We Can't Forget Last Summer

It was early December; the sharp, crisp air clung onto every area of exposed skin upon stepping outside into the dark night. Gazing up at the navy sky, one could spot out the numerous, luminescent stars painting an image only some could decipher. It was unfortunate; those who had no gift or knowledge of the stars clearly missed out on some different world.

It made me sad. I wanted to look to the sky for some sort of answer or at least some question to make me ponder my thoughts. Had I made the correct decisions in my life? Clearly not; but some part of me yearned for an ounce of positivity or optimism.

Life was a box of bran cereal now. Same thing every day- nothing special; nothing new. I didn't even have hope for the best anymore. The only thing, or person really, who brightened my day was Rod, and due to his job he was missing in action most of the time.

The Maine and I had lost contact. I suppose a majority of the reason is because of what happened with John about a month ago. He was most likely extremely dissatisfied with our little chat, found out that the guys were in contact with me, and somehow scared them enough the stop answering my calls.

Either that or I was a paranoid lunatic.

I sat down at the dining room table and smoothed my hands over my tight dress. The things my mother made me wear were starting to get annoying. Well, they had always been annoying, but at this point I was ready to draw the line. It was like she wanted me to play up the slut act. I mean, at work and at occasions that didn't involve young, promising bachelors I didn't have to wear the tight fitted, bust-showing dressing, but anywhere else- ugh.

I sat up straight and placed my hands in my lap as the rest of our guests sat down at the table. I stared at Rod across from me, stifling a grin and raising an eyebrow at my new haircut.

I hated it. I hated it so much that I almost wanted to be a bitch and cry about it. My mother made me chop off my luscious, long locks- leaving me with this shoulder length, no-body bob of a hair cut. Not to mention it made me look five pounds heavier.

Marcus, who somehow claimed the title of my boyfriend over the past week, sat down next to me. He unlocked my hands and took hold as one.

"How do you suppose I eat?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him.

He rolled his eyes and dropped my hand disgustedly. I sucked in a sharp breath and looked back at Rod, who found this whole event amusing.

My father sat at the head of the table, my mother next to me and Marcus to my other side. Then, Rod's mother, Rod, and then his father. I tried my best to act dumb, almost to make myself feel better in a way, but I knew what all this was.

"Your hair looks lovely, Carson." Mrs. Asbern glanced over at me.

Before I had the chance to respond, my mother cut in. "Oh! She just got it cut. Beautiful, isn't it?"

It was like I was being sold. For fucks sake, we were in the twenty first century. You'd think people didn't do this shit anymore. But no. Of course not. Carter escaped while he could- lucky bastard. He knew this would happen to him if he stuck around long enough.

The adults charged into conversation about politics and government as I sat there, dumbfounded and exhausted with this lifestyle. Marcus engaged in the conversation as well, mainly falling flat against the extended vocabulary my father expressed. Rod smirked and held back a chuckle as Marcus continued to get embarrassed and denied over and over again, but unlike usual, I didn't find this the least bit entertaining.

I had seen it all once before and I was so done. I wanted to get away.

I pushed away from the table, sucking in a breath as I said, "Excuse me."

No one aside from Rod really noticed. His concerned and glassy eyes flicked up at me, causing my stomach to flip. It really was nice to know someone gave a damn about me. To be honest, at this point in time Rod and I were the only two who had each other.

I walked to my room slowly, my feet aching terribly from the heels I was wearing. Once I was in my room, I grabbed my cell phone off my night stand and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?" She answered on the first ring and I had never been so relieved in my entire life.

"Sara?" My voice cracked.

"Carson? Is that you dear?"

I nodded my head, although she couldn't see me. My eyes stung. "Yeah. It's me."

"Oh honey! How are you?!"

I didn't answer he question. "I'm so sorry for not calling."

"Don't be silly. I know you're busy up there."

I couldn't bring myself to respond. Instead, slow tears fell from my eyes. I hated being such a emotional wreck, but god, I didn't know what to do with myself.

"Are you there? Honey, are you okay?"

I sniffled. "I'm so unhappy." I choked.

"Oh Carson... Honey, I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what to do with myself." I sobbed lightly.

I had caught her off guard. She didn't know how to respond and I didn't blame her. Instead, she just listened to me complain about my life and all the shit I had to put up with here. I told her about the stupid dates I had been forced to go to, the countless events, the grueling work hours, the fact that I had one friend, and of course, the plain verbal abuse from my parents.

"Come back."

I nearly froze at her words.

"You went up there for an experiment. It didn't work out. So what? Come back down here, you can stay here until you get a good job and get an apartment. Everything will be okay again. You belong here, dear. You always have."

"I can't run away again." I muttered.

"You're not running away; you're coming home."

I sniffled and wiped away my remaining tears, sucking in a shaky breath.

"Think about it, okay? Don't make any rash decisions when you're distraught. You're always welcomed here."

"I'll think about it."

I stayed on the phone for about another five minutes before deciding I should probably be getting back to dinner. Sara and I said farewell and I re-applied my makeup before heading back downstairs.

I took a seat at the table and once again, no one seemed to even notice I was gone. Rod offered me a sympathetic look which in return, I nodded my head at.

At about that time, our doorbell went off.

"Carson, will you get that?" My mother asked, not really parting ways with the conversation.

Happily, I stood up and excused myself once again. My heels clicked on the tile floor as I entered the foyer, echoing throughout the large, spacious house. I opened the door steadily, wondering who exactly would show up at our house at nine o'clock at night.

He stood there, drenched in rain and wincing lightly. My eyes lit up insistently as I made out who it was. He ran a hand through his wet hair and his shoulders slumped over.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, sharply.

"Good to know I got the right house." He smirked.

I didn't laugh; instead I stood there dumbfounded by his mere presence. He seemed to understand this by his smile fading and letting out a breath. "Do you have a blanket?" He asked.

"A blanket?"

"I'm in the rain. I'm fucking cold."

"Why are you soaking wet?"

"It's raining."

"What are you doing here?"

"Jesus Christ Carson! I'm cold." He exclaimed.

I raised my shoulders. "Well, you can't come in!"

"Why not?"

"I have company."

He rolled his eyes and strutted into my house. "I'm technically company. So therefore, you have to let me in."

"What is your problem?"

"What is yours!? You're the one who is not being a proper host."

I groaned loudly and then looked back towards the dining room. Luckily, from there you can't see the foyer. "Stay here." I hissed and peeked into the room to make sure the conversation was still moving. To my luck, it was.

Rod saw this though, raising an eyebrow and then excusing himself from the table. No one noticed.

I walked back into the foyer, not giving a shit if Rod saw John. I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated.

"Okay, you're going to have to go to my room."

John wiggled his eyebrows. "Scandalous."

"Shut the fuck up." I muttered, Rod now standing at my side.

John's eyebrows now furrowed. "Who's this?" He asked.

"This is Rod. Rod, this is John."

"An, nice to meet the infamous John." Rod chuckled and held out a hand.

John stared at it distastefully for a moment. "Hi."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh stop acting like someone showed a wooden stake up your ass, John. He's just my friend."

John shrugged. "Fair enough. Nice to meet you."

"Be quiet!" I hissed. "They'll hear you."

"Yeah, to be honest I really wouldn't like to be reacquainted with your parents. Not my favorite moment."

"They're hard asses, aren't they?" Rod smirked.

John's eyes lit up. "I like you!"

I rolled my eyes and grabbed John's wrist. I then turned to Rod, "Make sure they don't notice I'm gone. If they ask who was at the door just tell them it was someone at the wrong house."

"Got it." Rod turned around and shuffled back into the dining room.

John's eyes flickered to where my hand was located. "Remember when you yelled at me for holding your wrist?"

"It was more than just holding- you were gripping it, practically stopping my blood flow."

"Stop being so melodramatic."

I turned around, raising my eyes at him. "I can throw your ass out of this house right now."

He scoffed. "You and I both know you wouldn't do that."

My shoulders fell and I shook my head. "What are you doing here?"

He pursed his lips, holding in a grin. "Maybe if you get me a towel, I'll tell you."

"When did you get so annoying?" I muttered, guiding him over to the stairs.

"I always was." He laughed, "You just forgot about it when we started dating."