9.

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"Carter!"

I jerk upwards, the movement too fast to where I immediately lose my balance and topple to the floor, making me slam my shoulder into the corner of the coffee table. I groan in pain, my head and shoulder throbbing as I lie on the hard ground of my living room.

Or, at least, I think it's my living room.

I had a flurry of nightmares, the dreadful feeling of them clinging to me like a virus as I try to slow my breathing and calm down. I rub my aching body while attempting to sit up - my mind foggy with sleep and despair.

For a second I'm almost positive my stepbrother is actually in the room with me.

Luckily I'm wrong, however, my mother stands there in his stead, having woken me up in the first place.

"Carter, why in the world are you home?!"

I blink a few times to clear my mind and return to reality before turning to stare at the woman standing there with her hands on her hips. I can't say that being woken up was unwelcome, considering my nightmare, but I can't help the slight ping of irritation with her sudden appearance and tendency to nag.

Can't she stop yelling at me for one second?

Most parents would be worried about why their son is home early from school, asking them if they're okay or if anything's happened. My mom, however, is already convinced that I'm just skipping.

"You better answer me young man, or I swear I'll call your dad and tell him to come home right now so he can deal with you!"

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as I finally wake up completely.

"I wasn't feeling well," I respond simply.

Which is, apparently, the wrong answer.

"You weren't feeling well??" She repeats breathlessly, completely flabbergasted. "That is no excuse for missing school! You know, when I was your age, my mother would beat me if I didn't go to school! It didn't matter how I was feeling, I always had to go and there were no arguments about it--"

"Yes Mom, I know. You've told me this a million times—" I sigh.

"—Then you should know that it's unacceptable! This is the last straw, Carter. I'm taking away your cell phone and I'm going to call your new therapist for an early session."

At this, I gape at her, because no, I did not want to see that therapist creep again. Also, I promised Gray I'd actually answer my phone, which would be much harder without one.

"Hand it over and head straight up to your room." She tells me, holding her hand out expectantly. I do so reluctantly, knowing there's no point in arguing even if legally I'm an adult and shouldn't have to hand over my belongings.

Besides, Gray is the only person who messages me anyways.

She huffs, obviously annoyed with how compliant I am. I don't know what she expected, it's not like I'm ever really on my phone much anyways and I'm always locking myself up in my room without being made to. I just hope she won't be checking in on me since I'd rather not have to deal with her more than I have to.

I still feel on edge from the horrifying dreams I had, which unfortunately means that as soon as my hand slightly brushes hers after dropping the phone into her palm, I end up jerking my arm away harshly, flinching, causing her to fumble in surprise as she tries not to drop the mobile device. She luckily catches it, placing a hand on her heart in relief before shooting me a scathing glare. "Really— that was overdramatic! I barely even touched you, you're ridiculous."

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