Camp Wisahickon

Chapter Thirteen

CAN I GET A WHOOP WHOOP?
What do you think about Carter's past? What do you think he's holding back? I love reading your comments so keep em coming! Xo

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When I hear the screen door shut later that night while I'm wiping down a table, I can't help but smile. "I didn't think you'd come help tonight."

Carter chuckles from behind me. "Well, someone told me I need to stop being a sore loser."

I turn around to flash him a smile, and my stomach skips a beat when I see his. I don't know why, but lately whenever I'm around Carter, I just get this fuzzy warm feeling inside of my stomach, like his presence effects me somehow. I try to stop thinking about it and instead toss him the rag I was using, then walk over to the counter to grab the broom.

"That's the spirit. Now start wiping down the tables, would you?" I demand with a playful smile.

"Whatever you say, princess." Carter hums, and then starts cleaning the tables.

As I begin sweeping the floors, the radio starts playing a Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen, and a memory flashes before my eyes. The image of Jake singing along in the car as we drove to the beach, windows open and blowing my hair around, and the sound of my uncontrollable laughter as he belted the words poorly. My heart tugged in my chest, bringing me back to reality, and I blinked away the fast-forming tears.

With precise steps, I walk over to the radio and change the channel hastily, leaving on some pop song that I usually can't stand, but now prefer it to the memory invoking Bruce Springsteen. I stare at the radio with hard eyes for a moment before looking up, and I see Carter looking at me questioningly from across the room. He straightens up and starts padding towards me when he sees my expression, his brow pulling together in a furrow.

"I never took you as the pop type," He says in an attempt to lighten the mood, but doesn't approve of the weak smile I give in return. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, trying to think of what to say, and eventually mutter, "I just hate that song."

"Amelia, look at me," Carter says slowly, but I keep my gaze trained on the ground, very much aware that if I look at him, my resolve will break. He takes a few steps closer to me until he's close enough to tilt my chin up with his hand and force me look into his inquisitive gaze. "What's really wrong?"

I shouldn't tell him. I mean, I know I shouldn't. But that doesn't stop me from saying quietly, "That song just reminds me of my ex boyfriend. It's stupid, I know."

"Jake?" Carter questions, equally as quietly, and I nod slowly. "It's not stupid."

His hand falls slowly from my chin, but he doesn't move away, and keeps the proximity between us small. I bite my lip and look away, trying to think of how much I want to divulge, but end up speaking without a filter.

"No, it is stupid, because why should I be so affected by a song? I mean, why should I care about Jake anymore? He's just some asshole who cheated on me," I ramble, and then look up at Carter and groan. "And you totally don't want to hear any of this, because you don't even like him, and now I look like some pathetic girl who is still strung up on a guy who cheated-"

"Damn, Mina, calm down," Carter says, and thankfully, he's laughing, so he doesn't totally think I'm a nut case.

I covered my face with my hands and groaned again, which only made Carter laugh harder, and I felt my cheeks flush. A moment later, I felt him pry my hands away from my face, and I eventually let them fall down and pout at him.