Carter Ortese is Trouble - completed (The Boys #1)

Chapter 28: Emma

"You don't have to." I turn to him and strain to keep my voice low and flat. "I know things are hard—"

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't occasionally spoil you to a delicious lunch out with—" He looks at my meal. "—tepid, plain pasta?"

I bark out a laugh, which makes me wince. My grip tightens on my tray that holds my pathetic food. It forms a gap between us, which I'm grateful for, because I don't know if I could handle him touching me right now. "Seriously, Carter, you shouldn't—"

"He already has." The lady gives him his card back. "Thanks, Carter." She winks at him.

"Anytime, Mrs. J." He keeps his eyes on me and tilts his head to the side. "Are you okay?" With a single touch of his finger, he caresses the side of my face, tracing a long tingling line down my cheek.

The touch says a million things. I care about you. I'm worried about you. I want you. All that and more. My brain ignites, and I have to blink to keep myself from wincing.

I'm not sure if Carter is aware of the silence that has grown around us, but I am. In this school, we're like animals on display at the zoo, as if no one can believe this type of relationship can exist. Oh my gosh, look at the deadly lion and innocent dog playing like it's no big deal. Isn't that neat? Different species can be friends! How cute.

I shake my head, walking away from the woman who apparently Carter has niceties with, and realize even if this school hates him, he's better than I am at noticing his surroundings. He would have probably noticed something going on with Stacy months ago. He would have been a better friend. Carter is wholeheartedly just good.

I take another step, and a lightning bolt of pain lances through my temple. I pause. Carter puts a hand on the small of my back, and it does a million things to my insides. His silvery blue gaze fills with concern.

"Headache. Really bad this time."

"Have you seen the nurse?" he asks, trying to take my tray, but that would make me feel more helpless, so I edge it away from him.

"No. But I have my own ibuprofen, so it's not a big deal. It's just stress, or whatever." I take a long breath and keep heading to the table with my friends, Carter in toe. I ease into the chair, careful not to jar anything loose in my head, and Carter plops down next to me like this is no big deal. It is, isn't it? The whole world thinks it is. Everyone thinks it is. Everyone except for me and except him. To us, this is just ... us. We're just us.

"Hey, Carter," Mika says.

"Mika. Stacy. Britt. How's it going?"

"I think the last time we spoke was before you showed some girl your dick on the back of the bus in sixth grade," Britt states, her brow furrowed. I shoot her a dirty look. "Sorry, Carter. No filter." She shrugs, as if that explains everything.

He shakes his head. "First, I never showed Jackie anything. She wishes." That second statement makes Mika snort. "And second, I wasn't even sitting next to her. In fact, I think she was three rows up. I think she started the rumor just to seem... more mature?"

"And once someone starts a rumor about you, it seems to stick," Mika chimes in.

"Exactly."

I stare at my pasta, feeling thousands of miles away from this conversation. My body is empty, a vessel where the part that made me me has left. I stab my fork into the pasta and shovel a bite into my mouth. My stomach roils at the taste of it. Starchy, a bit stale and overcooked at the same time. It sticks in my throat as I swallow, and I quickly grab some water to wash it down.