a/n picture of Ilya above.
so the reason why my updates are getting so slow is because I was thinking of discontinuing this book... I'm not sure if I want to keep writing it because 1) I hate my writing style, 2) I feel like it's not interesting enough and 3) I barely have time to update and I feel pressured to. Thoughts? If y'all reallyyyy want then I'll keep it up but expect updates to be slow.
Chapter 9
"Firstly, we would like to welcome those of you who have lost faith or seeking it, wondering about God or new to the church."
As pastor Weston Caldwell said that I turned to look at Carson over my shoulder. I sat in the front row, because Dad, who was wearing his best button-down shirt and slacks, always liked to leave the house early to find us good seats.
Carson's family, their hurried footsteps echoing in the cavernous space of the church, arrived a fashionably tardy ten minutes late. The heavy scent of polished wood and aged hymnals permeated the air as they quietly shuffled to the back pew. Carson sat between his mother and father, a grim expression on his face.
Unable to capture Carson's attention, I shifted my focus forward and absentmindedly began tugging at a stray thread on my shirt. Miles was typing away on his phone, which he had tucked beneath his jacket on his lap.
"Get off your phone, Miles," hissed Dad.
"I'm reading the bible on my phone," Miles whispered back. I snorted. He was on Instagram.
"Let us offer one another a sign of God's peace," said the priest after the Lord's prayers.
The room buzzed with movement as people shifted around. I strolled over to where Holly Dae was seated, extending my hand for a shake. Brodie clung to her side. "Why, thank you, madam." Her laughter bubbled as she clasped my hand.
Continuing down the pew, I approached Claudia and her husband. Her face lit up at the sight of me, and she took my hand in hers. She smelled like a flowery perfume. "Peace be with you," she said to me.
Carson's father and I exchanged a smile and a handshake. He was a tall, brooding man. He looked exactly like what Carson would in twenty years' time.
I walked up to Carson still in his seat. He raised an eyebrow, and his mom nudged him. With a sigh, he got up, and I had to look up to meet his gaze, forgetting how tall he was. He reached for me, squeezing my hand in his large one. His hands were icy cold."Peace be with you," I said, giving him a quick smile.
I just wanted to get that over with because I hated the feeling of his hand on mine. His mother met my eyes and gave a bright smile.
Savoring a slow sip of my strawberry milkshake, the sweet aroma of freshly grilled burgers and the tangy scent of ketchup and mustard lingered in the air. Holly Dae and I lounged at The Grill on a lazy Sunday afternoon—our cherished pastime. The booth's faux leather beneath us was cool to the touch, a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the midday sun streaming through the large windows.
Holly Dae absentmindedly toyed with the cross necklace beneath her shirt. "I just want her to end things with him," she complained about her mom's boyfriend. "He does nothing but lounge around. Mom has me looking after Brodie constantly. I barely have time for homework anymore."
I stole a bunch of fries from Holly Dae's plate. "Listen, I am willing to help out from time to time. Just shoot me a text. Plus, Brodie's not as annoying as other babies."
"Bless your heart—I appreciate the support."
Munching on a handful of fries, I surveyed The Grill. Nearby, a cluster of kids our age engaged in either pool games or satisfying their appetites. In our town, The Grill was the go-to hangout, a hub of activity when there was little else to do besides aimlessly driving around with a friend.
"Isn't that the guy who fainted in class?" Holly Dae all of a sudden asked.
"Who?" I said through a mouthful of fries.
Holly Dae pointed. "Him."
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Carson throwing darts at a board on the wall. A blonde guy, munching on his sandwich, sat beside him. Squinting, I recognized him as Ilya, the guy whose photo I accidentally liked a week ago. He matched the images – wavy golden hair, a strong jawline, and squinty eyes.
"I'll be right back," I said to Holly Dae, who was sipping loudly on her vanilla milkshake. She nodded and went back to tapping away on her phone. Probably texting Nik.
I slipped out of the booth and approached Carson's table. Ilya noticed me first, leaning in to nudge his cousin's shoulder. Carson followed his gaze and spotted me standing behind him.
Carson gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Maxine."
"Cole." I returned the nod.
His jaw clenched. I must've hit a nerve there.
Ilya glanced between us. "Mind introducing me?"
Carson remained silent, fixating on his plate of curly fries. "I'm Maxine, but I prefer to go by Max," I chimed in, glancing at Carson. "Carson and I go to school together."
Ilya's thin brows cinched together. "Who—?" Suddenly, he stopped talking, and a look of acknowledgement changed his face. "Ah, so you're going by that name now. How pretentious of you."
"I thought the same thing," I said with a grin. Ilya was easy to talk to, unlike a certain someone.
"Wait, is she the one you always — ?" Carson cut Ilya off by punching his shoulder lightly. Ilya laughed, "All right then."
I maintained my gaze on Carson, trying to engage him. "Actually, Carson, I'm here for you."
"Heard that, bro?" Ilya nudged Carson. "She's here for you."
Carson slid his plate aside, offering a brief excuse as he headed to the bathroom, leaving a subtle sinking feeling in my chest.
Ilya's attention shifted to the burger on his plate. "God, I missed this," he muttered, almost to himself, savoring a large bite. I sensed an air of discomfort and felt awkward. Just as I contemplated leaving, Ilya's voice stopped me. "You're creeping me out just standing there. Take a seat, will you?"
Blushing with embarrassment, I murmured an apology, taking a seat on the stool beside him. "Must've looked so creepy."
"No worries. Not every day a pretty girl's stalking ya." Pushing his plate toward me, he gestured to his fries. "Have some."
"I just ate, but thanks."
"So, what do you want from ColeCarson?" He laughed at his own joke.
I noticed that he had an accent, like he wasn't from around here. Perhaps some place like California. "Oh, um... this is going to make me sound like even more of a stalker, but... are you Ilya?" I already knew it was him, I just wanted to make sure.
He grinned widely. "Guilty as charged. Why? Is the FBI on my tail? Thought I did a good job hiding the body."
I laughed and felt myself begin to relax. He didn't run out of here screaming. So far, so good. "You're Carson's cousin?"
"Yep." His eyes, a greyish-green color, inspected my face as if I were some sort of puzzle. I felt hot under his stare. Seemed as though intense eye contact ran in the family. "Wait, you're the Max?"
"Didn't realize I was famous around here," I joked.
"Can't believe I didn't connect the dots. I mean, it's hard to miss a girl with the description 'pretty blonde with unruly hair'."
I tried to play it cool despite all the blood rushing to my cheeks. "He talks about me?"
"You'd be surprised with how much he talks about you. I thought you was his girl or something." He shrugged and took another sip of his drink, oblivious to the way my face felt hot all of a sudden.
"Really?" Glancing around to check if Carson had returned, I found Holly Dae still at our table, her eyes shifting between me and Ilya.
Ilya leaned back in his stool, a sly grin on his face. "Don't act like you haven't noticed."
Curious to shift the conversation, I asked, "How come I never see you around in school?"
"I go to a community college in Davenport. I only come to visit family."
"I never saw you in Belle Haven High either." A face like that, you don't forget.
"I live in Davenport, love. What business do I have in Belle Haven?"
"Other than Carson," I said.
"How unfortunate." Ilya was toying with his straw when he stated, "This town is a shitshow."
I was glad at least someone agreed with me. "You should have warned Carson before he moved here."
"He didn't have much of a choice. I mean, he did tell you why he moved here, right?"
"Change of scenery?"
He took a thoughtful pause. "It's not my place to tell you. If he wanted you to know, he would've told you already."
Carson returned from the bathroom just then. I stood up from my stool and said, "Well, Ilya, it was nice meeting you. See you in school, Carson." With a wave, I returned to our table.
Holly Dae was still fixated on the two of them. Leaning in, she raised her brows, "Who was that?"
"That was the new kid, Cole, but he prefers to go by Carson. And beside him is his cousin, Ilya."
I glanced back at them. Ilya was watching us, his gaze lingering on Holly Dae. When our eyes met, he gave a slow smile and leaned in to say something to Carson, making Carson punch his shoulder.
"Blondie's cute," said Holly Dae. "So is the one beside him. Guess looks runs in the family."
"Are you forgetting about your boyfriend?"
"Hey, it's OK to look at the menu and not buy anything from it." She grinned and flashed her newly done braces at me.
Holly Dae's cryptic message about missing school due to family issues lingered in my mind as I navigated the halls the next day. The school buzzed with life, but unsettling laughter drew my attention. A group of freshmen girls gathered and stared at something. Following their gaze, I spotted Carson staggering his way down the hallway. Eventually, he halted at a locker, dropping his bag to the floor.
He was drinking from a water bottle, oblivious to the stares he was getting. In a town where newcomers were rare, especially ones with good looks, he was bound to become the talk of the school. He didn't seem like the type to care about that stuff, though.
"The kid next door is hella cute," a voice said from beside me. "The things I'd let him do to me." Cara was chewing on her gum obnoxiously.
"Really?" I tried to sound uninterested.
"C'mon, he's smoking hot." Cara was one of those girls who only hung out with guys because 'they're way less dramatic than girls'. For that reason, we never got along.
I remained silent, prompting her to turn and scrutinize me. "You don't think so?" she asked while fidgeting with her nose ring.
I turned to put my books away in my locker to escape her penetrating gaze. "I got a boyfriend."
Cara snickered. She had a scratchy laugh, like she was always smoking or something. "Jesus, you girls need to loosen up. Nothing wrong with admitting someone's attractive. You're just admiring God's creation. What's wrong with that?" She hoisted one of her broad shoulders in a shrug.
Carson turned his head, meeting my gaze after a moment, as if sensing our stares on him. He shut his locker and then gave me a brief but intense smile that seemed a touch forced. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he backed away and vanished into the bustling crowd of students.
"Aw, see? You do find him cute!" Cara's raspy voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I shrugged. "Whatever. We're just friends." If you'd even call it that.
Harry, standing with his friends at his locker, gestured for me to join. I shuffled over and tiptoed to press a kiss to his cheek, but he was glaring at something behind me.
"Something the matter?"
He brought his gaze back to mine. "Something off about that new kid."
My heart skipped a beat. "Cole?"
Bones joined the discussion, "He walks like he owns the place. Someone ought to show him a thing or two. Ya know, teach him a lesson." When Bones said that, he looked right at me.
"Calm down, he's like a head taller than you," said one of his friends. All of them burst into a round of laughter.
"Teach him a lesson?" I said hesitantly. Harry and his friends always got what they wanted at this school. I'd seen it happen right before my eyes. If they didn't like someone, they'd make sure to let them know. Harry must have felt intimidated by Carson; otherwise, he wouldn't have made that statement.
Harry said, "don't worry about it," but he continued glaring at something behind me. I turned to see Carson conversing with Genevieve. She laid a hand on his arm, then glanced at us. Was it jealousy? Disapproval? Or just a fleeting disinterest?
"Try not to do anything stupid, Harry. Just let him be." I couldn't comprehend why I felt so defensive over Carson.
Harry shot me withering glare, then hoisted his bag further up his shoulders. His shirt was wrinkled and stained. His father must be back in town. "Why are you so concerned about him?"
"I'm not!" I quickly said. "I just don't want you to get in trouble again with your coach. Remember what he said? One more strike and it's over for you?"
"Like he'd kick out the captain of the swim team. Relax, will ya?"Harry raised a brow.
I rolled up on my tiptoes and kissed his nose. "Pretty please? For me?"
Then, "Fine. But if he does something to piss me off, none of us are holding back." His friends in the back all murmured an agreement like the sheep they were.
The bell rang. Harry gave me one final peck on the lips, then walked away. I stepped inside the classroom and almost dropped my books on my feet when I saw Carson sitting at a desk. I had no idea he'd be in one of my classes. He hadn't noticed me yet. I began moving over to him, my sneakers making a shuffling sound on the floor. Carson looked at me, and his gaze went dark. He made a sound like a sigh and sank down lower in his seat.
Close enough now, I noticed a bandage on his head but refrained from staring. "Um..." My gaze briefly shifted to the yellow classroom walls. There was a poster proclaiming 'every day may not be good, but there is something good in every day' in vibrant letters. "Did you enjoy the casserole we brought over last week? My twin brother, Miles, cooked it. He's a better cook than I am, for sure. You've probably seen him in the hallways. Honestly, I prefer baking over cooking, but I'm not sure why. And just to clarify, we're not identical twins. I think I'd shoot myself if I had to look like him—,"
"We're a family of vegetarians." Carson gave a tight-lipped smile.
That got me to stop talking. "Goodness, I'm sorry. You should've said something."
"It's all right, we appreciate the gesture." He paused. "Did you need something?"
I scrambled to gather my thoughts. "Uh, could I take a look at your schedule?" Exhaling a deep breath, I tried to shake off the flutter in my heart. It wasn't my first time talking to a cute guy, so why was my heart racing? Was it because of what Ilya said?
Carson blinked, then started to search through his bag on the floor. He pulled out a piece of paper and slid it over to me. As I looked at his schedule, I discovered that he had AP English Literature with me, AP Chemistry, Calculus with Nik, AP US Government, and Painting.
I was delighted. "You're in my painting class."
"OK," is all he said. I was a bit frustrated in his brisk answers. It was as if he would rather watch paint dry than talk to me. I hated this sapping feeling of rejection. "Is that all?" He took the paper from me, and put it back in his bag.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Actually..." I went to say, but he wasn't paying attention to me. His eyes were locked on something behind me. I stopped talking and looked over my shoulder at what he was staring at. Bones and his usual group of rowdy friends were pretending to heave and gasp for air. One of Bones' friends — Philip (a geeky gamer who referred to women in a disrespectful term) — dropped to the floor and pretended to have a seizure. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were implying.
Carson clenched the pencil in his hand so firmly that his knuckles went white, his face darkening with a terrifying look. I shot a glare at Bones, who just laughed and casually sat back in his seat.
"Don't let them get to you," I told Carson, trying to diffuse the situation. "They're just a bunch of pricks."
There was no humor in the laugh he let out. "You don't say."
I didn't have a clue how to react to that, so I just made a tiny stride in his direction and went to put my bag down beside him. In a flash, he had grabbed his bag from the ground and dumped it in the spot beside him so that I couldn't sit next to him. I looked at him but he refused to meet my gaze — instead staring stoically ahead at the board.
I couldn't shake off the sting of humiliation, knowing that every eye in the room had witnessed his dismissive gesture. I quickly put my bag over my head and made a beeline for the back seat at the end of the classroom.
For the rest of the lesson, I glared at the back of Carson's head. Why was he so distant? I had approached him with genuine intentions, trying to bridge the awkward gap that seemed to widen between us. Frustration welled up within me, like a slow burn in my chest, as I grappled with the rejection I had just experienced. I had hoped to offer friendship in a town where he was undoubtedly a stranger.
Leaning back in my chair, I listened to the teacher discussing a poem called 'Safe in their Alabaster Chambers,' which we would soon be studying. Pulling out my notebook, I began jotting down a few notes. Along with Painting, AP English Literature was the one class I loved.
Checking the clock, I saw there were about thirty-five minutes to go. Bones sat behind Carson, snickering as if he'd heard a funny joke. He tossed a paper at Carson, and it landed on his desk. Glancing to the teacher, who was facing away from them, I watched as Carson picked up the paper and read its contents. His jaw clenched.
He got up from his chair and strode out of class.