𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐒 two years ago, my life changed forever. All it took was one night to alter the rest of my life. I wasn't sure about a lot of things however, there are two things that I was absolutely certain on: what I wanted to wear and who...
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I wake up before Harper. Before the sunrises actually. Get dressed. Have a slice of toast. Make a tea with a teaspoon of milk and four sugars. Send Haysie a text because I have her number now and then I go to my mum's.
She's not actually there—away with some of her pals in Paris for a spa getaway but dads home. I know that because I sent Carter there knowing my mum wasn't there.
When I shove my key in the door and throw my phone and wallet on the entry table, I hope to God I've got to Carter before he goes off the radar again. We don't talk about what happened—bring it up, he'll threaten to kill you and I actually will. It was the unspoken rule we had as a group.
It's slightly dark outside still but peeks of orange and yellow are coming through the forest in the garden. Dad's in his office—I can see the light from under the door. Go upstairs and knock once on the door I know he'll be in.
He doesn't give me an answer but I open the door anyway. It never gets old seeing him like this. I fucking hate it. Kills me every time. Carter's on the bed, dressed in pants and socks, an arm hanging off the edge and his blonde hair ruffled. He's asleep—passed out probably.
A bucket and towel sit next to the bed, a water on the side table and a plate of crackers that haven't been touched. The rooms a bit of a tip, probably put up a fight with my dad when he first got here yesterday.
"Carter, mate? You still with us?" I stand at the foot of the four-poster canopy bed and nudge his foot with my knee. He lets out a pained groan from the back of his throat and twists on the mattress. I notice the bedding is coming away, half the mattress cover and the pillowcases are strewn on the floor.
My stomach hollows out as I think about what he must've gone through last night. Most painful might of his life and here I was, in Harper's bed happy as Larry.
I've seen some shit in my life. I went to prison for two years—the gruesome stories I have are endless but seeing my cousin go through something like this tops them all, I think.
Haysie's a completely other section in my head. She's a whole part of me. Not just a list or a story. She's the whole thing so I don't include her in that.
Carter mumbles something out—tries to form a sentence but his eyes end up rolling into the back of his head and a scream tears through his clenched teeth instead. I slap his bare shin, "you're alright, mate. Sleep it off, yeah."
I leave the bedroom because I don't think I can take looking at him much longer. Dad's in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a cooked breakfast frying away in a pan.
"Oh, yeah, don't worry about me. I wouldn't want any of that," I roll my eyes and help myself to a black coffee.
"Shut up you knob, if I knew you were here I would've made enough for two." Blake serves up his breakfast, completely forgetting about his poor starving son.
