Who Can Really Blame You?

“Last day of school!” Talia exclaims, dancing down the hall. I stare at her, and smile at Carter, who’s walking next to me.

“She’s odd,” he says. I bust out laughing.

“‘Odd’?” I ask, “That’s the word you choose?”

He smiles goofily and nods.

“She is odd,” he points out.

“On a scale of weird, odd is a one and psycho is a ten. Talia is at least a sturdy seven.” I scoff. Carter glances at me, and we continue down the hall.

“I think she’s just hyper,” he says oddly. I look at him.

“You like her,” I tease, even though I feel bad just noticing. He looks at me quickly.

“No I don’t,” he says flatly.

“Then why’d you defend her?” I ask, bumping into him and making him stumble a bit. I smile as he glares at me.

“She’s my friend,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” I say, “But I called her a seven on a scale of weird.”

“Well,” Carter says thoughtfully, “You’re just mean.”

I stop, and glare at him for real.

“I’m not mean,” I say seriously, “I just have a sick sense of humor, which isn’t mean.”

“If you say so,” he replies as we turn onto the hall our classes are on.

“I do,” I reply, making him smile slightly. I look down at my feet when someone calls my name. Carter looks at me, and I turn to see Max. Sad Max. “I’ll see you later,” I say to Carter, who shrugs but doesn’t head off immediately. I ignore his motionlessness and walk over to Max.

“Hey,” he says, awkwardly, “I’m so sorry about last night.”

“Me too,” I mutter. Max sighs. “I… I think that you need to find someone else to like, Max,” I tell him, “I don’t see myself liking you like that in the near future. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh,” he says, shuffling his feet, something he does when he’s either hurt or annoyed, “I’m still sorry though.”

“It’s fine,” I say, “I’m not mad at you. I didn’t think I was… sending signals or whatever. Sorry if I was.”

“You weren’t,” he assures me, “At least not to me.”

I stare at him. He smirks.

“What?” I ask. He shrugs.

“You lied last night,” he says, “About Carter.”

“What are you talking about?” I huff, crossing my arms. I know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You do like Carter,” he says. I glare at him.

“Carter’s straight,” I reply, “I don’t like straight guys.”

Max actually laughs, so I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm.

“I’m just saying,” Max mutters, his mouth next to my ear, making me shiver (in a bad way), “Maybe you should follow your own advice. He won’t like you anytime soon.”

I shove him off me.

“I thought you changed,” I spit at him, “But you’re still a fucking dick, who only ever tries to hurt me.”

“I’m doing this for you,” he calls to me, “You’ll have your heart broken!”

“How would you know?!” I say, turning about ten feet from him to glare at him, “You never feel anything but bad for yourself! Oh poor me, my parents hate me because I’m a fag. Oh poor me, some guy I have a pitiful crush on doesn’t like me! Oh poor you, Max. Your heart has never been broken and you don’t care if mine is as long as no one has me when you don’t!”

Max stares at me, then smiles.

“Happy now?!” I exclaim, “You got a rise out of me. Congratulations. Have fun finding new friends.”

I turn to leave, and see Carter standing a few feet away from me, looking worried. I storm past him, apologizing, and find myself in another boys’ bathroom, late for class.

I rub my eyes when the door opens, and look down into the sink so no one will see me crying. The boy that walked in leaves quickly and I decide to hide in the stall for safety reasons.

I shut the toilet seat, and sit down.

The door opens again, and I wipe at my eyes even though they can’t see me. I pull my legs up onto the seat and hold them to my chest.

“Ains?” someone calls, “It’s me. Carter.”

I don’t reply; just feel my eyes fill again. Max is right. He’s always right. I’m an idiot for liking Carter. Maybe if we didn’t hang out so much we could be normal friends without me being such a fucking creep.

“I know you’re in here,” he says, opening the stall doors. He stops at mine when it’s locked, and peeks his head over the top. “Good thing you weren’t some guy taking a dump,” he jokes to cover his worry. I cover up my face and lean it into my knees. I hear the lock click, and the door swing open. I peek up over my knees after a few seconds of silence, to see Carter kneeling in front of me. I put my face back down, sighing.

“Go away Carter,” I tell him.

“You’ve never told me to do that before,” he observes.

“I should have. I should have that first day I talked to you,” I mutter. He hears me, amazingly.

“What?” he asks and I feel bad instantly at the hurt in his voice.

“If… If I tell you something, you can’t hate me instantly, okay?” I ask, “You have to promise me.”

He hesitates, then says slowly, “I promise.”

I look at him, and search his face for how he’s feeling, which is worried. That’s what I do to everyone. I just make everyone worry.

“You didn’t kill anyone, right?” he jokes when I don’t say anything for a moment.

“No,” I reply, and fall silent again.

He waits patiently, though I know his knees must be killing him.

“Okay,” I start shakily, my heart pounding, “Alright.”

“Just tell me,” he says. I stare the side of the stall and start off.

“I’ve had a huge crush on you since I first saw you,” I tell him. He leans back to sit on his heels. “And I just need you to stay away from me so I can get over it,” I say, my eyes filling up again, “I’m sorry Carter. I c-can’t help it.”

Carter doesn’t say anything, and I wish suddenly that he wasn’t blocking my exit so I could run.

“I’m s-so s-sorry,” I say, tears rolling down my face, “Move.”

He doesn’t; I push him out of the way and climb off the toilet and make my escape. He grabs my wrist before I can get out of the stall.

“L-let go,” I choke out, pulling my arm away from him. He doesn’t let go. He stands and I suddenly get the feeling he’s going to hit me. I flinch and step away from him. He doesn’t let go of my wrist.

“Ainsley,” he says seriously. I don’t look at him, just keep staring at my feet, tears dripping off my nose, and falling to their doom on the dirty tiled floors. “Look at me,” he says. I don’t.

“P-please,” I whimper, as he pulls me to him, “Just l-let me go.”

“Why would I do that?” he asks, trying to wrap his arms around me. I yank my arm back hard, and stumble back a few feet. He looks shocked, and I glare at him.

“Because I asked you to,” I say, wiping my tears away furiously, “Because I don’t want to keep being a disgusting fag over you.”

“You’re not disgusting,” he tells me, “You’re—”

I cut him off.

“If you ever do anything for me, please just do this. Just stay away from me,” I beg, turning for the door. He takes my wrist again, and turns me around quickly, pressing his lips into mine. My eyes close as my knees go weak and I find myself kissing back as he presses my back into the wall. Carter’s tongue runs over my bottom lip, and I come to my senses. This is Carter, who’s straight and not into me. I shove him off me.

He looks embarrassed, and the flying feeling I just experienced turns into a crashing feeling instantly.

“That’s not staying away from me!” I exclaim, my stomach tearing painfully inside of me, “Don’t kiss me just to make me feel better!”

He stares at me, and I turn again to leave.

He doesn’t stop me this time.

By the time I get home, the last bell for the last day of school has rung. I step onto my lawn, and look at my dad’s car, still in the driveway. I turn back around, going to find somewhere else to hang around until my dad leaves to get drunk.

I decide to go wait in the park for an hour until the time my dad goes off to drink everyday.

I’ve made it two of the six blocks to the park when my phone goes off in my pocket.

“Hello?” I mumble when I see Talia’s ID on the front screen.

“Where are you?!” she exclaims, obviously angry.

“Walking to the park,” I tell her.

“Why aren’t you in school? Where’s Carter?” she asks.

“I left, and I don’t know,” I reply, feeling my heart sink at the mention of Carter.

“You’re lucky Tayler found him! Why’d you leave?” she asks.

“I have to go,” I tell her, “I’ll see you lat—”

“No you won’t,” she says, “Not if you hang up without telling me why you’re gone and Carter’s a mess. What did you do?”

I hang up, and turn off my phone.