CO-CAPTAIN
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c h a p t e r t h i r t e e n
Walking through the woods, Carson wraps her jacket more around herself.
"Allison, when you said you were gonna stop for an errand before we went shopping... A five mile hike in the woods was not what I was expecting," Lydia complains.
"Yeah, I don't like the woods. It's dirty and there are bugs," Carson looks around.
"Well, you made me spot you in a 3 hour workout last week," Allison responds.
"You like working out!"
"Not for three hours! Anyway, I wanted to ask you something Lydia," Allison says.
"Jackson asked me to the winter formal."
"Did he?"
"Oh boy," Carson smirks.
"Yeah. Just as friends but I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."
"Sure. As long as it's just as friends."
"Well, yeah. I mean, uh, it's not like I would take him to the coach's office during lacrosse practice to make out with him or something."
"Wow," Carson mouths, slightly amused by the confrontation occuring in front of her.
"Or like I would know about this incident and keep it a secret, right?" she directs to the much taller girl walking five steps behind.
"Uh, of course," she bites her nail.
"We'll make it up to you," Lydia looks pointedly at Carson, who seemed ready to argue.
Stopping at a random spot in the trees, Allison pulls out a weird arrowhead.
"Are you gonna shoot us?" Carson hides behind Lydia.
"What is that?"
"We're about to find out," Allison responds, shooting it into a tree. It explodes, shooting out a white light.
"What the hell was that?" Lydia gasps.
"I don't know," Allison stares at it.
"Well that was fun. Anymore lethal weapons you'd like to try out?" Lydia teases.
"I hope not, I'd like to get to the mall alive," Carson jokes, before they hear a snap.
"Hold this," Allison hands Lydia the arrow, which was probably the wrong decision.
"W-What? Why?" she asks.
"Because I thought I heard something," Allison continues to look around.
"So what if you heard something?"
"Allison, we're in the woods, of course you heard something," Carson groans.
"So I want to find out what that something is. Don't worry it's probably nothing," she responds.
"Well, what if that nothing is something and that something is something dangerous?"
"Shoot it," she walks away.
"She cannot be serious," Carson sighs.
After waiting a few moments, Carson breaks the silence. "So why did you kiss Scott?"
"Why haven't you forgiven your little puppy dog?" the girl retorts, clearly evading the question.
Standing up straight and stepping closer to the petite girl, Carson warns, "You know one of these days, your need for power is gonna leave you hopelessly alone."
"You would know. Been there, done that, right?" she sneers back, Carson staring her down a moment before Allison made her way back.
"Hey... Guys," she looks confused at the tension, "It was Scott. I was thinking we just head home?"
"Yeah that'd be perfect," Carson says still staring at Lydia, venom in her words.
"Never a better idea," she stares back, matching her town.
"Okay," Allison chuckles.
____
Stepping out of the car, Carson slams the door and struts up her walkway. She walks in the house, greeting Sprinkles with a kiss.
"Hey Sprinkles, how was your day-What the hell?" she looks up the see a familiar blonde.
"Why are you in my house? This is breaking and entering, I could press charges," she glares.
"But you won't. Listen, every time I screw up, I come on all strong and I never just talk to you about it. That's all I'm asking for, to talk," he pleads.
"There's a cell phone in your pocket for that," she points out.
"Yeah but I've noticed you accept things better when they're in person," he steps closer, her taking a step back.
"Just say what you want to say," she sits in the living room.
"I really am sorry. I just like you, a lot and I feel like you push me away. I'm not used to this so I didn't think to buy you flowers or write a card. I was upset because Stiles has this advantage-" he starts.
"Advantage? This isn't a race, or a business venture, Ty. I'm a person, not something to be won like a trophy," she sneers.
"That's not what I meant. He just, he's got history with you. All I have are long nights and flirty remarks, not genuine care and nostalgic stories. I don't know your favorite flower or song or movie, and I was scared that you'd realize that you don't want me around anymore, so I lied. And if you'd give me a chance I'd really like it if you let me take you to the winter formal," he avoids her eyes. She was a bit shocked, honestly. She hadn't expected him to genuinely feel that way for her, but she couldn't ignore the obvious red flags.
"My favorite movie is Mean Girls, I like carnations, and my favorite song is currently Paparazzi by Lady Gaga," she comments. "But you should go."
"I figured you'd say that," he gets frustrated.
"I'm sorry Tyler but I just don't want whatever this is anymore," she feigns guilt, obviously not caring very much at all.
"You're not. But I'm telling you this now. You will regret not going to the dance with me," his eyes turn cold and angry, scaring her. Not to mention the cat started hissing at him like a maniac.
"I'll be looking forward to it. You really should go," she walks him to her front door, slamming it behind him.
She walks up the stairs as her grandmother pulls into the driveway.
"Hey Luna? I found a beautiful bracelet for you to wear. It was my mother's mother's," she smiles, handing her the charmed jewelry.
"What do the charms mean?" she asks, in awe.
"This gemstone here? It's aquamarine, symbolizing transformation and rebirth, but it's told to reveal secrets and even protect you from loss," she smirks.
"This is a wave, symbolizing the ocean and chaos but also stability."
"Thia is the Reynolds family crest, which you know is your mother's maiden name."
"Finally this is Saint Anastasia, whose name means resurrection."
"Well thank you for the family history lesson, I love this," she hugs her, smiling wide.
"Good, and make sure you wear it as often as possible," the woman has a slight frantic look in her eyes.
"I will," she chuckles, waving her off as a crazy old lady.
"And whatever you do, don't lose it. It's very valuable."
"I will guard it with my life," Carson holds it to her chest.
_____
As Carson looks through her magazine for inspiration for the Winter Formal, Gina knocks on the door.
"Come in," she yells, taking a bite of a Twizzler.
"What are you doing?" she asks, sitting on the bed with a mug of hot chocolate in her hand.
"Looking for an idea for the Formal. I can't decide between white, red, or gold. Your assistance is greatly needed," Carson looks between her and the pictures.
"Hm. Red makes you stand out, but it's a risky color. White is too formal, save it for a gala. I say gold," Gina suggests.
"But not like an all-gold dress right? Cause I think that'd be too much," she responds.
"God, no. Don't insult me. Find a neutral dress with gold accents, pair it with gold jewelry, shoes, etc," she explains, as they both hear the front door closed.
"Is that dad?" Carson asks, peeking out the doorway.
"He's never home before 10," Gina furrows her eyebrows, growing more confused at her husband's familiar voice.
"What's going on up here?" he asks, leaning in the doorway.
"Winter Formal planning," Carson gives a short response, her once excited mood now dulled.
"Did you study for that Chemistry test?" he continues, and Gina sighs.
The brunette just points at the desk, and walks over to see various passages highlighted as well as a stack of extremely organized notes.
"Good, good. And Geometry?"
"Lydia is tutoring me tomorrow night," she closes the magazine, picking Sprinkles up.
"Okay. Well, I'm going to bed," he walks out of the room, and Gina gives her daughter an apologetic look.
"Good night, honey. Good luck with this," she kisses her forehead, turning off the light.
"Good luck with that," Carson points to where her father once stood, disappointment clear in her tone.
The woman quickly catches up to her husband before they go in the room, a frown etched in her face.
"What now?" he sighs.
"You could be a little more fatherly. She's going to one of her favorite events a year and all you asked about was school," she scolds him.
"She doesn't want to talk to me about stuff like that. That's what you're here for," he hangs up his lab coat, clearly done with the conversation.
She crosses her arms in annoyance, continuing anyway. "Because of how you act with her. Can you just try to be a little less cold? For me?"
He lets out a breath, giving a small smile. "Fine."
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author's note: so what do you think Tyler meant by regret? also i imagine the bracelet like this, but with charms in the spaces between the gems.