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My brow furrows as I stare at him in confusion. “Okay,” I say elongating the word. “What are you sorry for?”
Sighing, he tips his head back and glances at the ceiling for a moment before dropping it back down and looking directly at me. “For being a douche I guess. I love Tally, she’s like my sister and when we found out about you and her and everything with your parents, I…” he pauses and rubs at the back of his neck. “Well I just assumed you were a fucking bitch and I was a dick to you. So yeah. I’m sorry.”
Blinking, I stare at him for a moment. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look anything but cocky and confident. “You don’t need to apologize,” I tell him bluntly.
“Yeah I do.”
“No you don’t,” I say. “I know you all seem to have jumped on the Carrigan isn’t the devil bandwagon, but you need to stop. I’m not nice and innocent and sweet like my sister is. I’m a bad person and I’ve done truly awful things, and just because I did one thing that was good, it doesn’t negate all the shitty things I’ve done in the past.”
He nods slowly, his eyes assessing me. “I can see how you and Carson ended up together,” he says, shocking me with the change of subject.
“We’re not…” I start, and then swallow down my objections, because we are, kind of.
His familiar smile slips into place again. “I’m not going to be a dick anymore, okay? You’re one of us now, Carson’s my brother and you’re his girl, Tally’s my sister and you’re her twin, so you’re family too. We don’t have to be fucking besties or anything. But I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry and I’m going to stow my bullshit from now on, okay?”
Dumbfounded I just nod, standing frozen as he pulls me in for a hug. Dropping a quick kiss to the top of my head, he drags me into class and to the back row of seats, glaring at the guy in the seat next to his until he picks up his stuff and moves.
The rest of the day is weird. At least one of the guys is in all of my classes and they drag me to the back row where they always sit and made me sit next to them. I haven’t spent a moment on my own all day, and honestly, I’m exhausted. All I want to do is go home, to my real home, and curl up under my comforter in my own bed, only it’s not my home anymore and considering how pissed my parents are, I’d lay money on the fact that the contents of my room have probably been thrown in the garbage by now.
A pang of homesickness washes through me and a melancholy fills me. I don’t miss my parents; they’ve never been a source of comfort for me. But I miss the simplicity of my old life. It was busy, controlled, rigid, but at least I understood it, I understood my purpose and role in it.
This self-doubt and constant questioning of who I am and what I’m doing is starting to drive me crazy. I’m not really a whiney person, yet I feel like the biggest woe-is-me bitch ever right now. So my parents are borderline abusive, manipulative, and evil, whatever, we’re rich, powerful, and connected, most people would put up with anything to live my life.
Firm arms curl around my waist and I’m pulled back into a hard chest as the scent of Carson surrounds me and I sigh with relief. The realization that just this one innocuous touch is enough to instantly calm me is rattling, but I don’t fight it, instead I turn in his arms and burrow my face against his chest, wrapping my arms around his back and clinging to him.
His soft chuckle echoes against my hair as he holds me tight, nuzzling his lips against the top of my head. “Hey baby,” he coos.
“Can we go?” I ask, my face still pressed against his blazer.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just tired,” I tell him, not willing to admit that I just want to be away from his friends and my sister. If I could, I’d go back to the hotel but I know if I suggest it, he’ll go all growly on me.
“You guys ready?” Carson asks the others.
There’s murmurs of assent, but I don’t pay any attention. Carson pry’s me from around him and drapes his arm across my shoulders, leading me toward the front of the school and our limo.
After a full day at school, pretty much everyone has seen us all together now, so we don’t wait around on the steps, heading for the limo the moment it crawls to the front of the line.
“Dinner at ours?” Tally suggests, and I have to hold in a groan.
“I should actually go get my stuff from the hotel,” I say. “If you can drop me off at the Haywood, I’ll grab a cab over to Arlo’s afterwards.”
Carson stiffens, but I smile at him, trying to reassure him.
“I’ll go with you,” he says.
“You don’t need to come, I literally just have a handful of stuff. I’ll grab it, then pay my bill and come straight over to you,” I say with a shrug.
His eyes narrow. “Carrigan,” he says, his voice gravelly and full of warning.
“I’m more than capable of getting my handful of possessions on my own,” I hiss angrily, glaring at him and daring him to argue with me.
“Fine,” he snaps, his eyes narrowed into slits.
Fifteen minutes later, I watch the limo pull into traffic and exhale a slow, ragged breath. Turning, I make my way to the elevator and up to my room. It feels like it’s been weeks since the last time I was here, so much has changed since I spent four days moping and trying to figure out if I should take a risk and ask for help.
The room is pretty much how I left it, my makeup spread out on the small dressing table, the bed made up with crisp white hotel sheets. Dropping my bag and key to the bed, I flop down onto it and sigh wearily. Inhaling slowly, I let my body melt into the comforter, the relief of being alone so overwhelming that tears well in my eyes. It’s not that I don’t want to be with Carson, it’s more that I just feel like I’m pretending and it’s exhausting.
