AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Estelle, come on.” He maintains the same speed as me. “Get in the car. Let’s talk here, please.”
I quickly wipe the first tear that rolls down my cheek.
Carter tries again. “Estelle, get in the car. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. Let’s just go home.”
With that, I stop in my tracks.
I feel silly that I just walked out on him without a plan—just my drained phone and my wallet. I don’t even know how to commute from here.
So, ignoring every iota of shame coursing through my veins, I climb back into the passenger seat.
Chapter Eleven
Thesilenceischilling,like I’m submerged in the cold Artic waters in the midst of winter.
There’s just no other definition for it; my muscles are tensed, and my skin somewhat hurt from the discomfort of feeling nothing but the hiss of his car’s air-conditioner.
Even music would be good.
But I’m not exactly in the position to demand that he puts the stereo on.
So, I sit in silence for what feels like an entire lifetime—I grow and age in this very vehicle, my eyes forming lines of wrinkles and my face sagging. Above it all, I’m being melodramatic.
My thoughts wander everywhere else. But they linger on how far I took a white lie.
Since it’s roughly an hour’s drive, the urge to initiate the conversation occurred to me almost a hundred times. But the will to start it, however, never came to me.
The only time we talk is when he asks me for directions to my apartment.
Up until the moment we get outside my apartment building, we haven’t said anything about the fact that I deceived him about who I am.
I wait for him to say something after he pulls over, but after a few moments, I realize he has nothing to say to me. And I supposed I should have something to say to him, but I don’t—I do, but I can’t think of anything right now.
So, I just unlatch my seatbelt and push the passenger door open. But before closing it behind me, I manage to say, “I’m sorry, Carter.”
He looks over at me for a brief second and gives me the most heartbreaking smile I’ve ever seen.
As soon as I close the door, he drives off.
I put a hand over my chest as I feel it constrict; the physical pain of knowing you hurt someone is unbearable to me.
To me.
Not to other people like Larson.
Leaving things between Carter and me like that, I head up to our apartment, where Mom and Aunt Olive are waiting for me.
“Honey,” Mom greets me. “How was your night? Have you had dinner?”
Right now, my entire body is begging me to just fall on the bed, but my bed is the couch. So, I walk to the giant beanbag in the corner and let it swallow me. “I’m okay. Just a little tired.”
I can sense Aunt Olive watching me even with my eyes closed.
As if reading my mind, she says to Mom. “I think we should rest for the night. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”
I know it’s only just past 8:00 p.m, but I don’t stop them either.
I’m tired.
