Academic Rivals to Lovers in a Boarding School
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"You wanna know the really dumb meaning behind my name?" He muses and I walk ahead of him. "Nope."
"Basically, it means the transporter of goods by cart or wagon, it's from an old french word I be...
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..... Mila's Pov
"What would you name your tits if you had the choice?" He questions as I tap my heel against the carpet. "Maybe like... Janet and Jacky, they really fit well together."
Carter chuckles to himself, seeming slightly surprised that I answered so casually, but the truth? I've been waiting for someone to ask me that for years.
"Okay. Mila, you look stunning as always. Carter, fix your fucking tie or I'll curb stomp your ass." The side of my lips tip upwards as Blair makes fun of Carter.
He simply rolls his eyes, holding out his arm for me to take. Three seconds before the main doors open, he whispers quietly in my ear. "Just one thing, if you even look at another guy tonight, I'll fuck the attitude out of you Blondie."
I gulp once, twice. How on earth does he expect me to walk out there now? I don't even get a chance to process the words when the music plays.
I squeeze his arm so he looks down to me, playing the dumb act, playing it off as if what he said was totally and completely normal.
"Do you have to be so possessive?" I hiss at him and he grins, looking down at my chest. I try to ignore it, making sure to politely smile at everyone in the church pews.
"With you? Yes." Christ almighty.
"I loathe you Crawford." He simply smiles. "You loathe everything Mila, that includes people, animals, school, happiness, joy..."
Oh whatever, I don't hate everything? Well... I hate most things, but not everything.
I let go of his arm once we reach the top, standing beside my aunts and cousins. I know one thing for sure, that I hate hate hate them. They blame me for my dads death or whatever, it's stupid, incredibly stupid.
I never actually did anything wrong, there has never ever been any viable reason to blame me for it, yet somehow it's like they all mutually decided to hate my guts. From my innocent age of 9, to my 'I hate everyone and everything' age of 18.
While I'm lost in thought, the doors burst open one final time, revealing my gorgeous mother. She's carrying a huge bouquet and then she has the longest train on a dress that I ever thought was even possible.
It makes me wonder, looking between the groom, a little man who's balding at the ripe age of forty-six and then the bride, my stunning, ruthless, thirty-eight year old mother who was widowed at twenty-nine. Is this how Carter and I's relationship will be?
My mother and Herman, yes, his name is Herman. They barely talk, she claims to love him but I'm not stupid, obviously I know that there is nothing even close to love in between them, practically strangers.
My future scares me, weddings scare me, my mother scares me. What doesn't scare me? Holding a fucking gun, I have loved it since as long as I can remember.
