A/N: So I was told that the story deserves a better summary. I hope the one I changed it too is better. Just a notice, I'm waiting to get the money to buy the Carson Phillip's Journal, so when I do get it and I finally read it, I might end up rewriting some parts being that I'm still so unfamiliar to Carson's character. I'm trying my hardest to live up to the Carson in the movie, please know this. Enjoy chapter four. And thank you so much for all the reviews I've been receiving. It's what keeps me writing!


"There comes you to keep me safe from harm.
There comes you to take me in your arms.
Is it just a game?
I don't know."
- Birdy


Chapter Four

I was rubbing the back of my head, embarrassed and guilty with a red face as I stood before my father. I had just come after he had finished supper. He had cold leftovers left for me that I had eaten as soon as I saw them. Carson had offered to get me food on the way home, but I told him I would be fine. It was when the smell of the leftover food hit my nostrils that I realized that I should have eaten earlier. I ate in silence as he cleared up the trash, soon just standing before me.

He stared at me for the longest time before he said, "You're grounded."

I froze mid-chew of my last bite as I quickly looked up at him. My eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He made a noise and titled his head downwards to the granite of the kitchen island with raised and disapproving eyebrows. "As serious as the time that you came home tonight, Angeline May." He was using my last name. Of course he was angry with me.

I scoffed, trying to speak over top of my sudden frustration and anger. "You can't ground me. You always complained about how I never had a social life, how I wasn't normal."

"I never said you weren't normal." You basically said that.

"And you never gave me a curfew," I accused.

"Because you never went out!" He closed his eyes and his lips formed a thin line as he shook his head. Then he opened them and looked at me. I saw a flicker of realization in his eyes. "It's a boy, isn't it? Who is he? I wanna know." The over-protective father I hadn't seen for years was reappearing. In a way, it was comforting.

I was quiet for a moment before I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at the floor. It felt weird answering this question. Why should he care who this 'boy' is? "Carson Phillips."

My father froze, giving me a confused face. "Phillips?" He sounded disgusted, which made me cringe.

I watched as he sighed unhappily and rubbed his hand over his face.

I frowned. "What."

"Please...just...stay away from that family. They're nothing but troubled people. His mother is a complete mess and it's a wonder why her son isn't," he told me. He sounded so prejudice. I never heard him be this way before.

I slid off of the stool and walked over to him. "Don't say that. You don't know him." And maybe I didn't as much either, but I did know that he was a good guy and that...I really like him.

"Of all the guys in Clover-"

"Dad!" I interrupted him angrily. "I am invisible to the entire school and town. Carson is the only guy that has everseen me."

He looked at me for a long moment before he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, nodding his head silently. "Alright," he murmured. "Alright..."

I uncrossed my arms and slightly tilted my head, giving him a thoughtful look. What was he going to say next. I know him well enough to know he'd never end a subject or argument with just 'alright'.

"Here's the deal. You're off the hook if...he comes over for dinner sometime next week," he told me as he then pointed an index finger at me. "I want to meet this...Carson Phillips."

I laughed. "But we're not dating." My dad was acting like Carson was my boyfriend.

He gave me another confused look. "Angeline, you don't just spend that much time with a guy if you two don't like each other that much," he told me softly. He didn't sound angry or prejudice anymore. He leaned over and ruffled my hair as he moved past me, heading into the living room.

I was left there to my thoughts. Carson was boyfriend material. I just knew it. So maybe it wouldn't be...bad to think of 'what if' situations with him.

I huffed a sigh as I stalked into my bedroom, collapsing on my bed. I felt so tired, so exhausted. I still had homework to do and I still had to get my bath. It was already after nine. I was screwed.


At lunch, Carson and I were talking about our final projects for Creative Writing, in deep conversation about what we were going to write while we ate our lunches and wrote out our plot lines at the same time. We sat by each other, closer than usual with our backs against the tree we usually sat closest to.

By the end of the day, the sky was dark and cloudy while lightning flashed in the distance. That disgusting smell of spring rain hung in the air. I hurried from my class to where I know Carson would be (as usual) before I'd get caught in the on-coming rain. It still hadn't rained yet by the time I passed Malerie who had her camera in her hand, filming the area surrounding her and avoiding me, the rain still hadn't fallen. I stood at the opened doorway to where Carson was. He was typing away at the classroom's computer with that familiar bold-blue flash drive sticking out from the side of the monitor.

He stopped typing for a moment to look up at me with his glasses on. "Hey," he greeted, soon going back to typing.

I licked my lips and ran a hand through my hair, closing the door behind me as I walked up to the desk. "Look, I'd hate to be bothering you while you're writing, but I needed to talk to you about something quickly."

He motioned to the nearest desk. "Sit down," he commanded mono-toned.

I sat down where he directed and sat my backpack down beside my, folding my hands together as I waited for him. A few minutes passed as I sat there patiently.

"You're not bothering me," he said softly finally as he straightened his back and looked at me. "What's up?"

I wrung my hands together. "Look, my dad went spastic when I came home last night. He agreed to let me off the hook on one condition," I told him carefully.

Carson made a face and motioned with his hand, telling me to keep going.

"He wants you over for dinner sometime next week."

He didn't seemed fazed. "Alright..." he mumbled with a quick shrug of his shoulders. He went back to typing.

I let out a short sigh. "That's it? No-"

"Look, I understand. Your dad, I'm assuming, has a problem with my family. I wouldn't blame him," Carson said as he kept typing.

I sat back in my seat, my arms crossed over my chest. "Alright then. Um. How's Wednesday?"

"Fine by me. I never have any plans besides the school newspaper and homework," he said, still typing. He pressed a button, stopping with his typing as all of a sudden, the nearby printer started up and began spewing out printed pages. His story, I was guessing.

He got up and walked over to the printer.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He shook his head as he pulled out the pages. "No. Do you think you can help me though?" Carson asked me instead.

Carson was different. Like he wasn't as upset as he was yesterday. It felt great to see this.

"Sure. What do you need help with?" I asked him as I got up and walked over to him. He was setting the printed pages on a nearby desk as he refilled the printer with blank paper and it kept printing.

"Can you help me with folding these?" he asked as he motioned to the pages.

Without saying anything, I sat down at the desk and began folding just like he had asked.

"Did your mom say anything?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Nope. Giving her the silent treatment," Carson answered casually but with some sarcasm.

After all the papers had been printed, he began unpacking the hundreds of leftover literary magazines from the boxes and began adding my folded pages to them.

"What's this?" I asked as I continued to fold carefully.

"My own story I'm adding to these babies. I'm gonna donate them to my gramma's nursing home. It was a last-minute decision," Carson said as he continued to load them up.

When everything was ready and he had reloaded the boxes up with the magazines, I got up myself, raising my hands above me and bending back until my back cracked. I groaned with a yawn as I stood straight up again, looking at Carson, who was watching me.

He grabbed a magazine and held it out to me. Happily, I took it. "Can't wait to read it," I told him as I rounded him and headed over to where my backpack was.

"Angel, what is this?"

He still called me Angel. It was like he refused to call me by my full name. It was still weird.

I froze and turned to him, my face red as my heart began increasing in beat. "What do you mean?" I asked as I carefully put the magazine into my backpack where it wouldn't get bent.

"This..." He motions between us. "I don't know how to describe it," he said quickly as he shook his head.

A soft fear was crowding my mind. What if he didn't want anything with me? What if I was just...there. Someone he just got along with but never cared about. I gulped strongly and tried to hide the fact that I was shaking. "W-what do you want it to be?" I asked softly.

He stared at me for a moment, his face thoughtful. "I don't know," he finally answered. It felt like I had been holding in my breath for too long. "I just..." I looked away, waiting for him to continue as I zipped my backpack back up and flung it over my shoulder. I hesitated before I turned around to face him again.

"I really like you, Angel." He looked sincere. He walked over to me and my breath caught in my throat.

He moved closer to me and before I knew it, he brushed his knuckles against my cheek. I looked up at him, forgetting to breathe as I watched him carefully. My cheek felt like it was burning from the contact. Electricity. And then he was leaning closer and closer to me until his lips brushed against my opposite cheek. He moved back quickly, giving me a quick, promising smile as he moved away and grabbed a big stack from the opened box of magazines.

"I'm going to go take this to my gramma's nursing home. I'll see you tomorrow," he said rather cheerfully. He seemed...happy.

Lightning flashed in the sky, lighting up where the sun was no longer found. It hadn't rained yet. He opened the door and walked out.

I remembered to breathe, my chest falling and rising quickly as I watched him disappear. But it was the rush of adrenaline that made me jolt. I hurried around the maze of desks and out the door. Carson was just at the steps when I yelled for him.

I sprinted over to him where he turned around and looked at me with a confused face. This is it, I told myself. Make your move. I've never been kissed before. I didn't know what it would actually feel like. But at the moment, I felt like I could do anything. So I stood a few feet away from him, my eyes locked with his as I breathed heavily, suddenly nervous and scared. I can do this.

Quickly, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. It was quick, simple, and just enough to know what it really felt like. His lips were soft. Softer than I had ever imagined a man's lips to be. It was almost as if my lips formed to his perfectly in those quick two seconds. I had moved back before he could even react.

His eyes were closed, but they soon opened slowly to look at me.

He was blushing.

I jumped and yelped at a suddenly loud rip echoing from the courtyard before the parking lot. Carson turned around to see where it came from as my eyes fell to a smoking tree that was falling to the ground. It had been struck by lightning.

My heart was pounding like crazy, I could hardly breathe. Carson then turned to look at me and there was something in that moment that Carson smiled widely and I did as well. And then we were laughing. It was the first time I ever heard him laugh. It was beautiful and I loved it to bits and pieces. And his smile – I had never seen him smile like that before. It was perfect. He was perfect.

In that moment, I realized that I had strong feelings for Carson.