Carter Ortese is Trouble - completed (The Boys #1)

Chapter 47: Carter

Two weeks later, Emma is back in school. One week after that, we're old news. Most people have heard about Mika and her arranged marriage, which has become the new topic of conversation. Everyone has decided to weigh in on the subject, and it permeates through all of my classes. We talk about arranged marriages throughout the ages in World History, discuss how the topic affected fictional stories and shaped characters in Literature Arts, and somehow, someone manages to relate it to a geometry theorem.

I don't pretend to understand it—any of it.

But the grapevine has lost Emma and I as the target, and I'm enjoying my life without being a spectacle. I can be me, and Emma can be her, and most people have left us alone. Though, I am sympathetic for Mika, but she is positively beaming most days as Ayaan and her have seemed to hit it off.

Over the past few weeks, I've joined Emma at her rehab a couple times. I wanted to learn exactly what she can and cannot do, as she's barely putting limitations on herself. I'm particularly worried about what dance moves can ruin her progress. It's been tedious and arduous, especially for Emma, who has been infuriated by the slowness of her recovery.

We have, however, learned that Emma Williams can dance exactly three steps with relative ease, which is consequently the exact number of steps it takes to dance to swing music. More than any fancy styles, what matters most is doing it for fun and having energy in your movements.

I've never tried dancing before now, but Emma's come by my apartment after school twice, and we watched some videos on her phone. She usually ends up laughing at my attempts to pull off some move with flair, but I'm like it. I like learning with her.

When I'm busy at work, she's busy composing, with her mother's blessing. They've gone to four therapy sessions, and Emma thinks it's helping. "You should try it sometime, Carter. If you want."

"Yeah, maybe," I say, but I don't have any intention to, and she knows it. I kiss her instead.

I don't think therapy is made for guys like me. I was scared to live, but now that my fear is gone, I feel truly and completely alive.

The Monday before the swing festival, I'm feeling level-headed as I go into school exceptionally early. I walk straight to the administrative offices, and I wait until 7:15 rolls around. I head back to my guidance counselor's office and knock on the door, then wait some more.

"Come in," he says, and I twist the knob.

He stares at me while I stand in his doorway, his mouth gaping open like a dying fish. His eyes are wide with surprise.

"Carter," Mr. Cannes says after a moment. His dark eyes look at me with only a bit more drowsiness than what I'm feeling. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I made an appointment. Did you not see it?"

"Just because your name is there doesn't mean you'll actually show up." He closes a folder in front of him. "I should have learned from the last time," he says with a slight arch of curiosity like I'm some science experiment.

"I'm full of surprises lately," I say, voice flat.

"Since you are here, why don't you take a seat?"

I am already pulling out the chair before he finishes his sentence, because I came here to meet with the guy whether he believes me or not. I sit down and toss my backpack onto the floor. Fighting back a yawn, I rub my eyes. I had to wake up early for this appointment, as I wanted to meet with him before first period.

I don't want to miss anymore of my classes. Now that I want a future, I actually need to be present to achieve it.

"So," I say. "I've been thinking about what I should do with the rest of my life. And I'm not quite sure how to go about the next steps, so I thought why not talk to someone who can guide me through it?"