Cause for Concern ✓

fifteen

FRIDAY. 08. OCTOBER. (unedited)

"NO, dude, he's, like, totally into you."

"You think?"

They were sitting in Carter's room. When school had ended, Max couldn't bring himself to go home. Something about the house being empty was putting him off lately but he couldn't put a finger on what it was. It always just felt better to have someone around, someone to distract you or someone to talk with or someone who could just fill the silence.

Fortunately for him, Danny had picked up this and asked if he wanted to run errands with he, Tommy and Carter after class. Carter had backed out at this last minute, saying he was gonna head home and just wait for Tommy and Danny to show up so that they could hang out, and had brought Max along with him.

Where was Cole? He wasn't exactly sure but he was pretty sure he'd had to go home to see someone or get something before he picked Max up tonight. No big deal. He had Carter to hangout with in the mean time— and Carter's house was one of the nicest he'd ever been in.

"Yes! He has hearts in his eyes every time he looks at you," Carter huffed, repeatedly tossing a ball in the air and catching it again. "Where's this hesitation coming from?"

There was a double bed in the middle of the room, low to the ground and stacked with pillows upon pillows. Carter had one of those comfortable rooms, laidback and casually expensive in a way that made you feel oddly safe and accepted.

"I feel like a girl talking about this," Max said, slumped in the black desk chair that was faced away from the desk and towards the bed where Carter was lying, still tossing and catching the ball.

"You sound like a girl talking about this," Carter agreed, "but so what, right? Clearly it's playing on your mind."

"So?" Max asked, cocking a brow, his arms resting loosely on the arms of the chair.

"So let's get girly about it," Carter grinned, catching the ball one last time and shuffling himself upwards. Organising pillows comfortably behind him, he sat up against them and turned his body towards Max.

"If that's supposed to help then—"

"C'mon, now you're getting really in your head," he interrupted, amused. "I thought you were into Cole."

"I am into him!" Max cried, his face dusted with a light pink blush.

"Then what's the issue?" Carter asked. "He's into you, you're into him. He asked you out, you said yes. End of story."

Max said nothing, his eyes finding a fixation on the carpeted floor.

"You know, if this is about Tyler—"

"Carter—" He began, eyes finding Carter once more.

"Goddamn, I knew it! I knew this was about Tyler!" He declared, sitting up taller on the bed.

"It's not like—"

"Max! Who cares? Who gives a shit? Who. Gives. A. Shit. About Tyler? I don't, you shouldn't, nobody should. He sucks. Forget him," Carter scoffed, hands swift and loud, always painting a picture that was never finished.

Whenever he spoke, he reminded Max of a glass overflowing with water; never slowing down, never stopping, just pouring out and spilling over.

Max smiled to himself, rocking slightly from side to side in the black desk chair. "You happen to have any Italian in you, Carter?" He asked curiously, probably only half joking.

"On my mom's side, how d'you know?" He asked nodding his head upwards.

"Wild guess," he sighed, a small smile gracing his lips.