Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
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My stomach heaves and clenches in pain from hunger as I step up to my mirror in the bathroom, having not eaten since lunch the previous day. Fatigue is etched deep within my bones, and even after showering, I still feel sluggish. I shiver as goosebumps scatter across my skin, and my fingers go numb from the lack of energy.
And taking a cold shower didn't help.
Meeting my eye in the mirror, I study my dull features. My pale, ashen skin looks dry and grave as I've lost all colour. The long lashes that frame my eyes appear sunken in a void of dark circles and heavy bags. My pink lips are dry and chapped; there's even a zit under my lower lip.
I turn away, unable to look at myself any longer, as I collect my hairbrush. I'm officially moving out today, and I couldn't be more relieved. Although I'm not sure what to expect where I'm going, at least I'll be off the streets and out of this hellhole.
I shudder from the phantom cold that consumes me when the memory of sleeping in an alleyway slithers into my mind. From the pained cold that seeped through my many layers to the hard surface of gravel or concrete, making everything appear wet and numb, and the noises I heard. I clench my fists at the reminder: the chirp of crickets, the buzzing of mosquitos, the rumbling engines of passing cars, the laughter and chatter of people walking by and not caring that I was there, and Olive's subtle whining that echoed off the brick walls. Not to mention the fear from every footfall that appeared to be approaching me to every creak or groan of the door opening.
I can't relive that again. I can't go through it.
I gulp, forcing the knot down my parched throat as I brush through the tangles in my hair. Noting how badly I shake, I grip my wrist with my other hand. When I can't get the trembling under control, I slam the brush against the sink before falling over, supporting my weight on my sprawled palms.
I think back to running into Ryan. Of all the people to room with, I had to get an apartment with Ryan's brother-in-law. Someone from my past.
I attempt to swallow past the knot in my throat again, hating myself for being put in a position where I need to ask for help. Not that Ryan is someone who would taunt me, but still, knowing I couldn't figure things out on my own stings a little. For the past five years, I've been able to sustain and care for Olive and myself; no matter how hard things got or how many meals I had to skip, at least I had only myself to count on. I couldn't be betrayed by myself, couldn't get hurt. The second I let someone in, I open myself up to that vulnerability. That's when I allow myself the opportunity for a world of pain.
And now I'm at the mercy of Ryan and Carter.
Carter Blake.
I could tell from his face that he didn't recognize me. Why would he? I was barely a blip in his life, barely made an impact. When he first moved to Cardill High School, I remember Carter being this enigma. Despite his demeanour, he was mysterious with brooding features, a permanent scowl, and an expression screaming he didn't care about anything. It was like he was angry at the world and the people in it.
