Trust Me. I'm Lying - (SLOWLY EDITING)

The Other Definition Of Falling: Chapter 15

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."

—Billy. Age 4.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

The Other Definition Of Falling.

I started to laugh at the utmost absurdity of his statement. "You are kidding yourself if you think I'm getting in a vehicle with you."

Carson smirked. Something in this stupid smile told me that he was starting to have an idea that would not be good for me. "You know, Bells? Stubbornness is a personality trait of certain people, normally those who fear change."

I scoffed. "Did you Google that?"

"Maybe."

"I hate change, thought you ought to know that," I informed him. I turned around and started walking back to my house. "See you, Carson."

"Bells," Carson began. I ignored him, trying to ignore the fact that it made my stomach lurch each time he called me that. "Don't make me force you to get in the car."

That successfully made me turn around and glare at him, my blood boiling. "You are very mistaken if you ever think you can make me do anything I don't want to do."

"I do have a way of making you do something you don't want to," he informed me casually. "You told me yourself. Christina, is that her name? She dragged you to that bonfire, did she not?" I didn't answer. "Anyways, I won't try that. Yet. Probably because you'll call the cops on me or something."

I, again, chose to ignore this. I continued to glare at Carson, with my eyes narrowed to slits. I could almost feel my left eye start to twitch from frustration. I would not have this ruin my afternoon. I told Chris I'd be at her house in two hours tops. I turned around again.

Carson spoke again before I reached the door. I was so sure he was smiling. "So we move on to plan B: Waiting."

I didn't want to know what he meant by waiting, and I didn't want to find out. I rolled my eyes and entered my house, trying not to think of the fact that Carson Samuels was outside. I was seriously going to kill Aiden.

I went upstairs and started throwing a couple of items of clothing into my bag. I fought the urge to scream and throw something from an upstairs window. Had Carson just assumed I would go with him like that? He should know better. He ought to know better by now.

What was he planning anyway? I felt curiosity burning its way into my head. It was frustrating— trying to maintain some dignity and at the same time lying to myself that I most definitely did not want to go with him. I was kind of afraid to get in a car alone with him. Perhaps he'd change his mind halfway through and decided to kill me and dump my body in a river or something.

It was then that I realized I needed to take the pills I hadn't taken this morning. I was over-thinking and marking ridiculous assumptions. As I stood up, I looked outside my window. Carson's Tucson was still there.

I didn't know if this frustrated me or made me want to laugh. Laugh, because of Carson's stubbornness. In a way, when he would go out of his way to annoy other people. And it also bothered me since Mom came home early from work on Fridays.

"Okay, Isabelle. Relax and give him an hour," I told myself. "Give him one hour until you call the cops." I shook my head. I had the feeling this would not end the way I wanted. Which was a situation I would definitely not win.