Yikes.
“Is it always like that?” We enter the Sedan, and Carly buckles into the passenger’s side.
“Not always,” she responds, rubbing the ring on her finger. “Bailey—my cousin—and I used to be really close. But college happened, she started dating this guy, her attitude…” She trails off, probably not wanting to speak more on it. “It went downhill.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, but I’m really itching to say more. That I know how she feels because that’s the same shit I’ve been goingthrough for the past four years, and how she’s braver than I for facing it head-on.
But I don’t say that—instead, I turn the engine on and drive out of my parking spot and away from her apartment, Finneas’ “Someone Else’s Star” starts up.
“You didn’t do anything,” Carly softly says. I take that moment to glance at her closed eyes and her arms crossed over her dress, which she never changed out of. A dress that should be illegal, with how beautiful it makes Carly look.
Sure, I know how pretty Carly is daily—I’d be blind not to notice—but this is on a whole other fucking level.
“All you did was listen.”
I already feel like I committed a crime. I judged her when I first met Carly, and now, as I spend more time with her, I sense how much depth there is to the normally bubbly girl in my car. I assumed the worst because she wanted to pursue a career that I avoid at all costs.
All that prejudice? It ends now. Even if I’m hesitant around someone, it won’t be with Carly Ryder.
Starting now, it’ll be different.
Today? If she needs someone to listen to her, then that’s my job. I’ll listen to whatever she needs to release. Any rant, any complaint.
I’ll listen to it all.
14
Sneaking Around
Carly
I’m fairly certain that if my middle name weren’t Josephine, it would be Spontaneity. That runs in my blood. However, I do have exceptions to spontaneity, such as breaking and entering.
No go.
“Are you sure we should be here?” I ask as Crew looks through the small window installed in the metal door. “This place looks closed.”
“It usually is,” he answers.
“Very helpful,” I mumble.For fuck’s sake, Movie Star.
“But,” he continues. “There’s always staff looking over the animals. It’s closed to visitors on Sundays but open to everyone who works here.” Crew holds out a card and swipes it against the reader. It lights up green and the door unlocks itself, allowing Crew to turn the knob and step inside.
“Working with the animals,” I mutter, following him inside. This must explain why I almost always see his hair wet. Considering he is a marine bio major, I’m not surprised.
I’m also not complaining in the slightest.
Crew leads me towards a hall and towards another gray, metal door. After utilizing his key card once again, the door opens, and we’re inside, surrounded by everything.
This is absolutely marvelous.
“You work here?” I marvel at the large jellyfish tank. I swear I’m looking at a kaleidoscope because of how colorful everything is.
“I intern here,” he corrects. “Mostly with the dolphins, but I’m not allowed up there without my supervisor or someone higher up.”
I nod, watching the jellyfish swim horizontally. Diagonally? I tilt my head to watch.
“This isn’t the same as staring at the sunset at East Pointe—”
