Maggie
So I went to Carter’s house to make things right, and instead I just . . .
Kissed him.
I know, okay?
I know.
I thought the truth would come out naturally during the call with Layla.
It did not.
I wanted to tell Carter about Vivian after that, I really did.
But I also wanted to kiss him.
Like, a lot.
So I did.
And he kissed me.
And it felt right.
I’m tired of trying to convince myself that not being with the guy I’ve liked more than anyone in my whole life is a good
thing.
So we made out that night. I thought maybe I’d regret it afterward.
I did not.
So we made out the next night.
And again a couple days after that.
And a bunch of other times in the past few weeks.
Including right now.
Yes. We are making out right now.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Carter says, his lips brushing mine, his hand tangled up in my hair.
“Hard same,” I say, more or less lying on top of him, as much as that’s possible in the back seat of his not-so-large vehicle,
Toro. We’re parked under some trees at Brisby Brook Park, which has become a regular spot for us. I like it because it’s romantic.
And also hidden.
“Let’s stay here till tomorrow,” Carter says, his hand sliding down my back toward my butt.
“I wish.” I move my mouth to Carter’s neck, then kiss a ladder back up to his lips. “I have to leave in a bit. Going out to
dinner with Mom and Ron.”
“Just skip it. They’ll be fine.”
“Trust me, I would love to. But it’s, like, a celebration.”
“Oh.” Carter moves his head to the side. “Of what?”
Dammit. Why did I say that word? I want us to keep kissing.
Maybe I can make up some other good news Mom, Ron, and I would be celebrating. Like, that we got a puppy or something. A miniature
schnauzer! Named Dipsy!
I have to tell him.
“I, um . . . officially decided to go to Delaware.”
“Oh man!” Carter says. “That’s really exciting, Mags.”
“Thanks.” But already I see his mind spinning, his light dimming. I try to kiss the brightness back into him. “Are you okay?”
I ask.
“Yeah, of course,” Carter says, staring past me at the car ceiling. “I just . . .”
“I know.” I shift my body off his, and we both sit up. “I’m sorry.”
The few times college has come up since we got back together, it’s had this effect on Carter.
I get it, but I’d prefer not to talk about it.
I want to focus on how his tongue tastes.
On how good it feels when he touches me.
When it’s just the two of us, escaping the rest of the world.
No talk of the future. Or the past. Just the present.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Carter says. “It’s great. You’re going to college. You should go to college. Like Lincoln. Like Manny. And I’ll stay here, and when my birthday comes, I’ll probably loop back and forget
you anyway, so it’s whatever, you know? And, unlike this time, I won’t even see you in the hall at school, so—”
“Hey,” I say, putting a hand on each side of Carter’s face and looking into his eyes. His beautiful green eyes. “Maybe don’t
think about that yet, okay? Let’s just . . . Let’s be here together now. You know?”
After a moment, Carter nods, giving me such a sweetly vulnerable look that I must kiss him again immediately. Our lips touch,
and something inside me uncoils. He’s very good at kissing.
“Do you think,” he says between kisses, “apologizing to Layla might actually be the thing?”
I pull back and stare at him.
“That gets me out of this?” he clarifies, as if I don’t understand what he’s talking about.
“Well,” I say, because of course I know there’s no way that apology will do what he’s hoping it will. “I mean, I think . . .
DUCK!”
“What?” Carter says.
I tackle him down to the seat so that we won’t be seen by the people I know who are walking perilously close past our window.
“Whoa!” Carter says. “What’s happening?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, an inch from his face. “This girl Renata from school was passing by with some other folks. Renata’s friends
with Marigold, and Marigold’s friends with Chord, so, you know . . .”
“I see,” Carter says, a smile in his voice. “Not intense at all.”
“I feel bad, okay?” I say, laughing.
“But you did break up with him, right?”
“Of course!” I ended things with Chord the day after Carter and I first made out. (I haven’t been cheating on him this whole
time. I’m not a total monster.) “But I didn’t say it was because of you, so I . . . I just don’t want him to know about us
yet.”
“Fine, all right,” Carter says, resting his hands lightly on my back. “But that doesn’t explain why your mom can’t know about
us either. Unless you’re worried she’s gonna tell Chord during one of their regular FaceTimes.”
“Ha!” I say. “Touché. I guess it’s like . . . I don’t know. Everything’s so bonkers with Mom’s wedding coming up. She’s out
of her mind enough already. I want us to be able to figure out what this is before bringing other people—and their opinions—into
it.”
“Will your mom have an . . . opinion about me?”
“I’m not really sure,” I say, scrambling for words. “But she knows how painful it was for me last time when you . . .”
“Yeah, I get that.” Carter’s hands slide under my shirt, up along the skin of my back. “Though, I hate to break this to you—I’m
pretty sure my parents are on to us.”
Seeing as I’ve been to his house three more times since that first night, always hanging out in his bedroom with the door
closed, that makes sense.
“I know.” I slip my hands under Carter’s T-shirt, up along his chest. I move my mouth closer until it’s a millimeter from his. “And soon everyone else will know too. Okay, Carter Cohen?”
“Okay, Maggie Spear.” He presses my body toward his before kissing me again. “I gotta admit,” he whispers into my ear. “The
hiding thing is kinda hot.”