Too Late Page 26

Asa is sitting at the side of the pool with his feet dangling in the water. He isn't staring at the girls. He's staring straight at me—eyes hard and suspicious. I nod in his direction, acting oblivious to the look in his eye.

Dalton sees me and says, "Carter!" He rushes around the pool, unsteady on his feet. He's laughing the whole time, spilling half his beer. When he reaches me, he wraps his arm around me and leans in.

"Don't worry, I'm not as fucked up as I look," he says. "Did you get anything out of Sloan?"

I pull back and eye him. "How did you know I was with Sloan?"

He chuckles. "I didn't. But good job," he says, squeezing my shoulder. "You work fast. I think she knows more than we think she does."

I shake my head. "I don't think she knows shit," I tell him. "Focusing on her will be a waste of our time."

I glance over Dalton's shoulder and Asa is staring at us. He pulls his feet out of the water and stands up.

"He's coming over here," I say.

Dalton raises an eyebrow and then backs away, raising his beer in the air. He grins and spins around, "A hundred bucks says I can stay under water longer than any of you fucks!"

Jon immediately takes him up on the bet. They throw their beers aside and dive into the pool.

Asa walks toward me and then straight past me as he makes his way into the house, never once making eye contact with me.

I don't know what unnerves me more. The fact that I'm suspicious of every move he makes or the fact that he seems suspicious of me.

SLOAN-17

Chapter Seventeen

Sloan

It took me half an hour after Carter walked away to finally regain my composure enough to pack my things and walk back home. It's been ten minutes since I reached the edge of my dark driveway. I've been staring at the pavement, following the winding path with my eyes. It would be so easy to keep walking. There's nothing in that house I want. Nothing I even need. I could keep walking along the pavement until I'm too far to turn back.

I wish it were as easy as it sounds, but once again...it's not just about me. And no one but me is going to be able to change any of this.

Carter can't save me. Asa sure as hell isn't going to save me. I just need to continue saving my money until I have enough to make it on my own and bring my brother with me.

I take a step onto the grass, toward the house, but I hesitate. It's the last place I want to be right now. I want to be back at the park, back on the bench, back in Carter's arms. I want that feeling again, but I'm ashamed to admit I want more than that, too. I want to know what it feels like to be kissed by someone who respects me.

Just having that thought makes me feel incredibly guilty. To my knowledge, Asa is faithful to me. He provides for me. He takes care of my brother financially...a responsibility that isn't even his. He does this because he loves me and he knows I want to see my brother happy. I can't discredit that. It's more than anyone has ever done for me in my entire life.

I throw my backpack of completed homework in Asa's car and walk through the front door. I just keep walking until I get to the kitchen. I'll do like I do every night and take something to eat and drink up to my room. I'll stay there alone and try to sleep amidst the sound of music and laughter and sometimes the occasional muffled screams. I'll fall asleep and hope that Asa gives me at least four good hours before he wakes me up again.

I set the timer on the microwave and fill my cup with ice. I shut the freezer and go to open the refrigerator door when the familiar handwriting on the dry erase board catches my eye. My breath hitches when I read it.

Worries flow from her lips like the random words that flow from her fingertips. I reach out and try to catch them, clenching them in my fists, wanting nothing more than to catch them all.

I look at his words, written clearly out in the open for anyone to see, but I know they're meant only for me. It's obvious he played the game wrong. He actually thought about what he was going to say before he wrote it this time. Cheater.

I erase the words, but not before imprinting them on my mind. I pick up the marker and press it to the dry erase board.

ASA- 18

Chapter Eighteen

Asa

My hands are wet from sweat. The air conditioner is broken again and it's too hot to go outside. I run my sweaty palm along the leather arm of the couch, leaving a streak of sweat behind the path of my hand.

I wonder where sweat comes from?

I wonder where leather comes from?

My mother told me it's made from cows, but I know she's a liar, so I don't believe her. How could leather be made out of cows? I've touched a cow before and they're sort of fuzzy. They don't look like leather to me. Leather looks more like it's made from dinosaurs than cows.