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August 12
Standing under the shade of the gym hall, my legs begin to ache. I look down, searching for a dry-enough spot to sit down. I almost wish I'd taken care to check the forecast before I came to school in the morning.At least I wouldn't be one of the few people without an umbrella.
"You know you can take mine, right?" Riley offers. She taps her foot as she stands beside me under the shade, her purple flowery umbrella hanging from her arm. Her brown hair which she spent hours curling in the morning sparkles with droplets of water.
"I'm okay," I answer. "Dad'll be here any minute."
She hums. "Oh, shit," she mumbles, lifting a hand to wipe her running mascara. Her fingertips come back stained with black. She groans, throwing her head back and stuffing her books into my arms as she digs out her phone from her bag. "I swear, this day keeps getting worse.
"Look at the bright side: at least your parents didn't forget they have a daughter waiting at school to be picked up," I say sweetly, trying not to sound half as angry as I am.
Riley turns to give me a sympathetic look, one I don't want. I don't want her to pity me. Holding onto my own bag and Riley's books, I glance at the phone in my left hand. It's not even a big deal. I'm pretty sure Dad hasn't forgotten me. He probably just got hung up at work and didn't get a chance to text me and let me know.
For two hours.
"You want to come with me?" Riley asks, tapping a tissue under her eyes to wipe away the makeup disaster. "I'm sure Carlos won't mind dropping you off first."
I roll my eyes and slump against the cold wall, sliding down so that I'm squatted on the semi-wet ground at Riley's feet.
"Before he cuts you open and pulls out your guts? No thanks."
Riley laughs, sitting down next to me and resting her chin on her palm as she batters her eyelids at me.
"Are you jealous of Carlos?" she coos. "I promise he's not stealing your best friend."
"One, you're not my best friend," I answer calmly. "Two, I'm sure he's not stealing you. You're willingly walking into that death trap named handsomeness and preparing to die at the hands of that football-playing-womanizer."
Riley pulls back, shaking her head. "What is it with you and jocks?"
"I don't have a problem with jocks," I correct her. "If he was any nicer, like Shane Gray, for instance, I wouldn't mind him so freaking much."
A coy smile slides onto Riley's lips and she gives me a Cheshire grin.
"Oh. My. God!" she squeals. "Do you like Shane?"
"I said he's nice," I remind her. "Not that I'm dying to ride him or something like that."
"But you said you don't mind him." Riley grabs my arm, her nails digging into my flesh as she shakes me. "You like Shane Gray, I can't believe this."
I jerk out of her grip, scowling at her.
"You're delusional," I snap.
"And you're in lurve!" she sings.
Before I can smack her face, though, loud voices reach us from across the parking lot. The two of us look up to see the school's football team making their way across the semi-empty space. They're carrying their sporting bags and wearing fresh pairs of clothes, their hair wet. Another thing they have in common is energy. By the look of it, they're all still high on the adrenaline rush.
"I don't care what you say," Riley says beside me. "He's hot as hell."
I follow her gaze to see none other than Carlos who is leading the pack of rowdy teens. He isn't carrying anything, an arm swung around Shane's neck whose fashion sense stands out in the team. Instead of wearing a sleeveless hoodie or jacket like the rest of the team, he's supporting a long, caramel-colored coat that looks like it came off the runway show of a top designer. Some people think he does it to show off his money, but he could be wearing a designer jacket too if that's all he wanted. I feel like there's more into it. Like he's trying to stand out.
Like he's trying to be seen.
I watch him for a while as he laughs with his friends as they make their ways towards their own cars. They don't have any umbrellas, shaking their hair like dogs to get the water out before diving into their cars. As for Shane, he walks over to his infamous black Lincoln Navigator. He jumps in and rolls down the window before revving the glorious engine to life. My skin tingles and I feel a pair of eyes on me. I glance at Riley to see her smiling towards Carlos who's sitting in his convertible and looking our way.
It isn't until Shane and the rest of the team has driven away that Riley's phone rings.
"Yeah?" she says into the speaker. "I'm coming."
She turns to me and catches me frowning at her.
"I have to go before someone sees us," she tells me, gathering up her things and rising to her feet.
"What's with all the secrecy?" I ask, not getting why Carlos is acting this way. Even if he doesn't want his friends to know about Riley -- which makes no sense since his PDA with his ex was a sight to behold -- shouldn't he at least have the decency to talk to her outside his bedroom? A part of me even wonders if Riley's lying about them not having sex yet. Maybe he's just looking for a hookup or a mistress he can have fun with behind closed doors.
"You watch way too many mystery and criminal shows," Riley says, turning it on me as usual. "He's a sweet guy. He just doesn't want the kind of drama he had with Sarah."
"Sarah dumped him because he cheated on her," I remind Riley.
"Sarah said he cheated on her. We don't know the whole story. Besides ... I trust Carlos."
As Riley runs through the rain and gets into his convertible which he switches on and drives away in seconds, I can't help but doubt her trust in him. Trust like this, blind and unconditional, is never a good thing.
Instead of focusing on my best friend and the mistakes she's making in her relationship, I shake my head. I turn my attention instead on the fact that I'm probably the only one left in school. I dial Dad's number, squinting into the downpour and wishing I too had a boyfriend with a car who could drive me home. Or better, a car of my own.
Dad answers on the fourth try.
"Yes, honey?"
"Where are you?" I ask, trying not to sound as upset as I am. "I've been waiting at the school for three hours."
"Oh, shi -- sorry, I ..." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Tay, I totally forgot."
"You ... forgot?" I repeat. I don't know why I find it hard to believe. It's not that I hadn't expected it.
"It completely slipped my mind."
"That's okay," I say. "How soon can you get here?"
"Oh ... um ... it could take me a while. Can't you take the bus?"
"Dad, the bus doesn't drop me home," I remind him. "I'll have to walk twenty minutes and it's raini --"
"Or one of your friends could drop you."
I purse my lips, trying not to say something offensive.
"I'll see you when I get home, okay?" Dad says. "I have to get back to work. Bye, honey!"
He hangs up and I know I have no choice but to find my own way to get home. After taking a bus that smells like greasy tacos and wet socks and walking until my legs fall off, I finally see my house looming in my vision.
I unlock the door and push it open with the toe of my muddy converse, shaking the rain from my coat and sickly sticky hair. I don't mind the rain, to be honest. Such weather demands staying in bed with a steaming mug of coffee and a good book. Instead, I'm walking two miles home from school because my dad forgot to pick you up. In my case, I'm never sure if Dad forgets or if he'd rather not visit my school at all.
It must be hard for him, I get that. Living in the same house, driving around the same streets, even being under the same sky ... it must tear him apart. Even though it's been a months since Carter left us, we still haven't gotten used to it. His room with all his untouched possessions still haunts us, locked away with all his reminders. Some memories can't be forgotten, though.
Sighing a breath, I remove my shoes and leave them outside before sloshing into the house in my soggy socks. I drip water behind me, thanking God I'd been smart enough to buy a waterproof bag when I had the chance.
"Mom?" I call, wondering if she's back yet.
There's no response and I kind of miss the sound of laughter that had once echoed in this house. Everything is so dark and quiet now, shadows dancing across the floor and over the furniture. I wouldn't mind so much if it was the shadow-hunters but what am I going to do?
Accepting the fact that my brother is gone and my parents are too busy mourning his loss to notice me, I trudge towards the stairs and up to my room. I strip out of my wet clothes and push my limp, wet hair back before heading to the bathroom. I don't know why I'm hoping for warm water considering my luck today, because nope! That just isn't happening.
Why God? Why?
Grumbling under my breath like a starving gremlin, I pull on my fluffy trousers. I grab an overlarge hoodie Carter owned only a year ago and dive under the covers on the bed I didn't make in the morning. Mom and Dad don't know what a mess my room is.
I don't think they even care what a mess I am.
Closing my eyes and inhaling through my nose, I try to clear my head. At last, I fall asleep with an empty stomach, a heavy heart, and Carter's image on my mind.
I fall asleep wishing someone cared.
*.*.*.*.*.*
A/N: I know you guys have questions but they'll all be answered in due time. My question from all of you is what you think is going on between Riley and Carlos? Is he the nice guy Riley says he is or the jerk Taylor thinks he is? Second question: if your best friend told you not to trust a guy, would you listen or would you shake it off because 'she doesn't know him like you do'? Come on, there's really no wrong answer to this.