Inner Works

(Spencer) AFTER A RIGROROUS

shower, and a very thorough washing by the girl who I'd just recently found out was named Carla, I am sitting across from her in

her kitchen in one of her baggier t-shirts and my own underwear, sipping tea.

"So your mom is totally chill about the gay thing and the having sex thing?"

Carla throws her head back and laughs, causing some of her spiraling damp hair to slip off of her shoulder

and behind her onto her back. It's incredibly breathtaking.

"I'm not gay."

She finally says, after she has calmed her laughter.

"Really?"

I ask her,

"because let me tell you, I have some sore spots that would just beg to differ."

Carla tilts her head, biting her lip and contemplating how to answer before she finally responds,

"Sometimes I'm attracted to boys and sometimes I'm attracted to girls. Yesterday just so happened to be your lucky night."

This time I laugh and Carla's mug slips out of my slender fingers and onto the floor, sending glass and tea shattering in all directions.

"Shit, I'm so sorry--shit!"

I curse again when I feel something sharp bite into the bottom of my foot as I was standing to begin

cleaning it up. I glance at the floor, already seeing my blood beginning to spread across it.

"You're bleeding."

My head whips up at the tone in

Carla's

voice. Her face is a peculiar cross between pain and

excitement. I watch as she inhales deeply through her nose, before looking confused, closing her eyes,

and viciously shaking her head, as if to rid herself of a trance. Her words from last night flash through

my mind;

"I am messed up, honey, and you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

When I glance at her again, the facial expression is gone, but the look in her eyes is not. She rushes forward to help me.

"Oh God, are you okay?"

She gently places one arm behind my neck and the other behind my knees before literally sweeping me off my feet.

"Wow, you're, um, strong?"

She laughs nervously, carrying me to the couch and gently laying me down on it before going to fetch

a first-aid kit and telling me to stay put. She returns moments later, a pair of tweezers in her hand, along

with gauze and medical tape.

"This is going to hurt, but it'll hurt more if you leave it in."

She informs me and I nod.

"Just do it."

She pauses for a moment, before yanking out the glass piece of the mug in one quick movement.

"Wow, okay, ow!"

She chuckles a little,

"Well, I told you it would hurt and you told me to do it anyway."

I roll my

eyes,

a gesture she probably doesn't see as she is busy wrapping my foot and ankle. I can see

the tips of her fingers stained red.

"Blood doesn't bother you?"

She freezes, tries to play it off.

"Not much bothers me since my parents were killed."

"Wait, what? I met your mom this morning. She was cool."

Carla sighs,

"You met my adopted mother. My biological parents were killed ten years ago."

Her words made my back go ramrod straight.

"Hey, um, Carla? What's your last name?"

She glances at me, confused, before answering,

"Well, legally, my last name is Carrelson, but my parents' last name was Fitz. Why do you ask?"

"Uh, just wondering. My parents are dead too."

I try to keep the tremor out of my voice.

"Small world."

Carla says, taping off the end of the gauze,

"Now, I imagine you do have to be home at some point today, and I have no problem cleaning up the mug/tea mess, if you give me your phone number."

The queasy feeling in my stomach settles at the prospect. Nothing like teenage hormones to keep a potential

freak out in check. After delivering aforementioned information, I gathered my dress and left the Carrelson

residence in Carla's t-shirt and a pair of her jeans. I try to block out all the thoughts of ten years ago. Meeting Carla has

reminded me of my parents'

own execution.