe asks.
“Sure,” I chuckle. I can’t be too mad at Blythe. She’s the reason I’m getting a night alone with Piper.
“Bye, Carter.” She hangs up on me before I can respond.
I sit on the edge of my bed, looking at the black screen on my phone with a stupid grin on my face until reality sets in. It’s Nash’s birthday and here I am swooping in on Piper while he’s at home grounded. I’m not only a smitten idiot, but now I’m also breaking bro code. On top of that, I’ve invited Piper to my house. A house that wouldn’t even be fit for a barn on her property.
But there’s nothing I can do now except make this into the best situation possible. I’ll do exactly what I said and give her a few pointers for the next rager. Bottom line, with my group it isn’t far off.
What am I doing?
No, the real question is why did I let Blythe talk me into this? I swear she was happier than a kid at Christmas when the party was canceled. Because she has no boundaries, she had her ear pressed to the phone when Carter asked me to come over. And okay, part of me wanted to scream yes the second he asked. What’s scary, though, is that I’m drifting further and further away from the original plan. And my best friend is of little help when she’s silently yelling that I need to say yes.
For whatever reason, she’s still dead set on the idea that Carter is hot for me. I tried to argue if that was the case he wouldn’t have dipped out at lunch after forcing me to sit at his table, but she laughed and claimed it was a boy thing.
So, after another forty minutes of curling my hair into beautiful waves and applying another coat of shimmery pink lip gloss, she shoved me out the door and promised to wait around for the deets. Earlier in the week we’d planned a sleepover. Claire was supposed to come too after the party, but she texted with some lame excuse about needing to catch up on homework.
As the clock on the dashboard ticks over to five after six, I still can’t bring myself to climb out of the car. I’m wearing the most ridiculous outfit on the planet. Blythe made me change before coming over to Carter’s. Now I’m realizing I should have been more forceful with my no. Who casually hangs out in a sundress, anyway? Aren’t they for brunches or something? I look ridiculous. It’s a bit too short since it belonged to Blythe’s older sister. She left it behind when she moved out of state for college. She also has a way nicer rack than me, and all this deep V is doing is highlighting my lack of boobage.
A loud tap on the window makes me jump and slam my head into the roof. Carter is standing on the other side, trying not to laugh at the horrified expression on my face.
When I don’t make a move, he grins. “You gonna stay in there all night or come in?”
“I’m considering it.” I grip the steering wheel and lean into the soft leather seat, swinging my focus to the dented garage. Nerves rush in, freezing me up.
Stupid Blythe got into my head and put ideas in there that don’t belong. Carter doesn’t see me as anything more than an old friend, and even that’s a stretch. If he did, he wouldn’t have ignored me for almost three years. But now, with that seed planted, I can’t act normal. I don’t want to do anything to lead him on, even though nothing will ever happen between us.
He taps on the window again. “Get out of the car.” There’s laughter in his voice, but I’m not laughing.
Now would be the time to tell the truth.
“The yogurt is going to melt all over those fancy leather seats.”
I glance over at the white paper bag containing the Froyo I picked up on the way over here. The grin that forms is automatic. Something came over me while there, and I created two containers of the weirdest combination of ingredients. The first is my favorite flavor mint, but instead of going traditional I sprinkled on Fruity Pebbles, and M&M’s all smothered in marshmallow sauce. The second might be worse with peanut butter yogurt, Sour Patch Kids and chocolate sauce.The whole time I was piling things on I cringed, but hey, he said he was over vanilla and ready for a change. And these combinations, well, they’re about as likely to go together as him and me.
Seeing him eat those monstrosities might be worth getting out.
“I got takeout. You still like orange chicken, right?”
I nod, surprised he remembered. I used to beg my parents for it every night when we were younger. One time when he was over, my parents said no, and he snuck out only to return with a container for me. We sat together behind a tree in my backyard as I devoured it before dinner, then tried not to laugh when I couldn’t stomach a single bite of my mom’s meatloaf.
See. Blythe is off her rocker. Carter is a sweet guy. Helping me is just who he is. Who he’s always been.
I push open the door, handing over the bag of Froyo. “No peeking,” I say with a huge smile.
“Why am I suddenly scared?” He holds out the bag a couple of inches from his body as if it might explode at any second.
“Good intuition?” I slip past him and walk up the narrow path to the front door.
After all these years, nothing changed. An antique rocker still sits at the edge of the weathered front porch his mother would never let us use. And her garden must have fairies sprinkle magical dust on it every night to keep it looking so lush year-round. I turn around to see Carter watching me w
ith an air of apprehension.
“Everything is exactly the same.” I point to the garden. “Remember when your mom caught me picking flowers to make a crown? I thought she was going to ban me for life.”
Carter smiles, but there’s an edge. “That was the last time you came over.”
“Well, that’s only because you became Mr. Popular.” My words are light, but laced with an undercurrent of truth. “So, are we gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna let me in?” I throw out his earlier words, making him laugh.
Such a sexy laugh. His nose wrinkles up, and the skin around his eyes crinkles.
Ugh. Freaking Blythe. I shouldn’t be noticing these things.
“I’m considering it,” he says without missing a beat.
We stand in the middle of the walkway staring at each other with stupid grins on our faces until Carter shakes his head and brushes past me.
I kick off my borrowed heels at the front door. Blythe is going to kill me because according to her they complete the outfit, but I’m not lounging around the house in those things. For one thing, they are half a size too small and pinch my toes. And two, I’m not impressing anyone—least of all Carter—with the gangly way I walk in them.
Carter tilts his head to the right where the kitchen is. “I’ll put this in the freezer. The food is on the counter, but someone took so long to come inside it probably needs to be reheated.”
I cringe because I’m sure I looked like a total spaz sitting there staring at the house.
“Come on.” He lets me off the hook and walks into the kitchen.
It’s like coming home. Well, a second home.
I grin when I notice the old oak table we used to sit at to do homework. The windows are still adorned with the same red floral curtains that match the china set his mom got as a wedding gift. I’ve never once seen them used, but she keeps them on display in a cabinet against the far wall.
“Time warp,” I say, taking a seat at the table where Carter laid out all the food.
“Is that a good or bad thing?” He reaches into the pantry and pulls out paper plates.
“Good.” The food smells so amazing I can’t help but reach over and steal a pot sticker from the container.
A little moan slips out as I savor the amazing flavors. He got the good stuff from my favorite restaurant. My mom always said it was too far away and would order from someplace closer, but nothing compares. Ever. I would bathe in the sauce if I could.
“I would ask how it is but…” Carter’s eyebrows shoot up and I swear he’s blushing.
I should feel bad for the reaction, but foodgasms are a thing and so rare that I don’t see the point in apologizing.
“Still warm.” I take the plate from his outstretched hand and load it up. “I know I’m going to sound douchey for saying this because of how hard you’re working to help me out. But I’m not sorry the party was canceled. This is way better.”
Carter glances away. “Want something to drink?”
“Water is fine.” I take a giant bite of rice when his back is turned. Pretty sure going all Cookie Monster on this food isn’t the look that Blythe had planned. “So, oh great teacher, what’s the lesson plan for tonight?”
He places a water bottle in front of me and sits down. “I was thinking…you seemed to do okay at the party—”
“The party where Nash hardly acknowledged my existence?” I laugh.
“Oh, he noticed,” Carter mumbles as he reaches for the container of noodles.
“Can you repeat that so the whole class can hear?”
“Anyway.” He piles about as much food as I did onto his plate. “I figure I can answer whatever questions you have and set you free. You scored an invite to our table. Nash invited you to his birthday in front of everyone. You’re pretty much in.”
My heart rate kicks up and I don’t know if it’s because my plan is working or because this seems as if Carter is dumping me. Well, not dumping because we aren’t together, but cutting off our new friendship. It seems as if he’s trying to let me down easy.
“Do you not want to hang out with me anymore?” I ask, pushing around the food on my plate, not hungry all of a sudden.
“What? No, of course I do. This has been fun.” He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “But there’s not much else I can do. You’ve always had it in your power to be popular, you chose not to.”
I pinch my lower lip between my thumb and pointer finger. No clue what planet he’s been living on, but on Earth, I’ve been labeled a nerd since I was old enough to read. Sure, I could have all the newest clothes and be that Insta girl, but none of those things ever interested me. I just want to have a fun time and I don’t care if that involves driving around screaming along with the radio or sitting on the couch watching a movie in sweatpants.
I grin and Carter cocks an eyebrow at me, probably wondering if I’m insane. It’s a fair question, and the verdict is still out, but I just had an awesome idea. While Carter is helping me fit into his world, what if I gave him a dose of mine?
“That look can’t be good,” Carter says.
“We’re not done with this thing because I’m helpless when it comes to your crowd, judging by how I froze up when Cristy was ready to scratch my eyes out.” He opens his mouth, most likely to argue his point, but I push on before he can. “But also I think it’s time you take a break from Mr. Cool and kick it Piper style.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Do you have a pair of sweats and a T-shirt I can borrow?”
His eyebrows arch so high they’re almost touching his hairline. “Sure…”
“Grab them and I’ll relocate the food. Change into something grubby and meet me there.” I stand and start gathering the food, taking his plate from him before he tries to argue. “Go. I promise this will be awesome. The party is dead so we might as well have a nice chill night and you can still answer whatever questions I have.”
I might have stunned him into silence because he stands up and walks away without a word. Blythe will be pissed when she finds out I ditched the dress for sweatpants, but whatever.
While Carter is changing, I move all the food to the table and find the remote for the TV. I’m pulling up Netflix when he walks back in and sucks all the air out of the room. He’s sporting a pair of low-slung gray sweats that give a hint of that oh-so-sexy V between his hipbones and his hair is a ruffled mess.
I try not to drool as he walks toward me. I get it now. This is why all the girls are always chasing him—why Cristy had a conniption when she thought we were more than friends.
He holds out a pile of clothes that I take without a word because there’s no telling what might spill out of my mouth if I try to speak.
“Bathroom is down the hall. First door on your left in case you don’t remember.”
“T-thanks.” I head in the direction he’s pointing, catching a soft chuckle from him as I round the corner.
If he didn’t think I was a spaz before, he for sure does now.
I lock myself in the bathroom and lean against the door, trying and failing to get my heartbeat to slow down.
This is bad. Really bad.
All I wanted to do was prove a point to John. I never intended to develop, well, anything for Carter. It’s Carter. Unattainable and so out of my league, Carter. If he even guessed where my mind is at, he would laugh me out of his house.
I tap my head against the cold wood of the door a few times and I try to psych myself up. Nothing needs to change. Nothing has changed. We’re going to gorge on food and watch a movie and tomorrow I’ll wake up and be the same old Piper who doesn’t have a crush on Carter Jackson.
Because I don’t.
I can’t.
I slip out of the sundress and into Carter’s loaner clothes, trying not to notice the way the T-shirt smells musky and woodsy. If he’s already worn this shirt, I might die right here—Melt into a pile of goo and sink into the cracks, hopefully never to be found again.<
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A knock on the door jolts me and I end up slamming my hand into the soap bottle, sending it skittering across the counter.
“You okay in there?” Carter asks.
“Yup. Yeah. Be out in a second.”
Kill me now.
I take a deep breath and hold it. It does nothing to calm me down, but it’s not as if I can hide in here all night. So, I plaster on a fake smile and throw my shoulders back before whipping open the door and plowing right into Carter.
My eyes widen and I choke on a shriek as he steadies me with a firm grip on my waist.
I assumed he went into the other room to wait for me.
“Whoa. I’m supposed to be the running back, remember? I don’t need people finding out a short stack like you can take me out.” He grins his stupid, sexy, infuriating grin, and I want to burst into flames.
My cheeks must be the color of my hair by now. Nothing like transforming into a giant red blob right before someone’s eyes to turn them off completely.
“Ready for that movie?” I squeak out before turning away from him and racing into the living room.
God, I hate Blythe. If she never put the thoughts about Carter being sexy in my head, I wouldn’t be having this issue.
I take a seat on the couch, the farthest away from the table, hoping he’ll want to be close to the food and curl my feet underneath my butt.
Carter walks into the room, a look of pure confusion on his face, and I don’t blame him. This whole Netflix and chill was my idea. I’m such an idiot. Not only does it seem as if I’m throwing myself at him, but then I went and physically threw myself at him.
And I won’t even touch the whole him believing I want his friend charade.
The boy must be confused six ways to Sunday.
He grabs the remote and sits down on the middle cushion, leaving one between us. “I didn’t know what you wanted to watch…” He’s not even looking at me as he scrolls through all the titles on the screen.
I should go.
I should get up and grab my shoes and leave before I make this any worse.
“This is weird,” he says before glancing my way.