Climax

Curiosity Made Carl Gay - 11

Terry

Carl is quiet. It makes me nervous, why is he taking me home if he's not willing to talk with me? Me getting beat up somehow mangled what we had? My eyes burn at the memory.

The moment I was sharing with Carl, teasing him about midnight snack, watching his eyes wide, wanting to kiss. So much fuss and I didn't even kiss him.

I sigh, and look through the window. It's too dark to figure out where we are. It must be close to eleven. How did our date take the worst turn imaginable and still I'm with Carl?

"We're home. Don't get down yet." Carl's voice is normal, like always sweet and confident.

"Okay."

He gets down, and in a few seconds my side of the door opens.

"Come on," he says, extending his hand.

I smile. Gentleman.

I swat his hand. "I can walk."

"I can't. Take it."

I shake my head and grip his fingers and jump out from the truck, like I'd do any other day.

"Careful. You've a head injury. It's no small matter." He glares at me, it's the first time and it's fabulous.

Carl is Carl. Whatever made him quiet during the ride has left him.

I lean on him and immediately an iron-like arm wraps around my waist. "Dizzy?" He asks, worried.

"A little." It's not a lie. I haven't had any food apart from the fries we had in the mall.

"It's expected, don't worry about it. Come on, one foot in front of the other."

I scoff. "I thought you'd offer to carry me."

He shakes his finger, glaring. "Don't joke about this. If you can't walk, I can carry."

"I can." It's only a dozen steps to the door. And I have the strongest arm holding me upright.

He nods and we walk.

Why was he quiet until a few minutes back, if he is all normal now? Was he worried that my split lip would make it hard for me to speak? Is it even about me? Maybe it is a totally different reason. A Carl reason. I ask instead of worrying over it.

"Why didn't you talk to me till now? Like, the whole drive, you didn't say a single word to me." I watch his face in the dim lawn light.

He shrugs and looks the other way.

My stomach clenches.

"Sorry. It's just that I can't drive and talk at the same time."

What? "Oh. What about eating and driving?" I ask, wondering why the heck I was worried. All I had to do was ask. And Carl would give me a perfectly valid, perfectly unbelievable and perfectly Carlclusive reason.

"That's fine. If someone is feeding me. Fio gives me popcorn or cookies or things like that." He unlocks the door, grinning at me.

My answering smile drops, as I look at the drawing room in front of me. Until then I forced myself to not think about this. I can't hide from the fact anymore. I'm at someone's place, like a refugee. My own home isn't safe for me. My own dad is my enemy.

"My parents are out on a date night. Fio has a sleepover at a friend's place. Here, wait. I'll get you something to eat." He gently pushes me down on the couch. If he has seen my face go grim, he doesn't comment on it. I'm grateful for that.