The Foolish Five

Not His Carter

Setting: Three years after Nevaeh's death. Links to 'The Girl in the Hoodie', which means she didn't live to have kids.

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Not His Carter

Noah had met a girl. He had been walking along town at 2 am on a Friday night —or Saturday morning— with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his old football hoodie. He had been trapped in his thoughts when a girl no taller than 5'3 had practically flown out of the doors of the twenty-four hour McDonald's and crashed straight into him, somehow knocking his unsuspecting six-foot-three frame to the ground with her landing sprawled across his chest. She had scrambled off him with flaming red cheeks as she apologised profusely, holding her small hand out to help him up as he stared up at her in slight annoyance. It was not on his to-do list to end up on the cold ground outside of McDonald's at 2AM. Her long blonde hair was all over the place from the fall, her McDonald's uniform dishevelled, and the tip of her button nose was pink due to the harsh Winter temperatures the small town experienced every year. She continued to stutter out apologies as Noah accepted her hand after a minute, letting her pull him up. Well, he had pushed himself up, seeing as there was no way this tiny girl would be able to help him up. As soon as she caught a glimpse of his face, her words had caught in her throat and her cheeks had flushed an even deeper red than before. He quickly assured her that it was alright before starting on his way again.

"Uh—my name's Stella!" Her voice called from behind him, making him stop in his tracks because he could practically hear Nevaeh ordering him not to be rude and not to walk away no matter how much he wanted to.

"Noah." He replies gruffly, before starting to walk away again.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" She squeaks out quickly, making him turn around to face her. "Tomorrow night?"

A date.

A date with someone who isn't Nevaeh.

"Not really." He mumbled out without thinking.

"Oh." Her face fell.

He caught her crestfallen expression, which she desperately tried to cover up, but to no avail. He mentally slapped himself, immediately feeling bad. "No, look, I have work—are you working tomorrow?"

She nodded, not looking at him due to her embarrassment. "Nine to five."

He nodded, shoving his hands back in his pockets, spinning on his heel and walking away again. "See you around, Stella."

*~*

Noah had talked to his friends and his mother. They had all told him the same thing.

'Go on the date.'

They all agreed that he needed to at least try to move on. It had been three, almost four years. No one could ever replace Nevaeh, but if there was a chance this girl could make Noah happy, he should go for it.

So the next day, he had dragged himself down to MCDonald's to tell her he would pick her up at seven the next night.

He had quickly found himself sitting at a small, round table across from Stella in a fancy restaurant with the collar of his dress shirt scratching against his throat a day later on a Sunday night as he didn't have a shift that night. He had quickly learned how high-maintenance this girl was when she suggested the restaurant, saying she always went there on first dates.

Nevaeh would've wanted to get McDonald's at 3AM in her pyjamas, not be sitting in an overpriced restaurant in fancy clothes.

Stella quickly rid herself of the shy persona from two nights ago, now not being able to stop talking about herself, causing Noah to think one thing. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

The whole date, Noah couldn't help but compare this girl to his Carter. He couldn't help but notice how this girl was the complete opposite to his Carter.

This girl had straight blonde hair, his Carter had wavy brown hair. This girl was extremely short, his Carter was tall. This girl had bland brown eyes, his Carter had bright blue eyes. This girl was high-maintenance, his Carter would be fine with having a supermarket burrito for dinner. This girl wanted to become a doctor because she would earn a lot of money and become rich, his Carter wanted to become a child psychologist because she loved kids and would do anything to help them. This girl had been talking about herself for two hours straight now, his Carter couldn't even talk about herself for thirty seconds without wanting to throw herself off a cliff. This girl had tried to kiss him as soon as he dropped her home after the horrible date, his Carter had punched him in the fucking face after their first kiss.

Yes, Stella tried to kiss him. He quickly backed away and told her he wasn't interested before he promptly left.

He really dodged a fucking bullet.

So now here he was, lying in his bed in the apartment he shared with Max, Dylan and Megan.

He was in nothing but a pair of sweatpants as he stared up at the ceiling blankly.

Noah King wasn't heartless, although it was debatable at times. Right now, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He couldn't help but feel like he had betrayed his Carter by going on that train wreck of a date.

For the first year after Nevaeh died, he had cried himself to sleep every night. He didn't know his friends could hear his sobs every single night, causing them to start bawling also, nor did they ever dare to tell him, not wanting to risk making him feel bad about it and start bottling his feelings up even more than he already did. After that first year, Noah had stopped crying every night. In fact, he hadn't cried since. Until now, that is.

Noah couldn't stop the tears that welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks at the thought of her, his chest clenching painfully. He wanted to slam his fist into a wall over and over until the pain went away. But the sad truth is, the pain would never go away. He'd just get more and more used to it, until eventually, the pain would be normal.

He turned onto his side before curling up, silent tears rolling down his face.

He couldn't move on. He would never be able to move on.

That girl wasn't his Carter.

No one will ever be his Carter.