I’m still mad when I storm into my room. A whole week — I’ll have to be in this damn room all week, all because Carter couldn’t keep it in his pants. Helen definitely won’t let me hang out with Kate in that time. I stand by my window and glare at Carter from my room. I can see into his bedroom easily from here. He’s got his desk pushed up against the window and his bed behind it. Sometimes, if I’m really peering into his room and he’s forgotten to close his curtains, I can see him lying in bed. Carter walks into his room and drops his bag to the floor. He immediately walks to his window and opens it.
“I’m sorry,” he shouts. I glare at him and shut the curtains. I storm down the stairs and grab a box of expired eggs before making my way up again. I drag my curtains aside and push my window open. My movements catch Carter’s attention, and he opens his own window too. He looks so relieved that I hesitate for a second. Then I shake my head and grab my slingshot from my desk drawer. Carter and I both have identical ones that we’d use to throw messages at each other before we got smartphones. I guess messages is overstating it a little — they were mostly insults, and every once in a while, some actual conversations.
I grab one of the eggs and aim for his window. I shoot as hard as I can, and the egg hits him right in the chest. It cracks against his favorite t-shirt, the yolk running down his body. He looks down at it in surprise. Before he has a chance to shield himself, I launch another one. This one hits him right in the stomach. He closes his window in a rush, and the third egg crashes against it. He stares at me and shakes his head. He looks me right in the eyes as he lifts his t-shirt, taking it off. Then he opens the window just slightly and sticks his arm out to clean the glass with his t-shirt before closing it again. He moves so quickly that I don’t have a chance to throw an egg at his arm.
I grit my teeth and slam my window closed before yanking my curtains closed too. I jump into bed. My feelings are all over the place. I should be mad about the fake weed prank, but instead I’m mad about Jennifer. I never liked her — she’s always mean to Kate and me and always acts like she’s so much better than us just because she’s been cheering for longer than we have. Why did it have to be her? The idea of Carter and her makes me feel uncomfortable. I’ve never seen him with anyone, but I’ve heard that he can get quite wild at all the parties Kate and I aren’t allowed to attend. Despite that, I’ve never seen him kiss someone and I haven’t so much as seen him hold a girl’s hand. Logically, I know he’s probably been with girls, though. After all, he’s the school’s quarterback, he’s clever as hell and he’s actually nice to anyone who isn’t me. I’ve always ignored the rumors about him as best as I could, but this time I’m finding it impossible to get the mental image of Jennifer and Carter out of my head. My heart aches thinking of the two of them together.
My phone buzzes and I glare at it when I realize it’s a text from Carter. I click on it and nearly drop my phone. He’s sent me a photo that was clearly taken on his bed. He’s lying down, shirtless, and his jeans are hanging low on his hips. I can see most of his upper body, and he’s got a smug grin on his face. There are some stains from the eggs on his abs, and two small red marks on his skin. I stare at the photo. When did Carter get this muscular? I know football practice is pretty tough, but hot damn. I zoom in on his abs and stare at his body with wide eyes. I felt how strong he is when he held me in the treehouse, and I saw his abs then too, but I was so flustered and sad that I didn’t truly notice. Not the way I notice them now, in the obscurity of my bedroom.
My phone buzzes again, and I drop it onto my face. I groan in pain and rub my forehead. I check my phone to find another text from Carter.
Devil: I’m hurt.
I roll my eyes. I know he isn’t actually hurt, but I am surprised to see the bruises. I didn’t think it’d hurt him much at all. Was I wrong? I feel just a tiny bit bad. I didn’t mean to hurt him.
Devil: I’m really hurt. Didn’t you see the bruises?
I purse my lips and ignore him. I’m so annoyed. Far more than usual. My phone buzzes again and I stare at it through narrowed eyes.
Devil: Minx, I didn’t sleep with her. I swear.
I bite down on my lip. Is he lying to me? Does he have any reason to lie to me?
Emilia: Why would she respond the way she did if you didn’t sleep with her?
Devil: Fuck if I know. She’s crazy. She kissed me at a party a few weeks ago. I was really drunk, so I let her. That’s all.
My heart aches. He kissed her. I knew something must’ve happened between them, but I’m hurt nonetheless. I shouldn’t be.
Emilia: So you got with her? You might not have slept with her, but you made out with her.
Devil: I’m sorry, Emilia
Emilia: You should be. If not for your slutty behavior, we wouldn’t have gotten suspended.
I stare at my screen. It looks like he’s typing, but then he stops and starts all over again. It takes minutes before he actually messages me again.
Devil: I know you won’t believe this, but the rumors you’re hearing about me aren’t actually true. I haven’t slept with anyone, Minx.
I stare at my phone in disbelief. Surely he doesn’t expect me to believe that he’s still a virgin. He’s seventeen. I know most guys his age are already doing it. Besides, I’ve been hearing rumors about him for almost two years now.
Devil: I’m not a slut, Minx. Quite the opposite.
I’m about to reply when I hear the front door slam downstairs. Footsteps rush up the stairs and Helen walks into my room with a furious look on her face. She holds her hand out and I reluctantly hand her my phone.
“I know this one technically wasn’t your fault, Milly. Nonetheless, I’m punishing you both. I don’t mind your little feud and your arguments, but it cannot interfere with school. Carter gets away with a lot because he’s on the football team, but you’ll need your scholarship, Milly. You’re so close to getting a free ride to college. Rein in the pranks, okay?”
I nod. I know she’s only looking out for me and I love her for it, but I do feel like I’m being punished unfairly. Helen grabs my laptop from my desk and takes it with her.
“I’ll leave the TV downstairs, but I’m going to come in randomly and make sure you’re in your room where you’re meant to be. Don’t try me, Emilia.”
I sigh and fall back onto my bed as she walks back out, my portals to the world outside in her hands.
