Chapter 2 Don’t Think About It
Don't Think About It
Carly
There’s a list of ways to combat boredom and procrastinate on a paper that was already assigned to me at the beginning of the week.
At the top of the list? Annoying the fuck out of my twin brother, who is currently prepping for finals. This is why I have my laptop open, ready to start a video call with him, even though he lives twenty minutes away and I’m the one with the car.
I don’t feel like driving, especially with LA traffic. Aside from that, I haven’t bothered Carson in a long time. As his sister, who has the most similar DNA patterns out of everyone he knows, I’m not fulfilling my job description very well.
Carson’s face appears on the screen, and his hair looks like it’s been tousled, messy even by my standards. Either he’s stressed out about his internship, or I interrupted him. From what exactly? I don’t want to know.
“Why?”
I roll my eyes at the screen. “That’s the greeting I get? Wow, little Cars. I’m feeling the love.”
Carson pinches the bridge of his nose, an indication that he’s either pissed off or annoyed. Given the situation, I’m thinking both, but what could I have possibly interrupted?
Thud. “Ow.”
My eyes widen. Even when I don’t want the answers, I still get them. That was a rhetorical question, man!
“Why me?” I mutter under my breath. “Why me?”
Don’t get me wrong—I’m extremely happy for my brother, especially because his girlfriend is awesome. Diana Blanco is probably the only person I think is suited enough to have a relationship with Carson or anyone in my family because we’re one crazy bunch.
It’s times like these that make me regret being spontaneous. There isn’t enough bleach in the world to erase this from my memory.
“You can come up now, Diana,” I assure her, feeling the instant regret of calling Carson.
Diana’s dark head peeks out from the bottom half of the screen, and eventually, I’m able to see her entire face.
Her curtain bangs look more like regular bangs with how they rest on her face, and her red lipstick is a little smudged.
I glance at Carson’s face and see the remnants of the lipstick on his mouth and neck.
At least they’re fully clothed this time. I don’t need a repeat of last Halloween.
“Please tell me you guys finished before I called.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I cringe at the other implication. “Okay, I take those words back. All of them.”
Carson sighs. “You haven’t had any Adderall today, have you?”
I chose to go on meds about four years ago to help regulate my neurons and shit—like every other being with late-diagnosed ADHD.
Do they work? Yeah, that’s only if I remember to take them.
Most times, my memory is like a roll of developed film that’s been exposed to light before the chemicals—there will always be some blank spaces where pictures should be.
I shake my head. “My prescription is empty and I need to get it refilled.”
“Why don’t you do it today?” Diana asks. “The pharmacy’s like, ten minutes away from you.”
“But the traffic,” I groan.
“This is California,” Carson points out. “We’ve lived in this state for our entire lives, and you’re still complaining about the traffic.”
Diana pats his shoulder. “You guys have never driven on the streets in Florida if you’re still complaining about traffic here.”
“Over a year ago, you were complaining about driving in general,” Carson points out before bringing his attention to me. “She gets her license and is now an expert on the road.”
“She’s an expert at not getting carsick,” I tease.
“Way to make me look bad in front of my girl.”
I shrug. “Just calling the shots where I see them. You two have been dating for a while now, so it’s not like she hasn’t seen the worst of it already.
” Carson’s struggled with motion sickness since childhood, and it still follows him into adulthood.
He can’t leave the house without a bottle of Dramamine, but, according to Diana, it’s not as terrible as I claim it used to be.
I refuse to believe her claim until I see him without a bottle of Dramamine the next time I visit him.
“So, Car,” my brother says. “What’s your reasoning for calling me? Now, of all times?” He raises a brow.
I shrug. “Am I not allowed to call my brother?”
“Not without a reason.”
“You should know that there’s always an exception to that.
” I fiddle with the strands of my dark hair, which is almost identical in color to Carson’s.
We’re the epitome of fraternal twins who were identical in a past life.
Same brown hair as our mother, and pale blue eyes like our father.
Even our initials are the same. Similar on the outside, but our interests could not be more opposite.
My brother rolls his eyes at the screen. “Right. Of course, there is.”
“I’ll come back later,” Diana tells Carson. She stands up, bending down slightly to press a soft and sweet kiss to Carson’s lips before waving at the camera. “I’ll see you later, Carly?”
“Bye, Wonder Woman,” I chuckle, waving at the screen.
When she disappears, a laugh leaves my brother’s lips. “So you’ve decided on Wonder Woman, now?”
I nod. “It’s fitting. Her name is Diana, she loves Greek mythology and can talk back to you without hesitation, which is a wonder unto itself. Hence, Wonder Woman.”
“Says the girl who prefers Marvel films over DC,” he teases.
“At least I don’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie,” I retort. Yes, I can talk back too—but I’m his family, so I don’t count.
Out of the corner of my eye, Ali walks by my room and halts in her tracks. “It’s not, Carson. Stop claiming that it is. It will never be a Christmas movie.”
“Nice to see you too, Rios.”
Putting Ali and me in the same room can lead to, according to my brother, complete and utter chaos. See, Ali is the only person in the entire world who matches my energy—she’s as weird and goofy as I am—and I love her like she’s my twin instead of Carson.
“Carly, I have to ask you about something,” Ali tells me. “Are you busy tonight? Like, doing anything that isn’t related to your capstone project?”
I was about to say that I was going to finish editing my capstone project, until I remember I can’t, because all my data is at school, and I don’t feel like driving back this late.
Dread fills my insides. “You’re not setting me up on a double date, are you?”
Ali’s sheepish grin comes into full gear. “Not exactly. See, Vinny and I needed three or more people to reserve a lane at the bowling alley, and we were hoping to bring you and his friend along so that things aren’t entirely awkward.”
I raise a brow. “You mean Vinny’s friend who doesn’t like me?”
“He doesn’t not like you—” She begins to protest before Carson cuts her off.
“Someone doesn’t like Carly?” My brother remarks jokingly. “Someone alert the press.”
Ali narrows her eyes at the computer screen before continuing. “As I was saying—” she clears her throat— “Crew is just very wary of anyone working in the film industry. Besides, it’s just bowling. You still have your bowling ball, right?”
I nod. I do love bowling, and I miss kicking everyone’s asses on the lanes. “As long as you’re actually playing this time.” Though with Vinny around, it’s more likely that she’ll be invested in a game of tonsil hockey.
“Thank you!” She squeezes my shoulders. “We’ll leave at six.”
After she leaves, I move my eyes back to the screen, where I receive an IMAX screening of Carson’s frown lines.
“Did she say Crew?” Carson questions. “As in Crew Shentu?”
I nod, and he visibly winces. Keep in mind, my brother attends USC, the University of Southern California—another university known for enrolling many former child stars—so the last thing he should be feeling is surprise.
However, everyone in my age group knows about Crew Shentu. We practically grew up watching him on screen. Being the son of award-winning actress Teresa Shentu, his name would know no bounds within the industry.
And why he left it remains a mystery.
“Now, I get it.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. “He’s already jumping the gate with you. What first impression did you give him?”
“Nothing. I swear. Crew just heard about me through Ali and Vinny and already made up his mind.” Just by that alone, he’s already as bad as the gossip tabloids that write about him. What a fucking hypocrite!
Soon enough, he’ll learn that there’s more to Carly Ryder than just her career.
“Well, don’t let a first impression skew your view of him,” Carson reminds me. “Or don’t think about him.”
My fingers find my silver Claddagh ring and twirl it underneath my desk. “Kind of impossible. Ali’s boyfriend is his best friend.”
“And you’re gonna kick their ass at bowling.” He smirks. “You know it.”
I nod, feeling a little lighter now. “Thanks, little Cars.”
We talk for a little longer before he hangs up, and I sit on that advice for a while. Yeah, don’t think too much about Crew’s opinion of me.
It should be easy enough to do for a whole night.