“Yo, Mahoney!”
The shout breaks the spell. Carter’s arm falls from my shoulders. We both look up as one of his teammates stalks toward us, nodding at Carter, then looking over at me. His smirk grows when his gaze lands on me.
“Careful, man, you don’t wanna mess around with Zoey the ho. She’ll run and tell her mommy on you for lookin’ at her wrong.”
I stiffen, but tilt my chin up stubbornly. “No, you can look all you want, just don’t touch unless you want a criminal record.” My tone is deceptively sweet, but my eyes are two orbs of blue ice.
He shakes his head at me, his gaze dropping to the most inappropriate parts of my body. “It’s a damn shame someone so fine has to be such a prude.”
“I prefer selective. Tossin’ a ball around with your buddies doesn’t really go the distance in impressing me. Sorry.”
Scoffing, he says, “Tossin’ the ball around with our buddies? We don’t play ball in someone’s backyard, darlin’; we’re champions.”
God, who cares? I’ve talked to jocks enough for one day, and I’m definitely not going to get any more insight into Carter with his bonehead friend here, so it’s time to wrap it up.
“Great. Well, if you’re so impressive, surely there are girls who want your attention, so there’s no need to force it on the ones who don’t,” I point out.
“No one buys your bullshit, Zoey,” he tells me, his blue eyes glowing with contempt. “Parsons has never struggled with the ladies, and frankly I don’t see anything so special about you to make him lose his damn mind.” Advancing a step closer, his voice drops with menace. “We all know you’re just a stuck-up, lyin’ little bitch.”
I swallow, resisting the urge to take a step back. It’s easy to run off at the mouth with these meatheads, but when they bring physicality into the arena, I can no longer compete.
“That’s enough,” Carter says, surprising both of us.
My gaze darts to him, and his friend’s eyebrows rise, but he takes a slow step back. Despite his obedience, he regards Carter with the confusion of a junk yard dog whose owner just commanded he let a thief escape unscathed.
Carter doesn’t explain himself. He moves away from me and nods at his friend as he walks ahead of him, clearly expecting him to fall in line and follow his lead. “Come on, I’m starving. What’d your mom make good for me today, Cartwright?”
His friend smiles, shaking his head. “You’re such an asshole.”
As unimpressed as I am when other girls are struck stupid by the sight of Carter Mahoney, I find myself watching him disappear down the hall, wondering endlessly about why he does everything he does. Why did he let me mouth off like that without joining Cartwright’s side. Why stop Cartwright when he got mean? What just happened doesn’t jive with Carter’s all-important image. I’m the enemy, and Carter let them chant at me just this morning.
I’m so distracted that I don’t even realize Grace sidles up beside me until I hear her voice. “Why were you walkin’ with Carter Mahoney?”
Finally tearing my eyes away from his disappearing figure, I force my feet into motion. “I wasn’t walking with him. We were both leaving class at the same time, that’s all. He’s in my history class.”
“I’m aware of that. But it definitely looked like you two were talking until his friend broke up the party.”
I shrug. “Sometimes when he leaves class and doesn’t have anyone else to talk to, he talks to me.”
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t heard him joinin’ in lately when people are talking crap about you with that lame nickname the jocks used absolutely no brain power to dream up,” she says.
“Right? Zoey the ho is so easy. They could have at least gone with something fun, like harlot or trollop.”
“Harlot is such a fun word,” Grace agrees. “Ho is unimaginative.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not popular for their cunning wit,” I point out.
Glancing over at me, Grace decides to go fishing. “Carter Mahoney is kind of gorgeous. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “Don’t do this. Not today, Satan.”
Shrugging innocently, she says, “I’m just saying, he doesn’t follow me out of classrooms talkin’ my ear off. Do you like him?”
“Definitely not. No. He’s… bad news.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” Grace says, hugging her own books as we walk. “I don’t like to gossip, but considering the women he’s known to spend his time with, I’m sure he’s way too fast for you anyway. Romantically, I mean. If you’re just reaching out in a casual, Christian way then no big deal, but he’s definitely not waiting for marriage, I’ll just say that.”
I nearly stop in my tracks, staring with new eyes at my best friend and possible fountain of information. “You know things about Carter’s sex life?”