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“Well, you’re still hiding them, which means you still care about their opinions.”
“It’s hard to let go of something when it’s drilled into you.”
I know what he is talking about. It took me a while to accept my scars.
“I love your eyes, and I will tell you every day until you remember nothing but my words.”
Carson’s mouth drops open. “You love my eyes?”
“Yes, they’re my favorite part of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think they really suit you.”
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” He stares at me for a second, then at the staircase.
“Could I use your bathroom for a minute?”
“Sure.”
He grins, dropping the bag on the floor and walking up the stairs. He comes back a minute later, his right eye now a beautiful chestnut brown. “Better?”
“Perfect.”
“How did it go at your parents?”
Carson thrums his fingers on the steering wheel, singing along with the radio. “Good, they were surprised and a little disappointed that I didn’t tell them before, but they were really supportive.”
“That’s good. Do you still want to stay at my place? Or are you staying at your parents’ house?
He lowers the window. The humid air blows in my face. “Well, uhm, I told my parents I was staying at your place, but if you’re not okay with that I can ask them if I—”
“Carson, calm down. Of course you’ll still be welcome. I was just wondering.” I pat his shoulder. “Who else will watch baseball with me?
“My whole family probably. They love baseball.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” I lick my lips, wetting them, then say, “You should probably know something before we’re on the beach.”
Carson stares at me, puzzled. He’s wearing his favorite baseball cap, backward like always.
“You can tell me anything.” He taps my hand lightly, turning left toward the beach.
“I uhm—I have some scars on my body, I want you to know before you see them so you don’t freak out.”
“Scars? The one on your throat? No offense, Sunshine, but I have already seen that.”
“Oh really? I didn’t notice,” I say with a hint of sarcasm. “No, I have more on my arms, stomach, chest. Like everywhere on my body.”
He stills his eyes, searching my body for any scar he might have missed. His hand whitens as he grips the steering wheel. “You have more scars?”
“Yeah, I already told you. I didn’t have an easy childhood. I got hurt plenty of times over the years, but I don’t want you to freak out when you see them.”
“How many?”
What?
“How many what?”
