CHAPTER 18 #2
Kneeling in the dirt with Carter holding my hand, I very nearly could’ve laughed. “You didn’t actually like me, then. Not like that.”
“I think you’re great, Eleanor.” Something urgent filled Carter’s expression.
“When you DM’d me back in April, I truly thought it was fate.
They’d finally stop with the snide comments about my love life, they’d stop trying to set me up with their friends’ daughters, and…
well.” A blush stole across his cheeks. “When you’d told me you were going to attend Mullhound in the fall, I thought it’d be perfect. ”
“Perfect,” I echoed, and the words spelled themselves out in my head on instinct. P-E-R-F-E-C-T.
“I thought, after spending time with you, we were on the same page.”
You’re different from everyone else, he’d said last week.
I get this feeling that… you’d understand.
He could see my motives from the beginning, because his had always been similar.
But his had been born even before I’d known Mr. ASMR was Carter Pembleton, because Carter knew who I’d been from the very beginning.
His real name had been private, but mine hadn’t been. He’d known, and he’d plotted.
I couldn’t be that upset because he was just like me.
“And I…” Carter still held onto my hand, fingers brushing across my knuckles in a way that was almost soothing. “I heard the recording.”
“What recording?”
“The day we filmed our chess matches at Alderton-Du Ponte. I’d set up the camera and the microphones. You turned off the camera when Beck came in, but the mics… they were still recording the audio.”
Almost like a bomb dropping from high in the sky, the impact took a moment to actually hit me.
The mics were still recording. I’d reached over, pressed the red button on the camera to stop it, but it hadn’t stopped the mics.
The camera hadn’t captured Beck sitting down and playing chess with me, but the microphones had.
I sucked in a breath, frantically trying to remember I’d said—what Beck had said. All I could remember, though, was his leg sliding up mine, his electric gaze unwavering. Morally corrupt is my favorite version of you.
“It’s okay,” Carter insisted, holding my hand tighter, refusing to let me pull back. “It’s—it’s okay. But I realized it more then. We are on the same page. And I’m not upset, Eleanor. I’m… glad.”
Carter was officially the most bizarre boy I’d ever met. Eccentric was quite possibly the best word for him. “You’re glad that I thought about using you to impress my dad?”
“It made me feel less guilty if we were both using each other.”
The funny thing was that it was clear Carter felt bad about it.
He couldn’t meet my eyes, and his neck and ears were red from the embarrassing confession.
I thought back to our first meeting, getting coffee, and how he’d only seemed to relax after I offered the idea not to view it as a date. Just friends.
“Just… if you could meet them once. Prove to them I’ve actually got a girlfriend, that you’re actually real, and then…
maybe a few times over the summer. Just once or twice.
Just to keep them off my back.” His eyes bounced around, as if the plan was unfolding before him now.
“And then, when school starts, I can just say our schedules were too busy. It’d actually work out for you better in the long run—my dad will feel so bad that I wasted your time that he’ll take you under his wing. I know him. I’m sure of it.”
“A fake relationship.” I gave a soft, hollow laugh. I thought about Daisy. “I have a different girl in mind that’d work well for that.”
Carter gently shook his head. “You… would be perfect.”
I think you’d be perfect for what I need. Now it made more sense. Not want, but need. P-E-R-F-E-C-T. A word I’d come to be synonymous with my name. Eleanor Brighton. Perfect.
It was the first time that it didn’t settle me.
You don’t have to be perfect for someone to be proud of you, Beck had said. Being perfect is so boring.
“We can tell Beck, if you’d like,” Carter said suddenly, as if speaking directly to my thoughts.
“W-What?”
“I told you I heard the recording. I know you like him.”
Like I did with almost everything in my life, I ran through the possibilities like pieces on a chessboard.
One move, and everything shifted. If I told Beck that Carter proposed a fake relationship, I could just see his snarky sneer now.
Pathetic, he’d say. The things you’d do just to be perfect, he’d taunt.
Even though it wouldn’t be for me this time, and I’d be doing it for Carter, I wasn’t sure Beck would see it that way. I wasn’t sure he’d believe me.
“I’ll… think it over,” I murmured, more to myself than to Carter. “If I tell him, I’ll give you a heads up.”
Carter just nodded.
“If we’re friends, though,” I went on, “you can call me Nellie.”
“Nellie,” Carter repeated, and then smiled. “Thank you, Nellie.”
The relief in Carter’s eyes was so clear. It almost transformed their color, the soft blue melting with the release of tension. “Speaking of, are you going to ever post the video of our chess match?” I asked. “Or are you too embarrassed for your followers to see you lose?”
“I was saving it as a birthday present,” he told me, donning his sheepish smile once more. “Sorry for keeping you in suspense.”
A new voice cut in. “Mom just pulled into the garage.”
I nearly yelped at the sound of Jamie directly above me, and I craned my neck to find him leaning against the jamb of the patio door.
Jamie nudged his glasses up. “So I think you should go, Carter.”
“Yes, you should go,” I said, pushing to my feet and all but hauling Carter up with me. “Saturday is our party. You should come—and you should bring your parents.”
Carter nodded, allowing me to push him toward the gate. “Thank you again, Nellie.”
The gate made more of a sound latching than I would’ve liked, but I hesitated in turning around, afraid to face my brother. The strange expression was still on his face, squinting at me like the sun was in his eyes.
It made me nervous. “How much did you hear?”
Jamie, with his hands in his pockets, shrugged. “How much do you not want me to have heard?”
The fake relationship. The deal we made. The fact that Carter said I liked Beck.
With the door open, I could hear Mom’s voice call through the house. “Kids? Where are you?”
“Out here, Mom!” Jamie called, barely turning his head. He stared me down, and I held my breath, prepared for him to rat me out. Of course he would. He wouldn’t even let me call Carter because he was too loyal to the wardens, so of course he’d say something to Mom now.
But at the last second, my twin just sighed, for once taking my side. “We were just getting some air.”
I let out a breath, whispering, “Thank you.”
Jamie let me walk past him into the house first, and he lowered his voice to a whisper of his own. “Who do you think called Carter in the first place?”