The Federation

Giggling like mad, I sprinted around the parking lot of the concert hall, my arms spread out at my sides and airplane noises issuing from my mouth. I screeched to a halt in front of Carter, hopping once to completely stop myself. One knee collapsed beneath me, and I fell against Carter’s chest. I slung my arms around his neck, my drunken mind barely acknowledging fear of falling down. Even drunk off my ass, I knew Carter would protect me. Carter coiled his arms tightly around me, easily lifting me up onto my feet again. Sometimes, it made me mad that Carter could pick me up so easily, but at the moment, I was drunker than a pirate locked in a rum storehouse and I didn’t much care about anything.

Carter wasn’t nearly as drunk as me, but he was still pretty drunk. I mean, I’d only had two beers...or was it three? Oh, I can’t bother myself enough to concentrate on remembering. But I’d had very few beers, and my low tolerance of those fermented vegetables took care of the rest. Now, I was clinging to Carter in order to keep myself upright.

Even the thought of Jimmy paved no road for anger or distress inside my brain. Time hadn’t lessened the tension between Jimmy and I. Over the past couple of months, we’d mainly stuck to avoiding and ignoring each other much like before. We spoke nothing of our earlier conversation about Carter to each other or to anyone else. Carter never mentioned it, either. I trusted him; that was all he needed.

Simultaneously during the past two months, Carter and I had grown closer and closer to each other each passing day. Now, we were practically joined at the hip. Every morning after we woke up, we played rock paper scissors to see whose bus we’d hang out on that day. It happened to be me that won the contest earlier that day, so Carter and I stumbled drunkenly towards my bus, preparing to pass out and not looking too forward to the hangover in the morning. Well, at least, he probably wasn’t. At the moment, all I could think about was how beautiful Carter looked with the moonlight shining in his hair. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed how undeniably cute Carter was—he had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, including Jimmy’s. His blond hair fell everywhere, but in that sexy, tousled, fresh out of bed way that every woman goes crazy for. Well, by every woman, I mean me. I think my being drunk had something to do with my sudden infatuation.

But, even when I’m perfectly sober, I can’t help but have just an itsy bitsy crush on Mr. Bartlett. Okay, maybe just a little bit more than itsy bitsy—okay, a lot more than itsy bitsy. But the man is so damn understanding and sympathetic. He listens to my woes even when I don’t feel like listening to my woes, and he honestly asks nothing from me except my company, which he seems to enjoy quite stupendously. He’s always there for me, some days a shoulder to cry on, other days a human soul to rant to, some other days just someone with ears and a brain. He supports me and tells me I’m beautiful. And he always sides with me when it comes to Jimmy. I can’t find anything else I could ask for from a man.

“There’s a step there,” I giggled as I slammed my shin into the edge of the first step onto my bus. My shin throbbed, but I barely noticed as Carter sighed from behind me and rested his hands on my waist, easily lifting me up onto the first step. He kept one cautious hand on my waist as I climbed up the other two steps, and then followed quickly behind me.

“You are so wasted,” Carter informed me. I fell back on the couch, sprawling out across the entire thing. I grinned and wiggled my finger at him, an obvious sign for him to come hither. He obeyed, and I stretched upward, reaching for what he thought was his face. Instead, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him down on top of me.

Carter instantly threw both of his arms out so he wouldn’t crush me. He braced one hand against the back of the couch and the other on the cushion right beside my head so that his arm brushed gently against my cheek. Our faces were inches from each other, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I was probably drowning the poor guy with the alcohol on my breath. I could smell other scents on him, too—cologne and peppermint toothpaste, if my drunken senses could be trusted.

“Uh...Asher?” Carter asked uncertainly, obviously caught off guard by my sudden insistence that he be as close as possible without our bodies being welded together.

So, I pressed my lips hungrily against his.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best solution to this situation, but it was definitely the nicest. I hadn’t kissed a guy in who knew how long, and Carter had such soft lips that moved so gently against mine.

Too soon, we pulled away. Carter’s eyes met mine from only inches away. I pursed my lips and kissed his bottom lip as we stared at each other. Neither one of us seemed to know what exactly to do.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” Carter breathed, “I think it’ll have more meaning if we’re sober.”

A sudden fear struck me, odd in this drunken state of my mind. “What if we regret what we’ve done in the morning?”

Carter smiled and pressed the gentlest of kisses to my lips. I wanted to stretch my neck to keep our lips connected when he pulled away, but my head felt suddenly very heavy and I knew I couldn’t lift it from the couch cushion.

“We won’t regret it,” Carter assured me. “When I’m sober, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking right now.”

“Okay,” I whispered, releasing the collar of his shirt and scooting over so he could stretch out beside me on the couch. He did, and I rested my head on his chest as he wound his arms around my waist. Soon, my eyes drooped closed and I drifted into darkness.