Sophie & Carter Read Online Free PDF

on a chalkboard to me, “He got in, like, this totally crazy car accident a few years ago and almost died. But he managed to walk himself to a phone and call 911 for help. That’s how he got that huge scar on his arm.”
    Whitney’s nodding at me with big, sad eyes and I want to scream. She knows nothing.
    I watched that scar get placed on his body.
    It wasn’t from a car accident, it was from his father.
    It happened the August before our junior year of high school. I was doing dishes in the kitchen when I saw Carter’s dad swing a baseball bat at his mom.
    Carter had been working out that summer and had grown large and strong. He stepped in and grabbed—yes GRABBED—the baseball bat mid-swing. I immediately ran outside toward his house.
    I didn’t know what I was going to do but I certainly wasn’t going to just wash dishes while Carter got bloodied up by his dad.
    I reached his house, all the while looking in the kitchen window, and I saw his dad come at him with a butcher knife.
    I remember feeling numb all over. I was suffocating and stopped running. I watched in frozen silence as Carter’s body was slashed open and blood flew around the kitchen.
    I thought he was dead.
    Then I would be dead, too.
    But Carter stood up tall, grabbed his father (who was smaller in comparison at that point) and threw him against the wall. Carter punched him over and over again with his bloody hands.
    Carter was screaming and crying, his fury raining down in the form of fists and kicks and sweat and blood.
    I stood in their yard as Carter heaved his father’s pummeled body out onto the front porch. His dad was unconscious, but not dead.
    When Carter saw me he immediately began apologizing and stuttering and trying to wipe off the blood that kept pouring out of him.
    I did the only thing I could think of. I ran over to him, wrapped my arms around him and told him he was brave and right and wonderful. I think we both cried while his bloody arm stained my clothes and scared the crap out of me.
    THAT’S how Carter got his scar. I drove Carter to the hospital that night.
    I sat next to him while he got stitches.
    I made him dinner for the next two weeks because his arm was useless and his mom had lost her mind.
    I was there.
    NOT WHITNEY.
    Carter’s dad never came back after that night.
    I look at Whitney and fake my response. “Wow, really? Yeah, that’s brave.” I bite my cheek so I don’t strangle her.
    “Yeah, well, I really felt like we connected, you know? Like we totally clicked. So I don’t understand why he’s not calling me back, you know?”
    They so did not totally click.
    “Did he say he’d call you back?” I ask, looking innocent.
    I know the answer. Because, after all, I know him.
    “Well, no. He said he doesn’t ‘do’ relationships and that his life is too complicated for anything serious so I shouldn’t waste my time with him.”
    He always warns them.
    “Was that before or after you messed around with him?” Suck it, Whitney Morris.
    She thinks about it, “Well…I guess he said that before….”
    “Well, there’s your answer.” I snap. She doesn’t get my pity.
    “Well, excuse me. I didn’t know dating Evan Walters made you Queen of Relationships.” She’s trying to be snotty. It’s not going to work.
    I shrug and she gets up and leaves with a huff.
    I used to date a guy named Evan Walters. Evan is the guy every girl at school wants to date. He’s hot, he’s wealthy, he’s a football player. He’s every girl’s dream.
    Except mine.
    Evan isn’t a bad guy. He’s actually pretty nice, and not too stuck up. And I really did like him quite a bit. So much so, that I felt like I had to pretend I had a perfect home life just to maintain our relationship.
    Because Evan wouldn’t understand prostitution and drugs and poverty, so I could never trust him with the truth about my life.
    So we broke up. I wasn’t sad afterwards. I probably should have been, but I wasn’t. Unfortunately, now