when Logan pulls me away and down her driveway, ordering me to get Carter.
“Why me? Why don't you go get him?” I protest.
“Because I'm going to stay here and start helping out.”
Fat chance I’m going to let that happen.
“We'll both go,” I insist, crossing my arms over my chest to show him I mean business.
“Just do it, Quaid.”
“Nope. Not happening.” I shake my head from side to side, leaving him even more infuriated. “I’m not leaving here unless you come with me.”
He throws an awkward smile over his shoulder at the raven beauty a few feet behind us.
“We'll just be a minute,” he tells her, and I can’t contain my smug grin that he caved so easily. I wouldn’t have.
“Okay.” She shrugs, her brows pulled together in curiosity.
“We are so blowing this,” Logan says between gritted teeth.
“Come on, jackass. Let's go get Carter.” I chuckle, placing my hand on Logan’s shoulder so he can get a move on.
I tilt my head up to my other best friend’s bedroom window and see a shadow lurking behind his dark curtain. I’m positive Carter saw his brand new neighbor drive up to our street sooner than any of us did. Lucky bastard is going to be living right next door to her. Without a minute to lose, Logan and I run up to his porch, a blaring TV inside making the doorbell almost mute. I’m usually the impatient one in our little trio, but by the way Logan is furiously knocking on the Carter’s door, he’s sure is giving my antsy ways a run for their money.
“Just give her some time, asshole. Carter’s grandma is in a wheelchair, you know,” I reprimand, rolling my eyes at him for his less than tactful behavior.
“But Alex and Carter aren't,” he snaps, never wavering from his persistent knocking.
“Alex is undoubtedly sleeping last night off, and you know Carter is probably in his room with his headphones on.”
“Whatever,” he clips, continuing to pound at the door.
Two minutes later, a gray-haired plump woman on her trusty wheelchair finally opens the door, making Logan release an exaggerated relieved exhale.
When I was smaller, Carter's grandma Pearl used to look so tall to me in her wheelchair, but now both Logan and I loom over her in size, and she has to crane her neck all the way back to look at us. Especially me, since this was the summer of my growth spurt. Logan’s mom says I'm not done growing taller. That maybe one day, I'll even reach my dad’s six foot two height. Not that he’ll ever notice.
“Morning, boys.” Pearl smiles at us. “If you want to see Carter, he's up in his room,” Pearl says, already wheeling herself back to the living room. “Go right on up, but keep the noise down because I'm watching my stories,” she adds pointing to her soaps on the TV screen.
It’s funny that she’s telling us to be quiet when the volume of the TV is so loud, you can hear it from outside. Pearl’s severe diabetes not only impairs her mobility, but also her hearing. Still, for a woman who is close to seventy and with all her ailments, she always has a smile on her face. I like that about her.
Logan begins to run up the stairs, two at a time, not even letting me tease Carter’s grandma about her insidious affair with daytime TV. Who knew a pretty girl could get him so riled up? I run after him, and because I’m faster, we both reach Carter’s bedroom at the same time. Inside, the room is just as dark as he is. Black curtains, black duvet, black everything—all of him is black.
I don't get the appeal, but I guess I'd have to live in Carter's shoes to understand his fascination with such a morbid color. My life might not be filled with colorful rainbows, but at least I still see some light in it. I don’t think Carter does, though. Maybe at one time in his life he did, but definitely not now. Not since his mom and dad died six years ago, and he and his brother were forced to move in with Pearl, the only living family member they still had.
It sucks balls.
But I guess that’s life for you. You’re never too young to be handed a crappy deal. Carter’s folks are long gone, while mine are healthy and breathing, and yet they are just as present in my life as Carter’s is in his.
My parents are