Chapter 42

The weekend passes uneventfully.I work, go to church, and go out for coffee with Grace. When I get to my locker Monday morning, I find a surprise waiting for me—though, not a mean one this time. A small shopping bag with two-toned pink stripes from Victoria’s Secret is in my locker. I look around to make sure no one is glancing my way, then open the bag to find six pairs of panties, all in my size. On top of the pink tissue paper inside is a note in Carter’s handwriting that reads, “To make up for the pair I stole. Wear the blue ones next time you wear that skirt.”
Narrowing my eyes, I toss the note back in the bag. Does that mean he sees my skirt as some kind of sign indicating he can fuck me that day? He can fuck off if he thinks that. Days have passed since our last encounter, weekend days, so I’m sure he brought Blondie over to Cartwright’s for a weekend group hang. I’m sure Brianna was just as welcoming to her as she was to me, and Cartwright didn’t have to keep up, he could just be nice to the straightforward hot blonde on Carter’s arm. The one who is supposed to be there, because she fits in like I never did.
Taking my cell phone out of my purse, I text Carter while I’m mad so I can yell at him. “If you think I dropped the girlfriend title so I could be your occasional booty call, boy, do you have another thing coming. Thanks for the panties, but you’re never going to see them on me.”
Since I can’t very well bring a Victoria’s Secret bag with me, I slam my locker door shut and leave them inside. I’ll just have to try to sneak them out to my car while everyone is at lunch… which will mean lingering in the bathroom until everyone else is already in the cafeteria, which means if Carter wants to accost me, the path will be clear.
I don’t know if the panties were an actual gift or just a way to get me alone again. I suppose I could throw a wrench in his plans—if they are his plans—and wait until I leave for the day to take them, but spending even more time in the school building and waiting for it to clear out sounds terrible and also less reliable. The last thing I need is giving anyone the visual of me hauling a bag from Victoria’s Secret through the halls though.
I won’t be wearing them anytime soon, anyway. Thank the Lord, I finally started my period over the weekend, so there is no Carter clone hiding out in my womb, waiting to do Daddy’s bidding and ruin my whole life. The birth control I started was supposed to start working immediately, so it seems now I’m out of the woods.
I didn’t want to be pregnant so I am relieved, but there is the tiniest corner of my heart that felt a bit sad. Logically and in every sensible way, I know Carter would use a baby to manipulate me right back into his arms, to control me and ruin any relationship I tried to start with anyone else. I know he would be a nightmare to deal with, and I would probably end up waving the white flag and going back to him to try and work things out—especially with a little baby in the picture and the tempting vision of a perfect little family in my mushy heart. For all of the reasons in the world, it is good that I am not pregnant.
On an irrational, sentimental level buried deep, I’m just a pinch sad about it.
But that can easily be ignored. I’m rational most of the time, and the overwhelming majority of me is immensely relieved Carter didn’t ruin my life.
Not yet, anyway. When I saw Luke at church on Sunday, I didn’t get a chance to talk to him like I wanted to. At school, Carter would be able to see me talk to Luke, but if I pull him aside at church… well, Carter isn’t going to church, that’s for sure.
I don’t think Carter did talk to Luke though, because while I didn’t get to pull him aside and talk to him, Luke didn’t act weird around me. He flashed me friendly smiles from across the room, both of us gesturing that we would catch up later, we just never did.
I’m relieved Carter respected my wishes. I don’t know what possessed me to lie to him in the first place, I just didn’t think he would get so crazy about it. I thought he might experience the same wounded sensation of a bruised ego and a punched heart as I felt when I saw him flirting with Blondie right in front of me. I didn’t think he would threaten to target my mystery boyfriend, but on reflection, I should have been prepared for the possibility. Carter is crazy and spoiled, so of course he thinks he should get his way while doing whatever the hell he wants. Of course he wants his unused toy on a shelf instead of letting it move on and find someone else to play with.
I can’t even fault him for that sentiment, though. It would be severely hypocritical. I’m finding I feel the same way. I don’t want to be with Carter, but I don’t want him to be with anyone else either. It’s not like I want him to be lonely or unloved, I just… don’t want him to be sexually or emotionally invested in any other girls.
I think what I actually want is a time machine so that I could travel back to the moment Erika shoved her cell phone at me. Instead of wanting to know and looking at the phone, I would have just surprised her by punching her in the face. Would have been well worth the detention or suspension, or whatever it is they do to bad kids who punch other students. I’ve never actually had a detention, but it seems like I could just use it as an additional study hall and get a jumpstart on my homework. At any rate, after the detention, Carter would still be my boyfriend, and I wouldn’t have to feel conflicted about anything.
Or maybe I need to set the time machine back a little more. Return to that night I left him unsatisfied and remedy the damn issue myself, then he never would have gone over to Erika’s house in the first place.
When it’s time for history class, I walk a little slower. Ideally I want to arrive right before the bell rings, that way I don’t have to witness the pre-class flirting of Carter and Jenna. I get there just before the bell, but Carter isn’t in his seat. I frown at his absence, but figure he’s just running late. I set up my study area, the bell rings, but Carter never comes.
About ten minutes into class, he finally shows up. Mr. Hassenfeld stops talking to stare Carter down disapprovingly. “So nice of you to grace us with your presence, Mr. Mahoney.”
“I do what I can to please the fans,” Carter assures him with an easy smile.
I roll my eyes, but a few kids chuckle. Ugh.
After class, I don’t feel as terrible as I expect to. Maybe it was his late arrival or maybe he just didn’t feel like torturing me today, but he doesn’t spend the whole class flirting with Jenna. There is still some interaction between them, but she’s clearly driving it. I wonder if she has already lost his interest, but that might be wishful thinking.
Lecture runs late and I’m a little slower about getting my stuff put away so I can leave. Carter and Jenna walk out together. I keep my head down, refusing to look at them, but I hear her talking about her cat. I bet Carter doesn’t have a single fuck to give about her cat. I bet he would rather stab himself in the eyeball than listen to another word about Fluffy.
Trying to shake off the ickiness of just having overheard her speaking to him, I gather my things and make my way out of the classroom.
“There you are!”
I turn, startled, at Kasey, the photographer from the football game. She is plodding toward me with a wide smile on her face. Pointing at myself, I question, “Me?”
Nodding enthusiastically, she says, “I needed to catch you after class. Can you come sit with me at lunch? I need to talk to you about an opportunity I think you’ll be interested in.”
“Lunch? In the cafeteria?”
Kasey blinks. “Last I checked, that was the popular lunch location.”
“Oh. Yeah. I don’t eat in the cafeteria. I could catch you after school lets out instead?”
“No,” she says, firmly determined. “I have stuff after school. It has to be at lunch. Come on, the lunch room isn’t so bad. It’s one day. It won’t kill you, I promise.”
Dread consumes me at the thought of going back to that cafeteria. Sure, the “Zoey the ho” period has passed, but it’s still a room populated with people I don’t want to be around. I’ve grown accustomed to my peaceful, isolated lunch breaks.
Kasey doesn’t give me much of a choice. She’s a dog with a bone, and the bone is my presence at lunch. Grace might also be offended if she sees me back in the lunchroom, but sitting at a different table instead of with her. Can’t sit with her anyway, though. Luke sits at that table, and if I show up in the cafeteria again all of a sudden sitting at a table with Luke… yeah, no.
With many reservations and heavy, reluctant steps, I follow Kasey to the cafeteria. I think up excuses the whole way there, but since I don’t spit any of them out, I walk through the open doors and into the mouth of hell.
The cafeteria buzzes with energy and conversation. All the people I spend all day not interacting with gathered together in one place. Fantastic. I also don’t have my lunch, which means I’ll have to buy. Ordinarily I wouldn’t even have enough cash on me to buy lunch, but I still have the twenty that Carter left me Thursday, so I guess I can use that.
Kasey chatters as we walk over and take our places in line. Even though she is literally invisible to most social sectors, Kasey is unafraid of the lunch room. I admire that about her. I get the feeling if she had been my best friend instead of Grace during the “Zoey the ho” situation, Kasey would have ignored the stares, slut coughs, and open hostility from the football players. I bet she would have sat there with me, completely unmoved by the nonsense all around, and I bet she never would have let me flee the lunch room in the first place.
This is a lot of betting I’m doing on someone I barely know, but she just has a very strong presence, and I really dig it. I love Grace, but I feel like Kasey might be more on my level in regards to certain things. While I do love Grace, we really don’t have that much in common.
I feel a kinship with Kasey already, and this is only my second interaction with her.
By the time I follow her to an empty section of table and sit down with her, I’m already feeling a little more comfortable. The odd look from the jocks has certainly come my way, mainly from Erika, who is glaring at me through narrowed eyes like she personally owns the cafeteria, and she’s contemplating coming over to kick me out.
“Ignore her, she’s a bitch,” Kasey tells me, plucking a French fry off her food tray.
Glancing away from Erika and down at my own, I smile faintly. “Believe me, I know.”
“So, anyway, the reason I wanted to talk to you is I wanted to see if you’d be interested in writing for the school paper. I cyber stalked you a little bit and discovered you work at a bookstore. Can I assume you like to read?”
“I do,” I verify, unbothered by her admission of stalking. I probably would have stalked her to find out what her deal was, but I was too wrapped up in Carter.
“Okay, so, we’ve decided to add a book review column to the paper, but all of our writers have assignments. We don’t have anyone who was interested in making this their regular beat, and I thought, you’re smart, you read, you work at a bookstore—who better to do the column? Plus, if you’re on the fence, it will look good to colleges,” she adds, to entice me. “I know you have work and youth group and church, but you don’t have any extracurriculars at school. You spend as little time here as you possibly can, and to be perfectly honest, I think being able to add book reviewer for the school paper to your resume would make you look more well-rounded.”
Baffled by the amount of thought she has put into my college resume, I blink at her, searching for a response.
Reaching into the small purse she carries with her, she draws out a white envelope and passes it across the table. “And before you say anything, if you answer yes, you get this.”
I pull the envelope closer and pick it up. Opening it, I find a $100 bill and two $50 bills inside. “What’s this for?”
“Your stipend,” she answers, sounding all proud of herself. “You can use that money to buy the books you want to review. We prefer new releases, but the section is yours to do whatever you want with. If you want to do a spotlight on older releases, that’s fine, too. It’s completely up to you. Just clear the book with the editor, write your review, and that’s it. It’s an easy gig, it’ll look good to the colleges you’re applying to, and you get $200 to spend on books.”
“This is mine?” I question, skeptically. “I can spend all of it on books? I don’t have to pay it back or anything?”
“Nope. You don’t even have to show receipts. You take that money and don’t even mention it again.”
“Don’t mention it?”
“Well, the movie reviewer doesn’t get a stipend, so they’d probably be a little salty. I wouldn’t mention it.”
“Then why do I get one?” I ask.
“Don’t look the gift horse in the mouth,” she advises me. “So, are you in?”
“I guess I have to be,” I admit, fingering the envelope. “Don’t you want some proof I can do the job or something, though? I’ve never written a review before. Shouldn’t I submit some kind of writing sample?”
“I mean, it’s not rocket science. If you’re at a loss for how to write a review, I can direct you to a few good ones so you can get a feel for it. But no, you don’t have to try out. I had you in mind for the position, so if you want it, it’s yours.”
“Well, thank you,” I say, sliding the envelope under my tray. “Do I have to attend the newspaper meetings?”
“Nope. You can if you want to, but it’s not required. You’ll be a designated book reviewer, so you won’t need to be there to get assignments or any of the other stuff concerning the paper. You’ll do your own column, submit it, and that’s it. It really won’t require much from you. I’m sure you would be reading the books anyway, now you’ll just have them paid for and you’ll write a little block of text about it.”
“That’s awesome.” I flash her a smile. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
Kasey smiles. “No problem.”
I start eating my lunch, thinking about which book I’ll read for my first review. Kasey doesn’t seem to mind my preoccupation and we eat in a companionable silence. She checks her phone from time to time and eats her own lunch, and overall it’s a pleasant trip back to the lunch room.
At least, until the seat beside me is suddenly occupied, and I look up to see Luke sitting there. I don’t mean to gape at him in horror as he flashes me a smile, but I do. My gaze jumps across the cafeteria to Carter, and he is looking right at me, a fry frozen mid-air on its way to his mouth.
Oh, my God.
“Um, I—you can’t…” I shake my head, trying to clear out some of the panic. “I’m so sorry, you can’t sit with me,” I tell Luke.
Rather than look offended, Luke merely lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “Why not? This seat reserved for someone else?”
I don’t feel like I have time to explain. Just the fact that he walked over here is going to be incriminating, but for every second that he sits here, Carter is going to be more convinced I really am dating Luke. I don’t know what he can actually do to Luke, but I really don’t want to find out.
My skin feels hot with the adrenaline surging through me. I try not to look at Carter even though I’m tempted. I don’t want to look even more like a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jaw. “Luke, please. I’m not tryin’ to be mean or rude, I swear I’m not, but you need to go back to your table right now.”
He doesn’t move. Instead, he picks up half of his turkey sandwich from his tray like he’s going to start eating. “I might, but you haven’t said why.”
“Carter,” I blurt. “We—we just broke up and I don’t want to rub his face—I mean, not that there’s anything between you and me, but he might think….” Sighing, I say, “Just please go sit with Grace.”
“Ah.” Luke nods, but his expression remains determined. “Carter already told me to stay away from you. Turns out, Carter’s not my boss.” Looking at me more pointedly, he says, “Or yours. You broke up. Why does he have any say who you spend time with?”
“It’s complicated,” I tell him, stealing a glance at Carter. He’s still watching, his eyes darkened with devious intent. Fuck. “Please. I don’t want trouble, Luke.”
“There shouldn’t be any trouble,” he insists, stubbornly. “You’re not in a relationship with him—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I interrupt, since he’s wasting time. “He has a mean streak you might not have seen, but please trust me on this. You don’t want him for an enemy.”
Luke doesn’t move. “I can’t believe you’re letting him control you like this,” he states.
My jaw drops. More that Luke would actually say that to me than anything else. “I’m not letting him control me.”
“Yes, you are. He clearly threatened you and that’s why you’re trying to shoo me away. He threatened me, too, but here I sit.” Unscrewing the cap on his bottled water, Luke suggests, “Maybe I’m not as boring as he thinks I am.”
I cringe. I don’t know what Carter actually said, and I’m too embarrassed to ask. I don’t know if I’m more embarrassed over the possibility of what Carter might have said, or just for Luke in general. I don’t even know how to respond to that. I don’t want to verify that Carter called him boring, but it sounds like Carter said that to him. God, I can only imagine what Carter might have said. And he had my panties! My face flushes about ten different shades of red as I run through the possibilities.
Luke won’t leave, so I don’t know what to do.
I look up at Kasey to see what she thinks of all this, and she is looking at Luke with an expression I can only describe as faintly hostile. It throws me, and for a minute, I stop worrying about Carter to wonder what the hell that’s about.
It takes less than five minutes for Carter to make his way over to the table. I have to admit, I didn’t think he would. Our battle is usually a private thing, just between us. I figured he would keep to his side of the cafeteria and maybe message me later to remind me that I’m not allowed to talk to boys.
Instead, he comes over and stops behind me. He plants his hands on either of my shoulders and does the strangest thing—he starts to give me a casual shoulder rub. “Didn’t expect to see you in here,” he tells me.
“I’m full of surprises,” I offer.
“That you are,” he agrees smoothly. “How are you feeling today?”
I frown and twist to look up at him suspiciously. “Fine,” I say slowly.
His voice is warm, convincingly caring. “Good.” Then he leans in, slides his hand down my core until it’s splayed across my stomach, and says, “It’s too soon for you to be causing Mommy trouble, little guy. You better be good in there.”
I actually feel the color drain out of my face. Kasey’s jaw drops, her eyes popping. I am frozen in shock. Since Carter wasn’t quiet or even remotely subtle, and since he draws attention wherever he goes anyway, when I look down at the rest of the table, I see more wide eyes, friends nudging each other with telling glances, and at the table behind Kasey, people glancing back at us unsubtly while others lean in and whisper.
Carter just effectively told the whole senior class that I’m pregnant with his baby. Those who aren’t sitting close enough to hear will have heard through the grape vine before school lets out today.
When I finally have enough composure to speak, I tell him, “I am going to kill you.”
“Oh, don’t tell anyone,” he adds like an afterthought, smacking Luke on the shoulder in a casually pal-like way. “She hasn’t told her mom yet, so—”
“I am not pregnant,” I interrupt, beginning to seethe again.
This is the kind of rumor that stands a chance of lingering, even long past the point of people seeing I obviously am not pregnant. They won’t know without a doubt that I was never pregnant. Not having a baby doesn’t mean I was never pregnant, it could mean I got an abortion. Getting Jake kicked off the football team made me a prude bitch, but if people think I did that… Well, shit. That’s not going to go over well.
“You won’t rest until you’ve completely ruined my reputation, will you?” I demand.
“Hey, you’re among friends here,” Carter returns. “I’m sure they won’t tell anybody.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m not pregnant,” I say again, glaring up at him. “Least of all with the spawn of Satan, which is what I would be carrying if you impregnated me.”
Carter smiles. “Now, that’s no way to talk about our baby, Zoey. Those hormones are acting up something fierce, aren’t they?”
“Murder,” I say again, my eyes widening. “I’m literally going to kill you. I thought it would be you who murdered me, but no.”
“Oh, shit. Before I forget…” He takes his hands off me, reaches into his pocket, and a moment later he dangles my panties in front of my face. “You left these in my car the other night.”
Kasey covers her face to hide a helpless grin.
I snatch the fabric out of his hands, turning an even deeper shade of red. “I hate you so much,” I inform him.
“That’s all right,” he says, touching my shoulder. “Makes the sex better.” Before I can say anything else, he fists a hand in my hair, yanks me back, and plants a kiss on me. “See you later, babe.”
Humiliation washes over me as Carter walks away. I swipe a hand across my mouth in a vain attempt to wipe away his kiss, but I can still taste him on my bottom lip, and it wasn’t even a deep kiss. My stomach rolls over. I feel like I might actually vomit, but I know it’s just from the immense stress he just delivered onto my shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” Kasey says, apparently ashamed of herself. “I know he just dropped you in a pot full of boiling water, I know it’s not funny, but… damn. That was merciless.”
The funny thing is, this isthe merciful version of Carter. I don’t bother telling her that. I can’t even look at Luke. His brother’s story about the girl who got pregnant by the former Longhorn and essentially ruined her life springs to mind. I wonder if Luke will run to James and tell him what Carter said. When I show up at church on Sunday, will his whole family think I’ve been knocked up by Carter Mahoney? Will someone say something to my mom? I don’t know if she would be sad for me, or absolutely gleeful that I got a hook into Carter Mahoney for the rest of his life.
This is untenable. I can’t believe Carter just did that.
I look over now that he’s back at his table and stumble across the only small measure of satisfaction I can possibly get out of this. Jenna is sitting at Erika’s table, her mouth hanging open as she glares daggers at me. I don’t want to feel so vindictive toward another girl, but she tortured me when she flirted with Carter so much in class the other day. I have to admit, even though I’m horrified by what Carter just did, I’m not all that sad that I got to return the favor.