Sincerely, Carter (25 page)

Someone did…I didn’t pay for this.

You did. Your seat was always 2A.

Ha! I knew it. Thank you very much…

No problem. I figured ten-plus hours in economy class would’ve brought out the worst in you and your anxiety. Be safe.

Okay.

Okay.

I drove off and when I stopped at a red-light, I saw that she’d sent me another text.

Okay so…Just to be clear because well…I don’t know. Sometimes you push people away when you don’t want to show emotions…When we were having sex…You felt nothing? It was just sex?

You putting it that way makes me sound like an asshole, Ari…

I didn’t say you were an asshole. Just tell me.

Yes. It was just sex.

Okay. Talk to you later.

Talk to you later.

Track 21. Should’ve Said No (2:44)

I couldn’t stop crying.

My heart felt heavy, and no matter how many times I wiped away my tears, more of them fell down my face. A part of me wished that I was sitting in coach and not first class so it would be easier to hide my pain, so flight attendants wouldn’t be so accessible and could stop offering me endless drinks and looks of sympathy.

I started to wonder if the heartbreak was written all over my face, if the other passengers in my cabin could see it.

Carter’s words, “I’m sorry…I love you, but not in that way,” wouldn’t stop replaying themselves in my head, and I couldn’t stop staring at his last text:

Yes. It was just sex.

I was hoping that the words were playing a cruel joke on me, because I still couldn’t believe he felt differently than I did…

I’d thought the way he looked at me when we made love meant something, that the way he treated me (better than anyone he’d ever dated) was indicative of something more. Something much more between us.

“Here you go…” A flight attendant set another packet of Kleenex in my lap. “Would you like another cup of juice?”

“No…” I sniffled. “I’m…” I paused. I would probably never see her or any of the people on this plane again in my life. “Can I have two glasses of your hardest liquor? Actually, can you make that four?”

She looked as if she was going to recite some company line, but she smiled instead. “Be right back.”

Turning to face the window, I stared at the wing of the plane as it cruised through clouds. I hoped that four glasses of alcohol would be enough for me to sleep through the remaining hours of this flight without dreaming.

Then again, if I did, I hoped that the images would show me going back in time and not talking to Carter as much. Maybe if we’d never had the opportunity to cross the line, this never would have happened.

I scrolled through my memories with him, pinpointing one that would’ve definitely prevented my heartbreak. It wasn’t erasing any of our nightly phone calls or the emails, or hanging around him when we were in high school; it was making the decision to go to a college near his.

I should’ve never done that…

Freshman Year

Subject: Star Status

Dare I ask how many women you’ve attempted to sleep with since you’ve started the semester? If I see another commenter on Facebook talk about how “sexy” you are on your profile picture, I will scream. (Why are you using that picture of us anyway? And what the hell is up with that CAPTION???!!)

Arizona

Subject: Re: Star Status

The word “attempt” implies that I actually have to try to sleep with someone here. I don’t. You’re only upset because none of the commenters are leaving compliments about you. (I like that picture of us in eleventh grade. No one will ever know what “Beat her to it…Best twenty dollars I ever won” means…)

Sincerely,

Carter

I put my phone away and focused on the girl who was sitting at my table.

Earlier today, she’d claimed to have no idea who I was, but the first question out of her mouth was, “Do you think you’ll go pro after college?”

Hell no…
“Anything is possible,” I’d responded. “I’m only focusing on the present.”

Now, our main conversation points were all used up, and I was just waiting for her to get to the inevitable ending for our night.

“So…” she said. “When you’re not hanging out with your basketball friends, who do you hang out with?”

“Myself, really,” I said. “I don’t really have time for much else.”

She frowned and stood up, moving so she could sit right next to me. “That’s so sad…You don’t have any real friends? People outside of your teammates?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure I’ll make some eventually.”

“Why not start with
me
?” She bit her lip and rubbed my thigh under the table. “As a matter of fact, I think you and me can be
best friends
.”

“Becoming best friends takes a lot of time.” My cock hardened as she caressed it through my pants. “I’m not sure I’ll have much of that when the season starts.”

“You have to sleep somewhere at night, right?” She bit her lip again. “I’ll be there for you whenever you need me…Want me to show you how good it could be, future best friend?”

“I would.” I smiled. “Tell me when.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight works.”

“Okay.” Satisfied with my answer, she smiled wider and got up. “I’m going to tell my friends I’m leaving. You think you’ll be ready to go by the time I get back?”

“Most definitely.”

She blushed and walked away, and I signaled to the waitress for the check. Then I pulled out my phone, noticing another email from Arizona.

Subject: Scheduling Time.

Now that you’re going to be a huge basketball star, I guess I’ll have to start making appointments to come see you. How far out into the year are you booked with groupies? Or do I need to go through your “people” for things like this?

Rolling my eyes,

Arizona

Subject: Re: Scheduling Time.

You wouldn’t have to make appointments to see me at all if you’d chosen to go to a closer school. You hate snow and rain, so you should’ve never agreed to go the University of Pittsburgh.

Sincerely,

Carter

Subject: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.

I know…Which is why I just transferred. Well, THAT and other stupid things…Ugh. I know it’s sad that I only lasted a month, but I couldn’t stand the dreariness, and that professor I was adamant about learning from? Apparently he got this huge book deal before the semester started and is stepping down from teaching for two years so he can finish it.

Please don’t tell me ‘I told you so’…

Regretting things,

Arizona

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.

I fucking told you so.

Sincerely,

Carter

PS—What school are you transferring to?

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.

Reeves University. Seven minutes away from your precious South Beach University.

I’m actually here right now unpacking. God, I missed the beach!

Will call you when I get more done.

Arizona

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Scheduling Time.

No need. I’ll come help you. Send me your address.

Sincerely,

Carter

I wrote a “something came up” on a napkin for my “future best friend,” and headed straight to the address Ari texted me. It was exactly seven minutes like she said, and just like my dorm, it was steps away from the beach. Unlike my dorm though, where everyone had a roommate, it seemed as if all the suites in Ari’s dorm were singles.

I didn’t bother knocking on her already open door. “Ari?”

“I’m back here!” She yelled.

I stepped past the closet and saw her folding clothes on the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here? I would’ve helped you move your stuff.” I asked.

“Because the week I made my decision, you were on ESPN’s college channel with your team-mates talking about how explosive a season this was going to be, how many intensive practices you were looking forward to. I figured you’d be busy. No practice today?”

“No.” I looked around her room. “I just had a date.”

“How’d it go?”

“If I’m here talking to you, how do you think it went?”

She threw a pillow at my face. “Nice seeing you again, too! You want to make yourself useful and actually help me unpack? Could you unload all my books?”

“Sure.” I opened the labeled box and started sorting them. “Within the entire month that you wasted in Pittsburgh, did you do anything worth talking about?”

For the next few hours, we caught up on all the little details that’d slipped through emails and text messages, all the insignificant things that were now seemingly important. And by the end of the night, we’d almost unpacked most of her things.

“Are there any good places to eat on campus?” she asked, yawning. “If not, would you mind driving back to our neighborhood so we can eat at Sam’s?”

“There’s actually this place called Gayle’s I think you’ll like.”

“
Gayle’s
? It sounds like an old fashioned diner...”

“It is, but the food is perfect. They serve just as many flavors of yogurt as they do of ice cream, and their waffles are ten times better than Sam’s.”

“I refuse to believe that…Do they have a candy bar?”

“They do.”

“What about breakfast at all hours of the day?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, fine.” She smiled. “I’m sold, but if I don’t like it, you have to pay.”

“I was going to pay anyway…” I pulled out my car keys. “Let’s go.”

Minutes later, we were seated in a booth at Gayle’s—arguing over stupid things like old times and looking over the extensive dessert menu.

“So, is this why you’ve been turning down every girl that approaches you in here, Carter?” The only waitress I’d ever seen in this place stepped in front of us. “Is this your girlfriend?”

“Ha!
Never
.” Ari laughed. “I’m Arizona. His best friend.”

“Since fifth grade,” I said.

“Fourth grade, Carter.” Ari countered. “It was
fourth grade
.”

“No, I couldn’t stand you in fourth grade.”

“Well, I personally can’t stand you sometimes now, but it still counts as us being friends doesn’t it?”

“Best friends, huh?” The waitress rolled her eyes. “Okay…I’ll buy that for now…What do you want to order?”