Reapers -- The First Familiar (Reapers Chronicles Book II)

5 - Side-tracked

My hair and my nails still grew. Other than that, I couldn't fear wrinkles and gray hair like all the other girls. I couldn't wish to grow a few more inches. Or hope to wear a B cup someday. With my plans to save Vincent from his all-powerful Daddy, I couldn't even imagine making it through the next year. How sad.

"I... like you," he repeated when I didn't respond. "A-and I mean not as a friend."

How sad indeed. "Let's go for a walk," I said to him as I forced a weak smile.

For some reason, I was happy that Carter had grown up. I wouldn't have to worry about him or Lindsay after all. They would do well on their own. At the same time, it made me strangely sad for the both of them. At first, I thought it was just a lucky guess when I told Lindsay that I knew he liked Carter. But maybe, I had been seeing it all along-the way they cared for each other, the way they watched each others' backs. It was pretty obvious, now that I thought about it.

How could Carter feel this way about me? I couldn't understand at all. It wasn't fair. This was why I didn't like attachments. This was what I had been avoiding for the past ten years.

"I t-thought you're in a hurry?" he stuttered, pocketing his hands to prevent them from shaking.

I nodded lightly, keeping my eyes on my feet as they stepped unhurriedly. "But I still got time."

It couldn't be helped. The least I could do was try to sort things out before I left. Breaking my friendship with Lindsay was one thing but breaking Carter's heart was another. I had to make sure they would stay together and help each other mend.

"Have I told you I really like strawberries?" I told him, my hands clasped behind my back. I didn't wait for his answer. Of course I hadn't. I wouldn't tell anybody anything. Sighing, I continued. "But I'm really allergic to it. I was five when Dad brought home a basket of it. It was Mom's birthday, I think. The scent coming from the basket was... unbelievable."

Innocently, his eyes lingered on my face, making it kind of hard to keep my calm. "Yeah. Strawberries are... nice."

"I sneaked one." I finally mustered the courage to face him and was a bit surprised that I had to look up to him now-he used to be a couple of inches shorter than me. "Just one and I almost died. Mom said I turned blue and stopped breathing."

"You're joking," he muttered, a wry smile spreading across his face.

"No. Seriously. They rushed me to the hospital and the doctor had to give me loads and loads of medicines so I could breathe again," I replied, watching his reaction. "And I never ate strawberries again even if I really, really like it."

Carter paused, thoughtful as though he was trying to make sense of what I was telling him. "Ever?"

"Well, maybe I tried once or twice," I admitted with a wistful smile. "And Mom screamed at me for hours after that. She is... was such a nag."

Lightly, he chuckled, raising a brow. "That's what I thought. And you weren't sent to the ER anymore?"

I shook my head. "Just as long as it's not more than a bite. But I would get itchy everywhere and my face would get all red and really swollen. Like this." Out of impulse, I puffed my cheeks and narrowed my eyes.

Carter's laugh filled the air. As self-conscious as I had suddenly become, I laughed with him if it was just to hide the burn in my cheeks. When the laughter subsided, Carter stayed silent for a while, giving me a meaningful look as if he wanted to say something. Casually, I stepped ahead of him. The way he looked at me made me uneasy.

"It was like I wasn't born to eat strawberries after all," I mumbled, my voice trailing off.

"Aramis," he said my name again, and this time, there was a hint of hurt in it. A hint of understanding. "Are you saying you're allergic to me? Because I know a whole lot of antihistamines," he attempted to make it sound like a joke, but there was no real humor in his tone.