never felt a feeling of comfort
all this time, i've been hiding

Aurora Holland

"You know, you keep saying that you're not trying to seduce me, but not once have I accused you of doing so." I snapped at the boy.

Of course, due to our height difference, I had to basically snap my neck to look up at him, and I did my best to ignore the feeling of his arms on me. He was still holding onto me, despite having already basically decided for me.

Looking down, I noticed our bodies were almost touching. I cleared my throat loudly, causing him to take his hands away and take a few steps back.

"You just look at me like I am," He countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm just looking at you, that doesn't mean I'm accusing you of anything." I dropped my hands to my sides. "What, you expect all the girls to look at you that way?" Wow, that didn't make sense.

"What? No." He said, "I'm not that cocky."

"Well, it seems like you are," I said, sending him a look.

Usually, I'm not this confident - and even then, calling this confidence would be an understatement. I'm not used to talking to boys this way, as I usually find myself struggling to form a full sentence and stuttering over my words.

But for some reason, I find myself having certain moments where I can talk to Carter as if we'd been friends for a while. Which is delusional on my part considering we only met a few hours ago.

"Who's assuming now?" He asked. His eyes then trailed to my body - yet again - and he let out a deep breath before turning away from me.

I stood in front of the door and watched as he walked over to a giant dresser on the other wall in the room. He sifted through a couple of drawers before pulling a couple of items out. They stayed neatly folded in his hands as he walked through a door and turned a light on.

He came back only a few moments later - his hands empty. "Clothes are in there, I set a washcloth on the sink as well. Use soap if you need to get the stickiness off."

"You- you want me to what?" I asked, very stupidly.

He rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time tonight, "There are some sweats and a t-shirt on the sink. Wipe the alcohol off and change. I can wash your clothes for you."

"Well, I don't think you'll need to wash my cl-"

"Rory, you're going to be here a while." Carter cut me off, "Elijah took Paige to one of our guest rooms, and I think you know where that goes."

"My name's not Rory," I said, ignoring the part about Paige. "It's Aurora."

"You haven't corrected me before?" He made it sound like a question, "Only Logan has, but Logan's a very jealous person."

"Well, he's right," I muttered.

"Rory, please. Just go clean off before you get alcohol all over my carpet. It's new." Carter motioned a hand to the still leaking notepad.

I held it against me again, sighing. I gave up, walking past him and into the bathroom.

After I shut the door behind me, I took a moment to take in the bathroom. It was very modern, and oddly enough matched the bedroom perfectly. It was black and white - a lot like the bedroom. The white parts were marbled, with streaks of black running through the countertops. The light made it look brighter than it was, and I noticed that everything was organized perfectly.

Everything had its own little spot, from the body wash to the loofah. It was nice. My mother would absolutely love how organized this bathroom is.

Remembering what I was supposed to be doing, I set the notepad on the sink and grabbed the black washcloth Carter set out for me. I got it wet with warm water, beginning to wipe off all of the skin that was showing.

When I wiped it to the best of my abilities, I discarded my clothes and did another wipe-down. I even wiped where my clothing sat, where the alcohol had seeped through to my skin. After getting myself wiped as best as I could without having to shower, I grabbed the shirt Carter had.

It was a grey shirt, one with giant letters that said RHS. I assume it stands for Riverway High School, but I could be wrong. I slipped it on, the shirt fitting quite nicely. It was slightly baggy, but not too baggy and it wasn't tight. I hated that you could see my boobs through them as I wasn't wearing a bra, and it was more noticeable than it was with the top I was wearing.

Surely nobody would notice, right? Maybe they'll be more focused on the fact that I'm wearing sweats and a T-shirt instead of party clothes, so they won't even notice?

Oh man, what a life I live being delusional.

I slipped the sweats on next. They were super baggy, as since Carter was much taller than me they kind of bunched up at the ankles. Thankfully, the sweats came with a tie so I could tighten the waistband, preventing them from slipping off.

As soon as I was changed, I grabbed my clothes off of the sink and opened the bathroom door. My eyes immediately darted around the room for the boy who lent me the clothes, and I found him sitting on his bed.

He was on his phone, scrolling through what looked to be Instagram. His attention immediately shot to me, his eyes raking from my feet to my head. I'd yet to put my shoes on, so I was just wearing the plain black socks I put on before the party.

Standing from his spot on the bed, he walked over to me. "I'll take the clothes and put them in the washer now, along with that washcloth." He explained, holding his hand out.

I handed him the clothing, ignoring the butterflies swarming in my tummy as our fingers brushed together. I stood there awkwardly as he walked away, a blush creeping its way onto my cheeks. 

It was weird, standing in his bedroom all alone. He'd left to go throw my clothes in the washer, despite the fact I told him he didn't have to. For someone who's described as 'untouchable' - and I mean with both of the Jackson brothers - they're both going way out of their way to talk to me.

Not only am I shocked because of the things Paige told me, but also because it's wild that the first two guys to genuinely pay any attention to me whatsoever also happen to be the most popular guys in the school.

I began to walk around Carter's room, taking in the smaller details. It's crazy how people can be so open to letting just anyone and everyone in their bedroom.

Your bedroom is the most personal place you could have. It has all of your belongings; clothes, shoes, books, and bedding. It shows who you are and the things you like. It shows the colors you're into, the bands you listen to, and the hobbies you have.

Carter's bedroom was a lot like his bathroom. Very minimalistic, yet it had items to show he had some type of personality. All of the posters hung along the walls were hung up to perfection, none of them even being slightly crooked. His clothes that hung in the closet were hung perfectly, organized in his own little way. The shoes were aligned along the wall in the walk-in closet, and although I couldn't see it perfectly as I wasn't inside, I got a good preview.

Even the items on his desk were organized. Each pencil had its own home, the laptop sitting on the top perfectly aligned with the sides of the desk. His black backpack was hung on a nearby hook, along with a leather jacket.

The bed was neatly made, the blankets and sheets all black. Despite the fact he'd been sitting on it, you couldn't tell.

He had a few skateboards lined up along one of the walls, all with different designs. I ran my finger along the top of one, ignoring the prick of the rough texture.

"You skate?" The sound of a voice asked, causing me to jump back. My hand shot away as if I'd burned myself, and I held onto it with my other hand as I looked at Carter with wide eyes. He then motioned to the skateboards, "You're touching them. Do you skate?"

"Oh, n-no." I stuttered out, rubbing my hands together nervously. I played with the rings on my fingers, feeling the need to do anything to keep my mind busy. "I've never been taught," I added.

"It's actually quite easy," Carter spoke as he walked over to me. His hands were in his pockets, and he took them out to pick up one of the skateboards. "I've been doing it since I was like ten."

"That explains why you think it's so easy," I remarked, playfully rolling my eyes.

"If ten-year-old me can learn, I'm sure that you can." He told me. "Have you ever tried before?"

"No, I don't own a skateboard and it's not anything Paige has ever been into." I answered, "And my little brother would die before letting me use anything of his."

"You have a little brother?" He asked, setting the board back down just as it sat before.

"Yep. He's in the sixth grade," I said. "My mother's pride and joy."

"Ah. The favorite of the family, I take it?" He asked.

"My mother's favorite," I told him, "My dad tries to treat us fairly but it's hard when..." I trailed, motioning a hand in the air.

I don't know why I'm talking to him about something as personal as my family life, but I can't say I don't like it. It's hard to talk to Paige about certain things, such as the way my mother favors my little brother.

She's an only child. She can say she understands, she can say she gets it, but she doesn't. She's favored by both of her parents, and there's never any need to feel like she needs to compete for attention. She doesn't feel ignored or that she needs to try harder to impress her parents. Her parents love and take her as she is, without comparing her to anyone.

"I get it," He said.

Part of me wanted to ask him about his life with Logan. The way he said he got it made me begin to think that Logan was the favored one, but then I remembered that this was Carter Jackson. He was supposedly the untouchable one, the one nobody knows much about.

I nodded, not responding. It grew silent between us as we stood in the middle of his room, and I found myself torn between running out and sitting down. I don't know if he expects me to stay in here while I wait on my clothes or leave, but I know for certain I don't want to go down to the raging party downstairs.

Plus, Paige would probably be occupied with Elijah for a while. I might as well get comfy.

"Do- is there a room I can wait in, or something?" I asked before thinking it through, my cheeks redding at Carter's confused expression. "I just figured-"

"That I wanted you gone?" He cut me off. My mouth clamped shut at the response, twirling the ring faster than I had been before.

I sheepishly slouched where I stood, feeling nervous all of a sudden. What is wrong with me?

One second I'm completely fine, having a full-blown conversation with the boy, and the next I'm basically shaking where I stand. It's like my body doesn't know whether to open up and be more like Paige or to cower down and be the way I've always been.

Afraid.

"I just assumed you could wait in here, considering most rooms are going to be occupied." He shrugged, walking over to his bed. He sat down before continuing, "The only rooms that usually go untouched during Logan's ragers are his room, my room, and our parents'. So if you want to risk someone walking in and messing with you, or even just walking in thinking the room is unoccupied, go ahead."

The idea of someone taking advantage of me was enough to make me walk over and sit down at his desk. That's always been one of my fears. I see it all the time on social media, TV, and movies. Obviously, it's not always like the media makes it out to be, but it happens more often than we think.

And Lord knows I'm not fit to handle a situation like that. I can barely handle standing in a crowded room with drunk teenagers.

My eyes stared down at my hands sitting in my lap, feeling uncomfortable. I didn't know what to say to him, or whether to just stay silent. Carter scrolled on his phone again, seeming fine with the awkward silence.

My phone was currently sitting in my purse on the bathroom sink, but I was almost too afraid to stand up and go get it as I didn't want him to look at me while I walked.

"What type of movies are you into?" Carter asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, seeing he ditched his phone. It was laying screen down on his bed, although I could hear it continuously vibrating. 

"Um, romance," I admitted. How cliche is it I admit to the first boy I have a full conversation with that I love romance movies?

"Romance?" He asked, "I didn't take you as the type."

"Oh yeah? What type did you take me as?" I asked, leaning back in the desk chair.

"Aren't most girls into like- I don't know, horror? True crime?" He questioned.

"Most, I guess." I shrugged, "True crime is very interesting, but I know if I get too much into it I'll fear for my life. I already fear way too many things, so adding an intruder breaking in and murdering me would not be good. And with the horror, I just never really feel safe watching them."

"What are you afraid of?" Carter then asked.

"What, is this twenty questions or something?" I felt awkward being put on the spot like this, and my face hadn't cooled down since the conversation began. I twirled the ring on my pointer finger nervously, ignoring the raw feeling it gave me.

"You got something better to do? Your little notepad's destroyed, and you're just sitting there like a child who just got in trouble. Might as well get to know the girl sitting in my bedroom." Carter responded.

"I'm only sitting in here because you invited me to," I said.

"Well, by all means-" He waved a hand toward the door, "Go ahead and leave."

I didn't move, and he just smirked. "Thought so," He said. "Now, what are you afraid of, Rory?"

The way my name left his lips caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and I found myself basically squirming in my seat. I ignored it to the best of my abilities, focusing on the question at hand.

"Everything,"

++

Who's your favorite character so far?