Chapter - Nate #3
Carter laughs. “I mean, not yet. But after I come out? It’s pretty much guaranteed there’ll be men all over me.”
Before anyone can respond, he shoots Rachel a playful grin. “Don’t worry, sis. There’ll be enough to share.”
Rachel smirks. “Well, hopefully, some are bisexual. I need to get laid, like yesterday.”
Evan, who’s been quietly taking in the last ten minutes, clearly thinking of the perfect question, finally jumps in. “So, Carter, thoughts on Nate opening a cafe?”
I glare at Evan, but Carter looks at me with these ridiculous puppy-dog eyes and says, “Well, Evan…about that. I tried investing in your brother’s cafe, but he’s too proud to accept my investment offer.
I keep telling him I’m rich and that it’s not a handout but rather an investment.
He continuously denies, denies, denies.”
Evan claps. “Good boyfriend. Good answer. I’ve been telling him for years to take out a loan and bet on himself. He won’t do it.”
“When did this turn into a roast of my life?” I ask, arms crossed.
Before anyone can join the roast, Ian suddenly throws a finger up and yells into his phone, “Hello?!”
Evan whirls his eyes at Ian and gets up to answer the door. “Ian, hang up. I’ll let him up.”
“Don’t be lazy, Ev. I’m ten years younger than you, and I’d walk down a flight of stairs to make the delivery guy’s life easier,” Ian hisses.
Evan actually listens and grabs the food from the dark-haired, scrawny man and runs back upstairs.
Carter leans over and whispers, “I love your family. They’re hilarious.”
Everyone immediately dives into their food, unwrapping sandwiches like it’s a holiday. Carter and I exchange halves like always. Thank God the restaurant listened. No Mayo, anywhere.
About twenty minutes in, Evan says, “Carter, what’s your plan? Are you ever going to tell the world about your lovable bae?”
Carter freezes, caught off guard. He looks between Evan and me and says with a hint of sass, “I’m working on it, dude.”
He’s explained before how guilty he feels sneaking around, barely going out together. It’s only been around six weeks, and I’m not really bothered or in a rush.
In Carter’s defense, I say, “Fuck off, Evan.”
Carter raises a finger. “Don’t worry, babe. He’s right. He just cares about you.”
Evan nods in approval and goes back to eating.
By 7 p.m., Ian jumps up and says, “Alright, children. Time for me to go. I’m much older than you youngsters, and I’ve got kids to tend to.”
Ian lives in Lansdale, about an hour from Evan’s apartment. We all give our goodbyes, including Carter, which makes me smile.
Evan slips away during the goodbyes and comes back, holding a cheap bottle of tequila with a devious grin. “Black out, anyone?”
All five of us look at each other and nod. Evan hands out shot glasses, paper, and pens.
“What the fuck’s this?” Bex asks, winking at Carter, who clearly has no idea what’s happening.
I smile, look at Carter, and say, “We’re playing ‘Who Am I.’ Write a random name, pass it to the person on your left, and hold the paper up to your forehead. You don’t look at the name while everyone else gives you hints.”
Evan adds, “But this is a special version. If you guess wrong, you take a shot.”
Carter grins. “I’m down. But then I’m sleeping here. I’ll just leave super early for my team's film review tomorrow.”
“Fine, if you insist,” Evan says.
We play for about an hour before groaning, “None of us are getting our people, and I’m on my fifth shot.” I open my paper. “How the fuck am I supposed to get Plankton? Isn’t he from Spongebob? That’s so random.”
My siblings all shout together, “You’re a bitch! We’re keeping this party going!”
Carter drops his paper in playful defiance and comes to sit next to me. We peek at his name, Mother Teresa, and burst out laughing.
He whispers, “You’re looking cute, babe. Can’t wait to snuggle later.”
“Oh, that’s what you want to call it?” I say, stroking his thigh.
As Carter traces his hand up my leg toward my crotch, clearly aware my siblings are too wasted to notice, his phone pings.
“Babe, you got a message. Maybe it is Marcus, asking if we are still going out.” I say.
“I already told him, we are not making it out. Let’s enjoy ourselves here.”
I smirk and glance at the screen. “Who’s Charlie Dodds?”
Carter’s eyes light up. He grabs the phone like it’s his most prized possession and stares at it way longer than it takes to read a single, three-word message.
“Charlie wants to meet up in two weeks, during my bye week, ” he says, surprised.
“That’s so random. Do you even know him?” I say.
“Yeah. We used to chat when he came out a few years ago. We never got that close, and we eventually drifted apart. He doesn’t know about me. But I think I want to tell him. He’s been through it all and can tell me what it’s like telling the world I mean.”
“Is this fate bringing you two together?” I joke.
“Shut up,” he says. Then adds, “You’re coming with me.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” he says with absolute intensity in his eyes.
I can’t believe we’re going out together, especially with a retired football player.
I wonder if Carter will actually tell him everything.
Or even tell him about me. What will Charlie even think when he sees me?
A random dude attached to Carter’s hip. Clearly, he will know immediately that we are a thing.
Either way, I don’t care. I’m just happy to tag along at this point.
A little before ten, my siblings, who are drunk out of their minds, silently agree the night’s over. We say our goodbyes. Rachel hugs Carter and whispers something in his ear. I raise an eyebrow.
After they leave and Evan heads to shower, I turn to Carter. “Is Rachel messing with you? What did she say?”
Carter looks calm. “She said if I ever need to talk, she’s always there to listen.”
That gives me chills. Rachel’s a nut, but she’s always been there for me. It’s nice to see she’s already there for Carter, too. I mean, that’s what therapists are for.
This night was better than I expected. I feel like Carter fits right into my crazy family.
Evan, Carter, and I shoot the shit for another hour before we call it a night. Tomorrow is Monday. Evan has work. Carter has a post-game film review. And I have to figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life.