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His words really, really hurt. More than anything he’d said to me in the past. Because I knew he believed them to be true. Was there any point in me saying how I felt around him? How I’d realised that I could stand up to my biggest tormentor without backing down, and that was something I’d never imagined I was capable of? My childhood bullying had left me retreating into my shell, making myself invisible, and I’d never fought back. Yet, with him, I’d managed to stand my ground. And being with him that night, anonymous and masked, I felt freer than I ever had in my life.
I couldn’t articulate any of it, though.
“I see.” I bit my lip, willing the tears away.
Releasing my wrist with a heavy sigh, he took a step back, and then he was gone. I remained where I was for a while, just trying to compose myself. Trying to make sense of the emotions whirling around inside me. Eventually, I straightened up, splashing some water on my flushed cheeks, and re-entered the bedroom.
Carter was sitting on his bed, his laptop open in front of him and the textbook next to him. He cocked his brow in a silent invitation, his expression carefully blank. I made my way over to him, tugging off my boots and arranging myself cross-legged on his bed. His bed was huge, so I didn’t have to sit too close. The atmosphere between us was weird—it was like we’d reached some kind of fragile, temporary truce, and neither of us wanted to say or do anything to break it. My earlier, hurried search through his desk drawers had turned up nothing, and I decided to put my search for answers on hold for now. I was drained, in all honesty. Ever since Fright Night, actually, ever since this school year had begun, I’d been unable to fully relax, knowing he was there, ready to attack me with his words and actions.
“Okay.” I broke the strained silence. “Have you started working on the essay yet?” Carter shook his head, and I sighed, pulling his laptop towards me. I opened up the web browser, navigating to the CliffsNotes website. “Do you use this?” Tapping at the screen, I glanced over at him. Sprawled casually on the bed, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his hair tousled where he’d been running his fingers through it, he looked so good that I lost my train of thought as I trailed my gaze over his body before returning to his face. He raised his eyes to mine, reluctant amusement sparking in them.
“You were saying?” His lips tugged into a smile when I stared at him mutely, lost in his eyes. Ugh. This wasn’t like me. Or at least, not with anyone else.
Clearing my throat, I forced my mind to concentrate. “I asked if you use this website.”
“No.”
“There’s your first problem.” Shuffling closer to him, I angled the screen so we could both see. “This website breaks it all down for you. It explains all these different concepts…” I typed the name of the play we were studying, Macbeth, into the search bar and then scrolled through the results. “See? If I’m not sure what something means, this is the first place I go.”
Leaning forwards, he was quiet for a moment, staring at the screen. “I thought CliffsNotes was for people that weren’t…y’know. Clever or whatever.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Just because someone doesn’t understand something straight away, it doesn’t mean they’re not clever. There’s no one way of learning that’s right for everyone. Sometimes it takes looking at something in a new and different way for you to understand it.”
“Yeah,” he mused, a slight frown on his face.
“And just between us,” I added, “Professor Patel can be a little dry in his teaching methods.”
“That’s a fucking understatement,” he muttered, collapsing back against the headboard. We lapsed into silence, as I navigated to the summary of Act 1, scene 5. I opened his copy of Macbeth to the correct page, my eyes skimming over the familiar words. Familiar, because I’d already completed our assignment.
“Read this scene, and then we’ll go through it,” I suggested softly, handing him the book and indicating where he should begin.
“Read it with me,” he countered. “You do the Lady Macbeth parts.”
I groaned, my cheeks flushing. “I-I can’t.”
“You can.” His voice was insistent. “We’re not in class, there’s no one else here. It’s just you and me.”
“Fine.” My cheeks flushed, again. He flashed me a satisfied smile, and I sighed. “Give me the book, then.”
Instead of handing me the book, he reached for my arm, tugging me closer before releasing me. Our legs were touching, and goosebumps popped along my arms. Somehow managing to ignore his presence, I began reading. “They met me in the day of success…”
I lost myself in the words, my self-consciousness vanishing almost as soon as it had arrived. When I paused for breath, I became aware of Carter watching me intently, an almost puzzled expression on his face. “What?”
He shrugged. “Never thought I’d see the day where we were in the same place and you weren’t irritating the fuck out of me.”
“Except for Fright Night,” I pointed out, and his eyes darkened. I gritted my teeth, prepared for a backlash. Why had I brought that up?
“Are you seeing Lena’s brother?” he suddenly asked, ignoring my comment.
“Huh?” My gaze flew to his. He’d schooled his features into a blank expression, and his voice was casual, so I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Never mind.”
“No, I’m not.” Despite Cassius’ idea to make Carter jealous, I couldn’t lie to his face. Not after I’d tricked him once. The fortune teller’s words echoed inside my head again. Trick him once, but don’t trick him twice. Why I was even thinking about that, I couldn’t say. It wasn’t like I believed in any of that kind of thing. Something about
the way she’d spoken to me, though, and the intensity on her face…it had meant that her words had become imprinted on my brain.
Carter nodded, dropping the subject, and returned his attention to the page. “Carry on.”
