Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 175455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 877(@200wpm)___ 702(@250wpm)___ 585(@300wpm)
How am I supposed to sit in class with him today?
How am I supposed to look at him ever again and not want to scream at him for being such a miserable liar?
I don’t know. I can’t think straight. Rather than send back a thoughtless, hasty response, I slide my cell phone into the pocket of my jeans and head into class. I’ve let him fuck up enough of my life. I have to try to clear my head so I can concentrate.
I’ll deal with Carter later.
Chapter 37
The morning passes in a foggy blur. Random memory assaults hit me at odd times—Carter and me tangled in the dark, his skin against mine the night he took my virginity. Sleeping over at his house this weekend, the way I woke up next to his warm body. The way he held me down in his living room and fucked me brutally, without mercy.
The faint stirring of lust should feel better than the sadness that has been following me around, but instead, it intensifies my loss. No more of that. No more of him.
I have to be done now. I know Carter needs firm boundaries, and if I say I’m not like Erika but I do exactly what she did, he’ll only keep hurting me. Carter is a predator, and that’s what predators do. I’m not even sure he can help it, not anymore.
There was no reason for him to do what he did. No reason that I can see anyway. None but the obvious one.
I don’t really matter to him. He’s not afraid to lose me. I am just another girl to him, but it’s the kind of thing you only realize in hindsight, not when you’re swept up in his lies. Carter only tells the truth when he’s tired of you and wants you to go away, just like he did with Erika. I don’t think he wants to get rid of me yet, so he’ll probably lie more, and I need to be braced for that. I know how convincing he can be. I have vivid recall of the night Erika first told me about this, the way Carter looked when he promised me nothing happened between them.
I knew Carter was a gamble, so I shouldn’t be so surprised I lost.
By the time I get to history class, I’m drained. It has been a long, sad, angering day, and I just want to go home and curl up in bed. Sleep off the disappointment. Sleep off Carter’s spell so I can get back to living my ordinary, Carter-less life.
I’ve spent so much of my day with this new reality already that I’m taken off guard when Carter stops by my desk, a smile on his face, a twinkle in his eyes like everything is normal. Then I realize it is for him. I’ve had to live with this new reality, but he doesn’t even know anything has changed. I didn’t text him back once I got to class late, and I didn’t text him after that because I didn’t want to.
“Hey, you,” Carter says, bending down to kiss me.
I should pull away or turn my head, but since I know it’s the last kiss I’ll get from him, I go ahead and take it. Closing my eyes for the briefest of moments, I kiss him back. Unexpectedly, the brush of his lips causes tears to sting behind my eyes. A fist of sadness seems to have punched me in the stomach. I pull back and look down at my desk, trying to get my bearings.
I shouldn’t have done that. I should have let whichever kiss we shared before I knew be the last one. It doesn’t matter that I can’t remember it. God willing, someday I won’t remember him.
I know that won’t happen, though. I’ll never forget Carter Mahoney. He may not reside inside me as a good memory, but he’ll certainly be there.
Carter touches my arm to get my attention. His dark brows are furrowed in confusion and he frowns. “Hey, you okay?”
His presence right now is unbearable. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the idea of having this conversation face-to-face. Maybe I should just text it to him. Maybe there’s no bravery in facing him, only more hurt. Only more chances for him to fill my head with bullshit. The smartest thing to do is probably to cut him off, to never listen to another word he says. Never speak another word to him.
“You should probably get to your seat,” I murmur, flipping open my notebook to a clean page. I grab my pen and write the date in the top right corner, doing my best to ignore Carter.
Rather than going to his seat, he squats down by my desk and frowns at me more intensely. “Zoey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”