"Why are you here?" Carter directs his question to the man.
There is a tone of annoyance in his voice. His fingers are curled into fists, his clenched jaw, and the way his eyes throw daggers at the man are all signs that he isn't pleased to see him.
"Melody called. Your father needed medicine," the man replies, his gaze flickering to me for a moment.
It doesn't take another second for Carter before he is rushing past the both of us to enter the house. I follow him, throwing a last glance at the strange man whose eyes follow me. I hear the door being closed behind me as I run in the direction where Carter is headed.
I find Carter in a room that is devoid of any furniture except for a bed and wardrobe. The sunlight enters through the open window, giving the small space a yellow glow. When I step in, I find Carter sitting on the bed beside his Dad.
Mr. Bell's eyes are closed and he looks like he is asleep. His face appears thinner, the cheekbones too visible and there are dark circles underneath his eyes. He is covered with a heavy white blanket up to his chest. His head is positioned in a manner on the pillow to allow easier breathing.
Carter puts a palm on his Dad's forehead to check his temperature. Melody stands beside them, looking at the duo with concern on her face.
"Dad?" Carter says softly, then turns to Melody. "What happened?"
"He was having trouble breathing. Complained of bone pain for a while," Melody says. She looks at the man standing behind me now. "I had to call Mark to ask him to bring the doctor."
"What did the doc say?" Carter asks, his eyes roaming worriedly over Mr. Bell's body.
"He said it was one of his attacks. It's pretty normal. Gave some painkillers before he left."
"Why didn't you call me?" Carter snaps, getting up to face Melody.
I can't see the expression on his face nor can I see Melody but the conversation doesn't seem to be going in a good way by the sudden change of atmosphere in the room.
"You're at school," Melody defends herself in a timid voice.
"Oh, for God's sake, Melody! That's not a reason. I asked you to call me if something happens. I'm the one who knows about Dad's health." He runs his fingers through his hair and face. He sighs, turning to face Melody again who is fixed to her spot, her eyes downcast. "Please call me, Melody. I'm the one who pays you."
It surprises me to hear that from him. A boy his age isn't supposed to pay for his Dad's treatment but more than that, I find myself pondering the question of how he pays her. In the two days I have been here, he has only been outside for one night.
The night he returned injured
"Carter?" I call out to him before I can stop myself. He turns around, looking like he has forgotten about me. I don't blame him. The mere fact that he even remembers to bring me back home is enough for me. "Is everything okay? Will Mr. Bell be alright?"
Something flickers in his eyes. He looks back at his Dad. The sound of Mr. Bell's soft snoring is the only sound that breaks the silence of the room.
"He's okay," I hear Carter say with a voice that sounds like he is saying it to convince himself.
He leans down, placing a kiss on Mr. Bell's forehead.
Being here suddenly feels intimidating. These people share a relationship. They are a family and I am a stranger among them. It feels like I am invading their privacy. Maybe that's the reason Melody keeps spying on me and Carter. I can feel a corner of her glare still focused on me.
I bend my head low as a rush of self-awareness rushes through my body. I turn on my heels, making the man, whose name I assume is Mark, moves to give me space to leave.
I run out, a sigh of relief escaping my throat as I follow the direction which leads me to Carter's room. I throw open the door, stepping in and shutting it back. I walk towards the bed and drop my bag on the floor beside my travel bag before plopping myself down on the soft mattress.
Lying with my arms stretched, I feel the need to escape somewhere far away. It is tremendously disturbing to find yourself without a family. It is like you are in an episode of Lost. My mom has always been my everything. Without her, I am not even a part of me anymore.
The door opens with a creak causing me to rise with a start. Carter steps in, kicking the door shut with his foot. He leans against it, looking down at him with a cold gaze.
"Why did you leave?" he asks.
I squeeze my legs shut with my palms in between them, feeling awkward about the question. Should I tell him the truth? But the truth tastes like acid and I would prefer not to let my mind drink it anymore.
"I just felt a little off. I'm okay now."
He steps forward, dropping his bag on the floor. He sits beside me on the bed, our knees touching each other just slightly but enough to make me crave his closeness. He puts his elbows on his knees, hiding his face with his palms. The muscles in his shoulders look tense even when his strong biceps make it hard to focus on them.
"Are you okay?" I ask while my hand itches with the want to touch him.
"No, snippy, I'm not. You wanna know why?" he says, suddenly turning to me.
Our faces are inches away. His eyes look intense, making my toes curl, an act I am glad he doesn't notice.
"Do you want to tell me?" I inquire indirectly.
My fear of not having a place to stay has made me embed the 'no questions' rule in my head. There is no way I am breaking it.
"Why can't you ask?"
Disappointment casts a shadow over his face. I feel his arm behind my shoulder as he shifts closer. I catch his scent - a minty cologne that slips through my nose, making me fear this closeness.
"You said no questions," I remind him, trying to distract my mind from his very inappropriate actions which are making breathing difficult for me.
"I thought we were friends," he whispers, his gaze moving to my lips.
It stays there, not moving. He slides his tongue over his bottom lip. I mimic his actions by tracing my tongue over my bottom lip. The act is spontaneous and I bite my tongue to stop myself from repeating it. His lips curl to a crooked smirk when he catches me on the deed before bringing his eyes back up.
"On a side note, I don't think we can be friends..." he states.
"And why is that?" I question, taking a glance at his kissable lips but making sure not to linger.
"Friends don't do the things you're doing to me."
The way the words flow smoothly on his tongue makes me part my lips with a soft gasp. He pulls back and I stare at him as he bursts into a peal of laughter.
"Your face..." he snorts, between stretches of laughter.''
I notice the way the muscles in his face relax, making him look younger. He clutches his stomach, hissing with a sharp intake of breath when it hurts. I take that as my chance to flick his ear to let him know that his joke wasn't even remotely funny.
The door flings open promptly, making us jump back. We look on as Mark enters Carter's personal space without permission.
"We need to talk," he says to Carter as he steps in. "Privately."
He looks at me, giving me an intimidating glare. I take that as a sign to get up but Carter grabs my wrist, pulling me close to him as he stands too. His hands cup my cheek which causes me to look at him in bewilderment.
"Just give me a moment, okay?" he says.
I blink, raising an eyebrow but I bite back my words when he leans in and brushes his lips softly against my forehead.
The kiss seems unnecessary but it doesn't change the way my body shivers at the action. His lips are soft and I wish he could kiss me more. He lets go and I don't find the confidence to face him again as I walk out of the room in brisk steps with a blush that I can assume is evident on my cheeks.
I close the door behind me and lean against the wall, trying to calm my heart rate down. The faint sound of voices from inside travels to my ear. I should be off from here but the curiosity to hear what's going on behind the door is more convincing.
Without thinking for another second, I choose the disloyal path. I press an ear on the door as I focus to listen to the conversation going inside.
"You can't pull a girl into this. This is out of the rule," Mark's deadpan voice greets me.
"She's none of your concern," Carter retorts.
His tone is demanding and defiant. I can hear the sound of my tiny heart beating loudly against my rib cage as I keep listening, hooked by the conversation.
"If you get distracted, this won't work. I need you to be in your right state of mind when you get inside the ring. A girl isn't going to help with that."
"You don't control my life's decisions. Our deal is only within the ring. You have no right to advise me on who I should care for and shouldn't."
"You don't understand!" Mark's tone is louder this time.
I flinch at the harshness in it, pulling back, realizing that this isn't a conversation I should trouble myself with. If they catch me here, Carter will be disappointed, even though I have the belief that the conversation involves me in some way.
I open the other door to enter the sitting room. Carter's words stick to my mind — our deal is only within the ring — as I walk towards the kitchen, letting my thoughts consume me.