This Thing That Breaks My Heart

Chapter 4

The first two days home were tortuous. Carter spent most of those two days in bed, in the dark. He knew it wouldn’t be a far stretch for him to fall into a black depression, to wallow in his misery, give up soccer and his friends. It scared him, how easy it could be.

Carter picked up the phone before he could second-guess himself. “Bobby? Would it be cool if I crashed on the couch for a bit? I’d help with rent.”

God bless him, Bobby didn’t question why or even hesitate to say ‘yes, of course.’

Carter felt old. Old and washed up. He felt hollow, a gaping emptiness had settled deep in his chest. Everything ached; the emotional turmoil was seeping into his muscles and bones. Maybe this move would help him find himself again, find his way back to his normal self.

Maybe it would help keep her out of his head.

* * * * * *

“Are you sure you guys don’t mind? I feel bad about taking your room, Bridget. I can sleep on the couch.”

Erica laughed as Bridget and Bobby turned pink and stared at the floor. “Oh, she’s not using it. Consider it yours.”

Carter smirked at the two. “Really? You guys are like serious now? Sharing a room and everything.” He let out a low whistle.

“Well, it made sense. They were sneaking around to each other’s rooms anyways, and I was tired of being woken up when they were in Bridget's bed.”

Bobby smacked her.

“Bobby!”

“Erica!”

“What? Your room is the furthest from everything. I love ya guys, but I don’t want to hear Bridget in the throes of passion. It’s gross.”

Carter laughed at the absolute mortification on both of their faces. “Wait a minute. You expect me to sleep in the same bed they had crazy sex in?”

“I changed the sheets and flipped the mattress,” Bridget mumbled through her embarrassment.

“And she’s not denying it!” Erica pointed out. “Get it, Bobby!”

“You flipped the mattress? What the hell did you guys do that you needed to do that?”

Bridget turned a brilliant red, while Bobby just gaped at them. The two were on a roll, and the jokes kept getting raunchier. By dinnertime, Erica and Carter only had to look at each other to break into raucous laughter.

* * * * * *

“Fantastic. Why’d we get her a sidekick?” Bobby sighed. They looked at each other as Erica attempts to teach Carter cartwheels in the living room with feet coming dangerously close to the TV.

“They’re going to destroy the house.” He continued.

“Oh please. Don’t be a hypocrite. Last week, you broke two lamps and a table playing soccer with Erica.”

“Oh…oops. I guess you found out.”

“It was pretty obvious.”

“Should I mention the ceiling fan you broke? Yeah. Not so innocent either, huh Bridge?”

“The ball barely even tapped it. It was probably almost broken anyways.”

“The waterballoon fight.”

“Bobby, you participated. And it was Erica’s fault we never made it outside.”

“Yeah, and I won.”

Bridget rolled her eyes. She had a feeling that the only reason Bobby brought that incident up was to gloat. Oh, sports players. “You won because you cheated.”