In this exact situation four years ago, I’d avoided the blame, slinging off the mud of it and throwing it onto Beck. I’d buckled under the pressure of being perceived as perfect. It’d been easy to do; second nature. And here I was again, face to face with the same choice.
H-U-M-I-L-I-A-T-E. I met Carter’s eyes across the garden, and at the worry in his, a pang of guilt hitting me square in the chest. I’d had one job—he’d askedone thingof me, and I’d screwed it all up. Because ithadbeen me.
“I—I kissed her,” Beck said, but his voice lacked strength. “I kissed Eleanor. I—she—she tried to stop me?—”
Now my jaw dropped open, and I turned toward him. “Uh,no, I didn’t?—”
“Nobody buys that,” Lydia tried to interject.
To which Daisy groaned, “Shutup, Lydia.”
“I knew something was off about you,” Mrs. Pembleton went on, taking a step closer. She would’ve continued if her husband hadn’t grabbed her wrist. “You never wanted to meet us, and nowthisis why—you two-timing little?—”
Beck pulled on my arm, tucking me ever so slightly behind him. “That’s enough.”
“Says the guy she was cheating on my son with!”
The bickering grew in strength, and for some reason, it made me think about the crackle of the rosebush flames all those years ago. Lydia and Daisy were going bar for bar, and Mrs. Pembleton tried to advance on Beck, still held back by her husband. Carter looked at me from across the cobblestones, expression pinched and sorry.
For a serenity garden, it had a bad reputation.L-O-U-D.
“Mrs. Pembleton,” I began, cutting through the voices. My brain wasn’t moving fast enough, too dazed by what’d happened with Beck. “Dr. Pembleton. I—I wasn’t trying to humiliate your son. Or you. I—I was just—”trying to think of an excuse and coming up empty.
And then Carter, with one great rush, broke. “It wasn’t real.”
My eyebrows shot up, and so did everyone’s in the garden. Beck’s hand slipped on my arm, fingers falling to my wrist, and loosely hanging there.
It took Carter several beats to work up the courage to speak again, his face pinched, as if he was bracing for a blow. “I’ve been lying. Eleanor and I aren’t dating. We… never were.” He curled his hands into fists and turned toward his mother. “You kept pushing dating down my throat, setting me up with people I didn’t even know—I don’twantto date. Not Lydia, not Eleanor, notanyone.”
Lydia, at his mother’s side, wilted. Despite everything, I felt a pang for her.
“I thought that if I started dating someone like Eleanor, you’d finally leave it alone,” Carter went on, his chest rising and falling fast. “I had to ask someone else to help me, because I was too cowardly to face you.”
I watched his parents’ expressions as Carter faced them down. Mrs. Pembleton looked stricken, as if she couldn’t believe her son was saying these things in front of other people. Dr. Pembleton looked… amused?
“I get it, that I’m not the most impressive son. That I’m weird, and like weird things, and that you wish I were normal. But I’m not, Mom. I neverwill be. And I wish you’d stop trying to force me down a path you chose. I wish you’d let me choose my own.”
Daisy was nodding ever so slightly, silently cheering him on.
The garden fell quiet again, with everyone sort of braced for what would happen next. I wanted to go over to Carter to be his moral support at his side, but he stood well on his own. He might not have wanted to stand up to his parents, but I was proud of him for not backing down. Especially given how fierce his mother’s eyes were.
Dr. Pembleton laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Maybe we should take this in private,” he murmured toher, managing to stifle the humor that’d been in his eyes. “Let’s not interrupt Eleanor’s birthday.”
Mrs. Pembleton didn’t seem too bothered by the idea of interrupting my birthday. But instead of saying anything, she gave her son a once-over and turned on her heel. They left the serenity garden in a huff, but Carter lingered for a moment, his eyes finding mine.
My shoulders drooped as I took a step toward him. “I’m sorry?—”
But he shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.” And then, with one last awkward smile, Carter followed after his parents.
I decided I’d message him tomorrow, after everything had a chance to die down, and check in. Because even if I didn’t have feelings for him romantically, Carter-slash-Mr. ASMR was my friend, and guilt over messing this up squeezed me tight.
Lydia stomped over to us. “What happened to the plan?” Lydia demanded, eyes wild. “You—you were supposed to help me!”
It took me a second to realize she wasn’t talking to me, but to Beck. Beck’s hand, which had still been braceleting my wrist, tightened, as if he were afraid I’d yank away. “I never said?—”
“What plan?” Daisy demanded, whirling on Lydia. “Did you make a plan to humiliate Nellie? On herbirthday?”
I shook my head. “It’s okay, Daisy?—”
