He isn’t. The hall is empty, so I quickly escape it and head back to the relative safety of the dining room. Carter is lingering by the door, behaving himself. He threw out our trash and the table we sat at is empty now.
“Ready?” he asks me.
I nod my head and walk toward him, my stomach still rocking from the stress. He opens the door for me, and I murmur a distracted thank you. If he didn’t send me to the bathroom to wipe away phantom wing sauce so he could corner me alone, then why?
Carter opens the passenger side door for me, too. I’m surprised, and even more guarded by his gentlemanly behavior. Carter Mahoney is not a gentleman, I know that to be true. Pouncing on me in this driveway would also be ill-advised; we are out in the open here. Even the high school parking lot would be a better spot, though given there are security cameras on the outside of the school (just not the inside, where they could have helped me) even that would be ill-advised. The football team would probably get him out of that one, though. My understanding is Carter’s position on the team is crucial to their success, so if I turned another football player in for their foul play, the tapes proving me right would probably mysteriously turn up missing. They already lost Jake Parsons for the season for the sake of my honor; they’re not going to lose Carter Mahoney, too.
Plus, if I legitimately tried to get Carter in trouble, the whole town would turn on me in such a way that their response to my problem with Jake Parsons would look like a welcome wagon. Just like Carter told me the cheerleaders sided with Jake over me even though they’re girls, and as vulnerable to sexual harassment as I am, it all comes down to who they like more. It will never be me. Grace is probably the only person in town who would stand beside me if I stood against Carter, and even she might struggle. We’re good friends, but she has many more, and most of them would turn on me. Remaining loyal to me in that scenario would be stressful for Grace, and I’m not sure I could ask her to do it.
I’m not cut from the right cloth to fit in, while Carter Mahoney seems to be a chameleon. I don’t know if I’ve actually seen the real him, or if this is just some other facet of The Carter Mahoney Show, but I do know he has a ready supply of charm and amiability, and I lack both. No one sides with the unlikable loner over the town’s golden boy. Hell, my own mother struggles to support my defense of myself, and she should be my champion, she should be in my corner, no matter what everyone else thinks.
Carter pulls me right out of my thoughts when he drops something into my lap. I blink at the piece of plastic, the size of a credit card. Another gift card? I cast him a questioning look as I pick it up. “What’s this for?”
“One of those family wing nights you told me about. Give it to your mom, she can use it to pay for dinner one night.”
“Why?” I demand, frowning at him. “Why do you keep buying me gift cards?”
His lips curve up in amusement. “I’ve bought you two, Ellis. It’s not exactly a habit.”
“Why?” I ask again.
Carter shrugs. “Why not? I have money and you don’t. Can’t I just do something nice for you? It costs me nothing.”
I lift my eyebrows, turning the card over and seeing $50 written in permanent marker on the back. “It costs you something. Between the two cards, you have given me $100. I’m startin’ to feel like a low-class hooker.”
“Except I’m not sleeping with you, so that doesn’t make much sense,” he points out. “I’m just doing something nice for you, that’s all. Relax.”
“Or you’re grooming me.”
He glances in my direction before turning his eyes back to the road. “Grooming you?”
I nod my head, clinging to my objections. “Sometimes when a predator has prey in his sights, he’ll give them gifts to soften them up, to endear himself to them or make himself appear harmless, like a friend. But it’s a trick, he’s lulling them into a false sense of safety so they start trusting the predator, that way the predator can take advantage of that trust and pounce on them when he’s ready.”
“You already know I’m not harmless, Zoey. I don’t think a few books and a belly full of chicken wings is gonna make you forget.”
“It won’t,” I assure him.
“All right,” he says, glancing at me as if to see if he’s supposed to care. “Then we’re in agreement. What’s the problem?”