“Hey,” Elliot lowered his voice. “A word.”
I stepped aside, letting a cluster of parents squeeze past us toward the coat check. “What’s up?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just stood there with his arms crossed, jaw working like he was chewing through a sour gummy. The polished captain from the speech earlier was gone. What was left looked tired and a little wired.
“Take care of Karter,” he said.
“I plan to.”
“That’s not what I asked.” He stepped closer, close enough that his shoulder blocked out the noise from the banquet room. “His relationship with dad is all screwed up, and he did that for you. Dad’s still raging. The only reason Karter still has tuition is because Mom’s holding Dad back from going completely nuclear.”
“So, Karter’s not cut off?”
“For now.” Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “Which means you don’t get to screw this up. Or get to decide it’s too hard and bail. And you definitely don’t get to be another thing that hurts him.”
I met his stare and didn’t blink. “I’m not gonna hurt him.”
“Good.” He held my gaze another beat, testing, then let out a short breath through his nose. His arms uncrossed, hands now shoved into his pockets. “I heard about the AHC spot. From Karter.”
“Of course you did.”
A beat of silence. Elliot’s mouth twitched, half a grin he clearly didn’t want to give me. “Congratulations. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He snorted and turned back toward the banquet room.
Walking back into the main room, I found Karter standing near our table, waiting for me. Catching his eye, I gave a quick tilt of my head toward the exit. He understood immediately.
I had one final stop on campus to make before break started: grabbing my last bag and leaving the attic behind for good.
The Ice House was dark when Karter and I pushed through the front door. No voices bleeding through the walls. No shoes thudding overhead. The grandfather clock in the foyer ticked into the silence.
The attic stairs groaned under our feet one last time.
My boots stopped on the bare floorboards. Karter leaned against the doorframe behind me, arms loose at his sides.
My room now had nothing left in it but dust and my last duffel bag. I’d stood in this exact spot months ago, fresh off a midnight shift, convinced the legacy kid in the next room over was just another asshole. Karter’s first night, I’d stood outside his locked door and told him locks didn’t last here. Meant it, too.
I glanced sideways. Karter leaned against the doorframe, watching me.
“When I first got here, I had a perfectly good plan.” My tone sounded deadpan.
Karter tilted his head. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Keep my head down, survive this shithole, and get drafted.” Meeting his gaze, the snare of a smile pulled at my mouth. “Then you had to move in here and fuck my whole life up.”
Karter let out a short, dry laugh. “You’re welcome.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He just reached out, grabbed the front of my jacket, and hauled me in. I caught the shift in his eyes, hazel flooding dark, right before his mouth met mine. Then I stopped thinking.
My hand found the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. I kissed him hard enough to shut us both up, because saying the rest out loud—about how Karter felt like home to me—still felt like pulling teeth. But he got it anyway, the way he always did.
Breaking apart a moment later, I grabbed my duffel and slung the strap over my shoulder. And then, slinging an arm over Karter’s shoulder, we left the attic and headed down the narrow stairs.
Fresh air blew into my face as we stepped outside. I didn’t say goodbye to the Ice House, or touch the walls one last time. Isimply walked out, with Karter beside me, and let the draft pull the door shut.
Chapter 29 - Karter
