She Wears Toms, He Wears Converse

Chapter 22

"It's Kinda Long Story."

Astrid's P.O.V

"Why did you take one tonight?" I repeated after the question went unanswered for what seemed like minutes. Carter did nothing; he didn't answer, he just continued to stare into my eyes. It was evident that I wasn't getting an answer, so I slid my body off of the sink that I was sitting on and left through the bathroom door. I already missed Carter's lingering touch, however, I wasn't about to admit that. I made my way to the bed and quickly positioned myself comfortably. About ten minutes later; long after torturing thoughts had made their way into my mind, he exited the bathroom. His feet stopped right in front of the bottom of the bed.

"Astrid?" He began.

"You don't have to tell me," I whispered. I didn't want to force him to do anything.

"Just tell me what happened to you... Before you moved here." I added.

"It's kinda long story..." He stated, hoping I'd drop it.

"I've got time."

"Are you sure you want to know?" He questioned.

"Yes," I whispered. In a few swift movements, he was lying next to me on the bed. Even in the dark, I could still see his playful smirk; still see the sparkle in his eyes... I guess some things never fade, no matter how dim things may seem.

Carter let his soft fingertips trail along my hips. As always, it made my skin tingle. I learned not to say anything, though.

"You know how you were treated at Riverbank?" He started.

"How I am treated." I corrected with a nod.

"I was treated the exact same way that you are." He stated; correcting the tense so that it was in the present. This statement shocked me. I always knew that there was a secret to Carter; nobody could be so perfect. We all have a hamartia. I just didn't expect this.

"But, you always seem so likable." I protested. Carter Daniels was finally opening up to me and all I could do was argue. What is wrong with me?

"Don't you ever get tired of the same routine, Astrid?" He began. "You wake up feeling unimportant and worthless, and then you're forced into an environment full of people who are rude and ignorant. They all ignore you, or they don't care... Or worse... You turn into their punching bag." He continued. His fingers that were tracing my thigh were now gripping it; his touch no longer soft but needy.

"So, you are only talking to me because I remind you of your past and you feel bad for me?" I asked.

"No." He quickly reassured me. "When I was fourteen, I changed everything about my appearance. I changed my hair and my clothes, and the kids at school started talking to me. They began to like me, but they liked the person I created on the outside." He added.

"One of the reasons I stay around you so much is because of how determined you are. You didn't change yourself for anyone. You remind me of who I used to be, and you're helping me from becoming society's punching bag." Carter spoke. This time instead of interrupting him I listened. I wanted to hear everything he had to say.

"With my mum's lively career I moved here at the age of fifteen. The boy who was all over you at the house party is Maddox; he used to be my best friend." Carter voiced while clearly highlighting the tense of the sentence. I refrained from letting out a snicker.

"For the first time in my life, I went somewhere and I wasn't outcasted, I wasn't bullied, I wasn't hated. I was liked, however, I was incredibly stupid and gullible. I followed what everyone told me to do. That's also when I met Maddox... I did things I shouldn't have and it began to tear me apart. I had to act anytime I left the house." He explained.

"What type of things?" I inquired. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from him. He was hesitant to answer my question at first, and that was obvious. His body tensed up as he pulled me closer.

"I don't want to scare you away." He breathed.

"I'm not going anywhere," I reassured him. He took a deep breath before he told me.

"I got in so many fights... Maddox and I used to team up on people and beat them up. I also did ecstasy..." He told me. After he finished speaking; he waited. He waited for an answer; he waited for my reaction. It was as if he was expecting me to walk away from him and never talk to him again.

"Okay," I whispered. I knew about him taking drugs. I didn't know how violent he was. It came as a shock to me that someone so beautiful could be so destructive, but it wasn't going to make me leave him. I've grown far too attached to the boy in converse, and that scares me.

"Listen, Astrid, I've changed; I'm different now. I promise." He pleaded.

"Carter, I'm not going anywhere," I spoke. You might call me gullible, but I believed every word he said. When my words traveled to his ears you could see him relax. He wasn't nervous; he wasn't scared.

"Then I moved here and I met a girl who wore toms instead of converse." He said. I let out a soft giggle.

"I know, right? It was if we were meant to be enemies. She betrayed converse, however, I found myself wanting to talk to her; to be near her. She hated me for what felt like an eternity, but the craziest thing happened. We are actually friends now." He continued. I was too preoccupied with other thoughts to notice that he referred to us as only friends, instead, I asked a question that I've wondered since the day we met.

"Why did you sit next to me in that third-period math class?"

"Everyone else was ogling me and I thought it was going to be a repeat of the last two years. People were only going to like me for my looks and I was going to be turned into someone I'm not. However, then I saw you. You sat at the back of the class; you didn't care about some new kid. You didn't care what I looked like, and you reminded me of who I used to be. I had this insane thought that maybe, just maybe you could help me find myself again." He explained, and I froze. I gave him so much shit when he first attended Riverbank when he didn't deserve it.

"Well, I want to help you as much as I can," I told him.

"Don't you see, Astrid?" He started. "You already have."

Then I realized that the road to recovery is one of the longest roads traveled. It certainly isn't nice to the ones who dare to tread it, either. The worst times to travel are when you aren't certain that you even want to recover, and it happens to all of us, yet we all choose to continue anyway... Maybe that's our survival instinct or something. We'll all have our slip up days, and that's okay because it's easier to trip or slightly step off the track than to deem it the entire problem again and start over...