ℂ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝔾𝕝𝕠𝕨 ➃

36. The Irony - ✭ Monica ✭

I slowly blink my eyes open, feeling like the dead being brought back to life as I do. My head is pounding and my face feels like it has mud caked on it.

Please tell me I do not still have all of that paint on my face. I will have a raging facial breakout if I do. Having acne for the foreseeable future doesn't even compare to the hammering going on inside of my skull.

A soft familiar snoring has me blinking even more rapidly, trying to forget the pain and register the sound. I turn over to see that there's, thankfully, no one in the bed with me. I look over to Marcella's bed and it's empty as well.

Where in the world is that snoring sound coming from?

Another soft snore has me rolling over to see Carter sleeping on the floor next to my bed.

Why is Carter sleeping on the floor in my room?

I wrack my brain to think back to last nights events. I remember coming back to school and not being able to get out of the car. Carter had picked me up and I had passed out in his arms.

I look around for my phone, patting the bed until my hand lands on it. I sit up automatically seeing I've got missed calls and texts from Jamie and Boston. When I open up my phone it goes directly to Boston and my text messages. I scroll up to where the first message is and smack my forehead.

Oh god, Boston is going to be so pissed at that picture.

I glare at Carter before going back to the text messages. There's several from Boston this morning saying how we need to talk. That before I talk to my brother I need to hear him out. That he's so sorry shit went down the way it did. He didn't even mention the picture of Carter and I. None of it made sense.

With shaky fingers I click over to my brother's text messages. There are three pictures. Pictures that make tears automatically prick my eyes.

Boston's got Louisa on his lap, kissing her. His hands are on her waist. Her hands are in his suit jacket. The image and my brother's words, stay the fuck away from him, make me chuck my phone away from me.

The image can't be right. Boston would never cheat on me. He promised me he would never cheat on me. He promised. I clutch my necklace as I feel the tears start to trickle down my cheeks.

"You okay?" I don't answer Carter because I can't. The last person that should be here right now is him. But he's familiar. He's the only familiar person besides Marcella here. I clutch my necklace even harder as I choke on a sob. "Hey hey, shhh." Carter gets up from the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. He opens his arms and I welcome the hug. I welcome the comfort. I need it. "You'll be alright. You just had a little too much to drink. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed." I managed to finally choke out. "It's just, uhm, nothing. I shouldn't talk about it with you." I back out of his arms, distancing myself from him which makes him frown. "Why'd you send Boston that picture last night?"

He looks away from me but answers honestly, "I was angry and jealous. I was jealous that you chose him over me and angry that I'm the one here for you and he isn't. I miss you and after I saw the picture you posted last night I wanted to see you. It's why I was in the parking lot. I was about to leave when I saw Marcella struggling with someone, that someone being you. I'm just glad I was there. Glad I was sober. Happy I'm here right now because you clearly need someone."

"I'm fine." Before I can stop him he snatches my phone. "Carter, come on, don't. Just don't." He opens it anyway and his features turn angry.

"If you're not going to put up with my bullshit then you sure as shit shouldn't put up with this, Monica. You barely know the guy." He shakes his head in frustration. "You deserve better." How ironic that he's the one to say that about Boston when Boston had originally been the one to say that about him.