Ok, so this chapter is a little shorter than I had anticipated. And there are no sexy Lost Boys in it. But I'm hoping you will forgive me when I tell you that if all goes to plan, those vampires that we love will be here again very soon. (Next Chapter.) Maybe. :D
I'm sorry for any spelling/punctuation mistakes I have probably made and failed to correct.
I only own my OC's.
Please review?
"CONAN!" That same voice that had been following me since I had left the Boardwalk was beginning to get closer.
I hadn't been running that long, but I was already worn out.
As soon as I had realised that Carter was following me, I had quickened my pace. To the point where I was now running. There was only a slight part of me that was thankful that I was no where near Shelly by that point.
"Conan." A hand grabbed hold of my forearm now, stopping me in my tracks. The voice sounded somewhat relieved, not to mention out of breath. "Wait." As if I really had any other choice. He had always had a tight hold. But I had never been on the receiving end of his grip this tight before. It would bruise for sure. "You run really fast." He panted. "You know that?" It sounded like he was trying to break the tension. It wouldn't work.
"Look, Conan, what happened back there-" But I cut him off.
"How long has that been going on?" The question had not entered my thoughts, making me curious as to why I had uttered it. But now that the words had spilled past my lips, I found myself wanting, more than anything, to know the answer.
Carter, looked down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. A sign of nervousness. I guess some habits stayed the same. My voice darkened when he still failed to respond.
"How. Long?" I repeated. Now he looked up, meeting my gaze.
"Five years." He mumbled. Did I just hear him right? Five years? But that would have meant-
"You were with her the same time you were with me?" I whispered. I don't know where my courage had gone, but without it, I felt deflated. Like the purple balloon I still had from my sixth birthday that my Mom had gotten me that was now sitting in a shoebox of memories, old and wrinkled.
Now I could no longer help it. I could feel the tears just pooling together, waiting for me to blink and let them fall. He gave a brief nod and looked back at the ground.
If I was honest with myself, if Alex the Ex hadn't treated me the same way that Carter had today: a strong grip and a rough attitude, if I hadn't walked in Alex the Ex him sleeping with the one girl I had actually managed to make friends with in my Grandmothers hometown, I probably would have taken this a lot worse. But that didn't mean I wasn't seriously pissed off now. It just made me feel more prepared. At any other moment, that statement would not have made any sense. But right then, it did.
"How long have you liked her for?" It probably wasn't a good idea to ask that question, but I needed to know. It was clear he hadn't expected me to ask that.
"Since I first met her." His tone was monotonous. As if he had thought about that sentence so many times, he was now bored of hearing it.
"So, why did you say you liked me? Why did you get my hopes up? Because you know something? It fucking sucks to be told those things by the guy that you like, and for them to not be real. It fucking sucks that I'm only finding out about you and her now." My voice had been steadily rising, and I was now shouting. But I wasn't finished. "You know what else fucking sucks Carter? The fact that I had to find out from my half-sister. One of the people I loathe the most on this planet."
"I'm sorry." He told me, shrugging a shoulder, like the topic was pretty much nothing. Which, to him, I guess it was. But he hadn't been left in the dark for four years. Scratch that. Five years.
"Oh you're sorry?" I snatched my arm out of his surprisingly relaxed grip. "Is that supposed to make everything better?"
Before I had left four years ago, my Dad had always told me that he was afraid to stand too close to me whenever we were talking. It was because I did what he called 'Speaking Italian.' I would make wild gestures with my hands, no matter what it was I was talking about. But before he had mentioned it, I had never noticed it.
I was certainly noticing it now though. I was flinging my hands around like there was no tomorrow. I also didn't fail to notice that Carter had taken a precautionary step backwards.
"Well, it's a start?" He sounded hopeful, and I couldn't help but laugh. It was humour less, not to mention pointless. But I did it anyway.
I desperately wanted to go home. But I had one more thing to say.
"You wanna know something else?" I asked him, my voice back to normal. Or almost. It was a little scratched from the shouting tirade I had just completed.
"What?" He asked. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking more like the Carter I had known all those years ago.
"If you had just told me, back then, the way you felt about Amy." I paused to look him dead in the eye. Hoping this would hurt him as much as I was hurting now. "I would have just stepped aside." His face, that had been full of worry for God knows what reason, became emotionless. His shoulders slumped with what I hoped was realisation that he could have avoided this pain.
Feeling somewhat satisfied, I turned and started walking away. Leaving him spluttering and calling my name. But, again, I did not look back.
I undid my shirt to the way it was supposed to be when a sudden gust of wind picked up from seemingly no where, causing goose bumps to arise all over me.
I tuned out the boy who I was now determined to get over. After all, he was not the Carter I had fallen for.
