Chapter 44

Over the next couple days,I spin a dozen different plans to distract Carter and sabotage his academic standing. I study up on Sara to see which classes she’s taking so I can get an idea of how the hell I can get ahead of her. The main problem I see is that she’s in AP math classes and I’m not. It’s hard as hell to leap frog someone who is acing a class that scores them more GPA points than mine. I need her to be weak in another class that I can ace. The problem is, she isn’t. The dumbest thing about her seems to be that she likes Carter, and I can’t very well blame her for that.
So, that’s inconvenient. Why couldn’t he just have a bimbo for a rally girl?
By Thursday, I feel terrible about all my plans of sabotage. This isn’t me. I’m not a saboteur. I don’t scheme and deceive to get my way. If I get out of this town only because I played like that, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to feel proud of my own accomplishments.
Thursday is also the day of a math exam that I have to ace if I stand a chance of catching up to Carter. I’ve been studying my ass off for it, practicing exam questions until my vision blurs, but math is my weakest subject. I tend to get vaguely anxious halfway through every exam, and by the second half, I end up missing a couple of questions that I know the answer to when I get the test back.
I bet Carter doesn’t let any exam psyche him out.
As mad as I am at myself for it, I text Carter when I get to school and tell him I need to see him as soon as he has a minute. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do or say to him until the moment arrives. I go back and forth, warring with what I need and what I’m willing to do.
I’m at my locker putting books away and getting out my history book when he shows up.
“You rang?”
I sigh, closing my locker door and looking over at him. “Did you know you’re on track to be the class salutatorian?”
He blinks, clearly not expecting me to say that. “I’m aware of that, yes.”
I nod, my gaze dropping. I don’t have math until after lunch, but it’s Carter’s next class. “Is that because of Sara?”
Carter frowns and pushes off the locker, appearing out of his element. Whatever he thought I summoned him for, this isn’t it. “No, it’s because I have a brain. I told you that before. You called me here to ask about my grades?”
“I need you to throw the math exam today,” I state, without further preamble.
His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Excuse me?”
This is lower than I want to stoop, but not as low as I could go, so I try to soothe myself with that. “Remember I told you about the school I wanted to go to? Top ten percent isn’t enough for a full ride anymore, only valedictorians and salutatorians get it. If I don’t graduate second in our class, I can’t afford to go. I’ll end up at University of North Texas in Dallas, and I’ll have to commute from home. If I don’t catch up to you, I’m never gettin’ out of this town.”
“And if I bomb the math exam, you’ll catch up?”
“Not exactly. Your damn rally girl is in the spot between me and you, but the counselor thinks I can catch up to her if I work really hard.”
The corners of Carter’s mouth tip up in amusement. “Yeah, she’s a smart cookie. Makes good cookies, too.”
Ignoring him, I go on, “I can’t catch you, though. The AP biology class you took last year puts you ahead of me if you ace all your classes this year, even if I ace mine, too. I need you to get a B in math, which means…”
“I need to bomb this test,” he says, following along.
I nod, not quite able to look at him.
“And what do I get out of it?” he asks.
“The pleasure of knowing that for once, you made a positive difference in my life?” I suggest hopefully.
Carter smiles and shakes his head. “Try again.”
“I’ll name the baby after you,” I deadpan.
He shakes his head again. “Nah. We’ll name him something else. Creeps me out to imagine you calling out my name and talking to a kid.”
I sigh, exasperated. “What do you want?”
“If you have to ask that, maybe you don’t deserve to be the class salutatorian,” he suggests.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You want me to prostitute myself, is that it? You want to fuck me? Fine. Throw the math test, and I’ll let you fuck me. Or not let you, if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”
Carter shakes his head. “Once isn’t enough. Twice, and you’ll be my date to homecoming, which will likely mean a third time. That seems like a fair deal.”
“I’m not going to homecoming,” I tell him. “I’ll agree to three fucks, but not homecoming. I don’t have a dress, I don’t have the money to buy one, and no, before you offer, I do not want you to buy me a homecoming dress.” Lighting up my phone, I see we both have less than a minute to get to our next class. “I have to go or I’m going to be late. Deal, or no deal?”
Carter nods once. “Deal.”
Relief trickles through me and I feel myself soften. Sure, he made me bargain for it, but I sort of can’t believe he’s willing to do this for me. “Thank you.”
Carter smirks and takes a step forward. Bringing a hand up behind me and cupping my neck, he draws me close and bends his head to seal our deal with a kiss. “You can thank me later.”

It’slunch time on Friday and I am sitting in my car, eating a PB&J and reading the new book I bought to review for the school paper. My cell phone starts vibrating in my cup holder, so I glance at the screen. It’s a phone number I don’t recognize, so I slide a bookmark between the pages and close my book, grabbing the phone and answering it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Zoey?”
It’s a woman’s voice, but not one I recognize. “Yes, I’m Zoey,” I tell her.
“Hi Zoey, this is Angela Mahoney. Carter’s mom,” she offers for clarification.
“Oh. Um, hello,” I say, awkwardly.
“Carter gave me your number,” she explains. “I was wondering if you were free tonight. Carter has an away game, as you probably know. His father and I intend to go, but Chloe gets bored of going to every game. She wants to stay home tonight. Normally I’d just stay with her, but Carter suggested you might be interested in babysitting to make a little extra money. I pay very well.”
I’m floored that she’s calling me in the first place, but to babysit Chloe? I would find it hard to say no to that even without the enticement of good pay. Chloe is adorable, and now that I know she’s technically Carter’s daughter… well, I’m still not sure I’ve wrapped my mind all the way around that, but it makes the offer even more compelling.
“Sure, I could probably do that,” I tell her.
“Wonderful. I’m so happy to hear that. I was afraid you might hold a grudge for the way Kevin behaved when you were here before.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I merely offer a half-hearted, “Oh, no.”
“He’s a bit of a grump sometimes and he doesn’t always approve of Carter’s promiscuous ways, but I think my husband will be much nicer to you now that he realizes you’re not one of those girls. That Carter trusts you to watch Chloe speaks volumes. Carter doesn’t trust anybody, but he clearly trusts you. I’m so sorry your first impression of us was what it was. I hope you’ll give us a chance to make a better one.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that Carter and I broke up, so my impression of them no longer matters. Instead I finish the conversation as politely as possible, go over the details of the babysitting job, and tell her my lunch is nearly over so I have to go, but I’ll see her then.

Chloe is already eatingdinner when I arrive at the palatial residence Carter calls home. Angela gives me a tour of the house, showing me Chloe’s bedroom and going over her routine. She assures me I don’t need to give Chloe a bath tonight, just help her change into her pajamas and read her a story before she goes to sleep. She shows me to the media room, in case we want to watch a movie. Apparently Chloe is on a Sing kick right now. If we want to play video games, she redirects me to the living room. I get acquainted with the board game closet and Chloe’s designated playroom.
As we head back into the kitchen, Angela tells me, “We pretty much let her eat whatever she wants for snacks. We have plenty of stuff in the refrigerator and cupboards. If you’re feeling ambitious, you could bake some cookies or cupcakes.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Chloe says, bouncing in her seat. “I wanna make cookies!”
Angela smiles at her, then looks back at me. “She has crackers and fruit snacks and all sorts of things in the cupboard. She likes to snack on pretzel sticks. Whatever she wants, she’ll tell you. She’s far from shy about expressing her desires.”
I crack a smile, thinking she must get that from Carter. Since I obviously can’t say that to his mother, I nod my head and say, “Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”
Clasping her hands together, she looks around and says, “I guess that’s it. You girls have fun. Can we get a good luck cheer from Carter’s favorite cheerleader?”
Chloe throws her hands in the air and calls out, “Go Longhorns!”
Angela smiles. “There we go. I’ll pass it along. I’m sure they’ll win now.”
Chloe nods, looking at me seriously. “My brother’s really good at football. He wins a lot.”
I offer a smile back. “I know he is. I went to one of his games.”
“There’s too many of them,” she informs me.
“That’s a true story. There are an awful lot of them. You can take a break tonight and hang out with me.”
Nodding her head, Chloe grabs her juice box and takes a drink. “We can make Carter cookies for when he gets home. And I’ll eat some of them, too.”
“Naturally. Gotta give ‘em a taste test and make sure they’re delicious.”
“Exactly. See, she knows,” Chloe says.
Angela walks over to the counter and grabs her purse. “I do believe you ladies will fare just fine.” To me, she adds, “Thanks so much for watching her.”
“No problem,” I assure her, heading over to the table to keep Chloe company while she finishes eating.

After a long nightof playing and baking cookies, it’s time to read Chloe a story and put her to bed. She informs me no one but her family has ever put her to bed before and I’m doing it “weird,” and I don’t know what that means.
Sitting on the edge of her bed with the finished storybook in my lap, I inquire, “How am I supposed to do it? I’m new to this. I don’t know the drill.”
“Don’t you have a little brother or sister?”
I nod my head. “I do. I have a younger brother, but I don’t put him to bed. I did a couple times when my mom was sick, but usually older siblings don’t do that. Not in my house, anyway. Maybe you do things differently at your house.”
Chloe nods. “Carter puts me to bed a lot. Our mom gets sleepy sometimes and she stays in bed a long time.”
Absently reaching out and smoothing a long, dark strand of hair out of her face, I murmur, “That must be kind of tough, huh?”
“Yeah. I don’t like when she’s sad. I like when Carter puts me to bed though, he does funny voices when he reads stories.”
“I didn’t think of funny voices. My bad. If I ever babysit you again, I’ll make a note.”
“You should ask him for some tips,” she advises.
Biting back a smile, I assure her, “I’ll do that.” Pushing off the bed, I cross the room and return her storybook to the bookshelf, then walk back over to tuck her in. “I don’t know the correct protocol. Should I give you a forehead kiss?”
Chloe pulls the covers up to her chest and nods. “Sure.”
“Okay.” I smile and lean down, kissing her little forehead. “Have sweet dreams. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs in the living room until someone gets home.”
“G’night, bookstore lady.”
“Good night, Chloe.” I pause to turn out her light, steal one last glance at her and her nightstand to make sure she has her water bottle, then I pull the door shut behind me.
I intend to go directly downstairs so I can start studying, but I can’t help a faint stirring of curiosity when I go to walk past Carter’s bedroom. His door is closed, but my hand finds its way to the knob and it twists easily. I don’t know why I imagined he might have his bedroom door locked, but I’m surprised when it easily unlatches and drifts open. It shouldn’t be so easy to penetrate his sanctuary, when in so many ways, he is so well-guarded.
I shouldn’t be in here when he isn’t home, when he hasn’t invited me, but as I look at his bed, I can’t help thinking about when I slept here with him and missing it. Since he isn’t here to witness it, I climb onto his unmade bed and crawl under the covers, pulling them up around me. His bed smells like him. I close my eyes and breathe it in, memories stirring of his arms around me. His lips on my skin.
God, I hope he hasn’t brought anyone else in this bed since me. My heart aches at the thought, even though I know he can now and he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. Since he went to Erika’s when we were on the brink of a relationship, it’s probably unreasonable to imagine he hasn’t slept with anyone now that he’s completely single again.
I relax in Carter’s bed for a few more minutes, thinking about him, then I drag myself out of the bed and wander around. I don’t want to invade his privacy by outright snooping, going through drawers or anything, but I glance at the surfaces to see what he’s left out, unguarded. His history book is sitting out on top of his desk. There’s a little desk lamp and some scattered folders and notebooks. His school things.
I see a paper sideways and hanging out of his history book and I can’t resist opening it up to see what it is. Probably just notes, nothing exciting.
But when I open it, it’s not notes. It’s one of his sketches. And it’s a sketch of me. In the picture, I’m sitting at my desk with my elbow propped on the surface, my face propped on my palm, gazing out the window. He’s clearly got some skill, because this is just lead spread across a sheet of paper, but looking at it, I can feel the girl’s longing to be somewhere else. Maybe it’s because I know it’s me, but I don’t think so. I think he really captured me and committed me to paper. This is amazing.
I wish I could tell him it’s amazing, but then he’d think I went snooping around his room. Since I can’t keep the sketch, I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and snap a picture of it. After sliding my phone back into my pocket, I tuck the sketch between the pages and close the heavy history book.
No point looking around at more stuff I can’t ask about. I’d rather explore his room with him on the bed watching me, not alone, feeling like I’m being sneaky.
I go downstairs instead. His mom told me earlier Chloe would go to bed long before they got home, so I take advantage of the quiet to get out my own school stuff and do a little studying. Actually, a lot of studying. I study and study and study until the words stop making sense and I can’t stop yawning. I didn’t sleep well last night and I woke up before my alarm today, so I’m exhausted.
Deciding to take a short study break, I mark my page and leave my study materials on the coffee table, then I lie down on the couch, pulling one of the decorative pillows under my head.
I just need five minutes to rest my eyes, then I’ll get back to studying.