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 heart breaks with every step I take away from the apartment. I don't know what to say or what to do. Carter has every right to be angry with me. I've lied to him at every turn, kept the truth from him. I don't know how to make that right.
Tears flow down my face uninterrupted as I exhale a sob. Words simply fail me, and I have no idea where I'm heading. I just know I can't return to the apartment when Carter asked for space. It's the least I could do.
Though it's cold, with snow covering the city like a white blanket, my skin is numb from the pain I feel in my chest. Howling winds sweep by me, causing my hair to spill into my face and stick to my tear-stained cheeks. My feet carry me off, stomping against the concrete, crunching the snow beneath them.
I glance up at the bright blue sky riddled with fluffy clouds. The sun is beaming down upon me, and I remember another day being this warm, reflecting poorly on my mood.
It was the day of Liv's funeral, the wake at her parents' house. It was a beautiful day like this, minus the cold and snow. I remember thinking this must be some cosmic joke as I stared at a pair of ravens flying about that day. I had just lost my best friend, and here was the world, life just continuing on around me as if nothing had happened.
I hated the weather that day, and I hate it today.
I exhale softly, willing the tears to stop as white puffs of air escape my lips.
Everything's going to be okay, I tell myself. Carter just needs to cool off, and he'll hear me out. He doesn't truly hate me; it's just his heightened emotions speaking.
I close my eyes, inhaling large gulps of air into my lungs as I tilt my face towards the warmth of the sun. While tears still sting the back of my eyes, they've at least stopped falling for now. I lick my dry lips and blink my eyes open, trying to determine where to go.
I refuse to go back to Spencer, and I'm glad I'm not even tempted to. I guess that's a blessing in all this.
But as I cast a glance around me, I realize that I've subconsciously wandered off to where I'm familiar. Standing before me is a mansion-style house with a long driveway, shrubs that are forever forest green, and fence posts, which I remember climbing when I was 12.
The usually well-maintained lawn is now covered with undisturbed snow. There isn't a single car in the driveway, and I'm not sure if anyone's home. My gaze drifts over the exterior, and my mind filters through all my memories of my time here.
When I was ten, Liv and I raced on bikes—mine borrowed from little Penny since I couldn't afford to buy one—and it was one of the first memories I had laughing to the sky, my cheeks flushed, my stomach hurting. We rolled down the driveway, my feet unable to keep up with how fast the pedal was turning, and we screeched to a stop in the middle of the street.
Or the time I was 13, we had just started high school, and I didn't know where to go or hide when Ricky found me at school and demanded that I go back home for the social workers. Luckily, Liv hadn't seen him, but I ran back here after the appointment with an ache and didn't want to go in when breathing seemed difficult. I spent 20 minutes climbing that low-hanging tree, which usually only took me five minutes. Liv found me shortly after, climbed up into the tree, sat next to me and told me how Penny was planning to get me back for the sandwich prank I played on her the week before.
