Counting To Fifteen [Grey's Anatomy]

chapter fifty seven - a helicopter

Daisy had a boyfriend, and she tried her very best to hide it from Mark.

Or...not a boyfriend, rather a boy friend.

Mark would be weird about it regardless, so Daisy didn't think it was something she needed to talk with him about.

The air outside was starting to feel cooler and cooler by the beginning of October. Daisy was a mere week away from her fifteenth birthday, and the routine birthday hater was ecstatic for the golden year approaching.

Besides, she had friends now.

Still only two friends, but birthday parties were far less miserable when you had actual friends to invite.

Anna was the most compelling friend that Daisy had ever had. Bright and radiant and charismatic, a human magnet. Daisy was drawn to her, and she marveled in the fact that somebody so extroverted had taken it upon themselves to befriend an intense introvert.

Carter was somewhere between. Not quite an extrovert, but certainly not an introvert. He knew how to keep a conversation alive in a manner that Daisy never could with strangers.

Carter was funny. Daisy liked Carter.

Daisy liked his couch too, a burgundy velvet material that felt cool underneath the pair as they watched a movie that Daisy couldn't remember the name of.

Carter's apartment was obnoxiously silent due to a lack of company present. Busy parents had bonded the two in the first place, so it was naturally fitting that Daisy had been to Carter's place more times than she could count and had never met his workaholic parents.

Daisy was aware that she liked Carter a lot more than Carter liked her. They were just friends, and maybe he didn't ever want to stop being just friends.

But Carter at least liked her a little, made obvious by the way that the two were sat so close together they were almost touching.

It was almost uncomfortable, in that sense. Not touching at all, but so close.

Daisy didn't retain the plot of the movie at all. She would feel his elbow brush hers, and he would quickly retract and mumble an apology. He would lean his head over slightly and Daisy could feel his presence, until Carter realized and turned his head the other way.

At the halfway mark, Carter's hand brushed Daisy's, and the girl wanted to scream. He had it sitting there, waiting. He was waiting, but he was going to hold it any minute.

He was going to hold it.

He was going to—

Carter pulled back abruptly at the obnoxious sound of Daisy's phone ringing in her pocket.

Mark.

Daisy groaned when she saw the time, pulling away from Carter on the couch and begrudgingly taking a stand.

"I have to go."

Carter paused the movie in an attempt to not miss any of the on-screen dialogue, though neither had been paying attention to the screen in the first place.

"The movie isn't over, though. It's early, it's not even six yet."

"If I'm late for dinner, my dad will freak out." Daisy tried her best to explain, though Carter seemed doubtful.

"Will he really?"

Daisy didn't answer, rather held her phone screen out to Carter, displaying her father's third phone call in a row to her. As if Daisy were missing a funeral rather than dinner.