Page 32 of Loving Carter

“I can find my own person to date,” he says quietly, reaching out and softly tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Then he turns slightly, goes to the driver’s side of his truck, and gets in. I turn to my car and sit in the driver’s seat. Through the windshield, I watch him drive off. I should be happy. We’ve sorted this out.

But I don’t feel happy. I feel sad. My whole world has been turned upside down, and it’s very upsetting.

At the moment, though, I’m also upset because I feel...I don’t know, tingly? When he tucked my hair behind my ear, I felt a little jolt of awareness. That’s never happened before. Maybe it’s the topic? Maybe I’m flattered that he’s attracted to me. I mean, I don’t feel the same way about Carter that he feels about me, right? Am I really attracted to him or am I just reacting to what he said?

“Arrgh!” I scream inside my car. That helps. I feel better now, so I start the car and head home.

Chapter Five

Carter

When I was young, Iwas always looking for ways to improve any situation. However, I rarely succeeded. Most times, I’d twist and convolute things until they were so complicated, they were bound to fail in a spectacular manner.

That’s what is happening with Skylar. I was briefly attracted to her, so I overreacted and threw her together with Gabe. Now she’s mad at me, and who knows if things will work with Gabe. When I think about that, I’m not a happy camper.

But I should be. I should be thrilled if the two of them get together. It solves my problem. If she’s dating Gabe, I won’t be attracted to her. Convoluted plan, I know, but it will work. I haven’t sunk so low in life that I’d go after another guy’s girlfriend.

A fellow’s got to have some morals.

Fortunately, the ranch keeps me busy so I can’t dwell on it. Today, I’m fishing with a group of six kids. Normally, one of the teen counselors we’ve hired would do this, but they’re all busy. Just as well. Sitting around the pond will do me good.

I gather the poles and a bucket of bait, then walk down to the cabins and get the group. There are four boys and two girls, all tweens. I lead the way to the pond, which is about half a mile from the cabins. On the way, the boys show off, and the girls laugh at them.

Based on the way I’ve been behaving lately, I’ve found my peer group. I’m as dorky as these tween boys.

When we reach the pond, I position the kids in a straight line. I want to be close to them in case one falls in. The pond isn’t very deep, but you can drown in a puddle, so I’ll keep watch. There are a few logs nearby that I have the kids pull up to use as chairs.

One of the boys starts throwing his line in the water, sans worm.

“Hold up. Don’t scare the fish. The goal is to drop a baited line in the water. You want the fish to snag it on the way by,” I explain. “You need to be subtle.”

I open the bucket of bait, figuring one or more of the kids will be grossed out. Today, though, two of the boys and one of the girls immediately look in the bucket at the worms.

“If I catch a fish, can I throw it back?” one of the girls asks. “I don’t want to keep it. Just look at it.”

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