Page 3 of Carter

“Yeah, fucking run, little weasel!” Carter hollered, and his friends laughed and mimicked the sounds of a wild weasel’s squeal.

When he turned around to face me, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth, I tensed and gaped at him in awe. My heart was pounding in my chest, but it wasn’t because of the fightanymore. For the first time in, well, ever, Carter Matheson was staring at me. He wasn’t staring through me, either. His eyes were focused on my face before they glanced down my body. His eyebrows shot up a tad at what I was wearing: small shorts and a spaghetti strap top that stopped at my belly button. I wasn’t entirely to blame for my lack of modesty when Uncle Russell encouraged it by not saying anything. Besides, girls my age dressed like I did around here in droves. I thought nothing of it at the time.

With bated breath, I watched him take a few steps toward me. He blocked the sun out with his frame and stared down at me. For a few seconds, I just saw him and nothing else. The world fell away when he extended his hand out to me. My eyes flickered down to his open hand, and I would have taken it had I not been entrenched in the ground from shock.

“Come on, Leah, let me help you,” he said to me in the softest voice imaginable.

Leah.

He knew my name. I can’t tell you what that stirred within me. All this time I thought I was some forlorn object in the background of Carter’s life. But no.

He… he knew my name.

I swallowed and reached out for his hand. I waited for the bolt of electricity to spark between us—you know, that delicious connection you feel every time you meet someone that has struck you down with their beauty? I’d never felt it before, and I expected it like my next breath. Instead, I felt warmth as he pulled me up to my feet. His skin was rough, and I held it for a moment longer, feeling a pleasant lick of pleasure run through me before I let it go.

I can still tell you every little detail about this moment. I’d spent nights after reliving it. I can tell you how swallowed up I was in his arctic blue eyes. That the smile on his face hadlessened as he took me in with equal intensity. Or how little his chest moved, as if he too was breathless. I can tell you that although we didn’t have to touch to feel that electricity, I could feelsomethinglike it running between the two of us. It may have been my imagination, but I don’t think so. At least, I’d like to think it was mutual.

It had to be.

“You going to tell me what all that was about?” he suddenly asked me.

“Graeme’s just a bully,” I answered him in a shaky voice.

He looked down suddenly with furrowed brows. I followed his gaze. He stepped off of something and cursed when he looked under his shoe and saw the red streaks along it. I saw the nail polish just then and was horrified the colour had ruined the bottom of his shoe. I bent down to get it just as he did, and our heads slammed together. I stumbled back just as he grabbed my arm and steadied me. Looking at me with a heart stopping grin now, he muttered, “Sorry, babe. Let me grab it.”

Babe.

Sorry,babe.

Oh, my God. I’d have been happy to slam heads all day if it meant him calling me that.

He grabbed my nail polish and stood back up. By now, most of the kids around us had scattered, including his friends who all had returned to their game on the court. I watched him study the bottle before he glanced down at my bare feet. Cringing, I realized my toenails were a mess after I’d lunged at Graeme.

The worst part? I didn’t even have nail polish remover.

“He threw it on the ground,” I muttered, feeling a little awkward now.

“Is that why you jumped at him?” he questioned.

I reddened just then. I didn’t know he saw that. In fact, I was so lost in my anger, I didn’t consider there might have been anaudience the entire time. I could have sworn I saw him playing, though.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

He smiled again. “Nice. I’m not used to seeing girls getting their hands dirty.”

I smiled back. I could be a dirty girl. Hell, I’d be the dirtiest girl around if that meant impressing him.

“You gonna tell me what he said to you? I’d like to go back there and give that little dickhead a few more punches.”

I shrugged. “Nothing that needs to be said out loud again. You don’t need to do anything about it. He got what he deserved.”

I resisted telling him about Graeme’s insults regarding my aunt. I didn’t need a pity party. I also didn’t need to fill him in on how dirty my family was. He might run the other way, or worse, call me a whore too. In hindsight, I know it was silly, because I’m sure everyone knew what my aunt did inside that trailer. But I was twelve. What made sense to me at that age? I wasn’t all that bright. I just had eyes for a certain boy that made a lonely upbringing bearable.

Carter’s lips pursed for a moment as he stared down at me. I could tell he had something to say, but he wasn’t going to say it. Instead, he nodded and said, “Let me take you home.”

“What about your game?” I asked.

He looked past me and at the court. After studying the game for a few seconds, he answered, “They’re doing fine without me.”

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