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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Carters Pov .....
"What if I don't want to?" She whispers and my heart skips a beat.
"Well then you don't have to. Hate me or not Mila, i'll always be here waiting." She moves to prop her head up on her hands, our faces a mere couple centimeters apart.
"You make hating you particularly difficult for me..." Mila smiles while brushing a thumb over my lip.
"Doesn't that make me all the more desirable?" I tease and Mila sighs. "As disgustingly adorable as this all is, our brownies are ready. And i'm hungry."
I nod and get up after her, watching as she fixes her cardigan and looks at the stars once more, the roof and then my wrist. "You wanna do something for me?"
"Depends what it is, love." She walks around the blankets, turning me around so my back is facing away from her and shoving my shoulders lower to the ground.
"Are you ready?" I don't get a chance to question it before Mila jumps up on my back, clinging to me as I try to get a hold of her.
"If you wanted a piggy back, you could have just asked." I state and begin to walk out of the room. "Now where's the fun in that, the element of surprise is ten times better." She whispers into my ear and I fucking shiver, like an idiot.
"God Carter, you're too easy."
Carter.
"Oh shut up, if I really brought my flirting A-game, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself." I don't even have to look back at her to know she's rolled those pretty eyes of hers.
I almost stumble going down the stairs and she laughs, clutching to my neck even tighter, her hair falling over my shoulder. I didn't even mean to smell it like a fucking creep, but I did. It smelt amazing, by the way.
"Would you keep your balance, because if you fall then we're both going down." I shush her, speeding up as I reach the bottom of the staircase.
Finally, we reach the kitchen and she practically leaps off my back, rushing over to the oven and takes out our brownies. In all fairness, they didn't look awful.
"Oh wow, these actually look decent." She remarks while placing them on the counter and sitting on one of the stools. I join her, going on the stool to the right.
She cuts two small slices and I take it from her hands. We don't have plates yet neither of us truly care. The crumbs get all over the counter as she chews away, I'm no different, spilling crumbs on the floor.
