***********************

My heart stopped at his words, and my blood went cold with the silence that followed them. I didn't know what to say, mostly because I wasn't sure what happened, but I didn't want to ask. I know that I should probably feel scared being alone with Carter: his reputation proceeds him, and he just told me that his fathers death is his fault.

Yet, I'm not scared at all. Deep down, I knew that Carter wasn't capable of anything bad. Sure, he broke the law and partook in a few illicit activities, but he wasn't bad. That much I was absolutely sure of. So, when he said those words, ones that I knew took a lot for him to say, I didn't judge him, nor did I get up and leave him alone. I just stayed silent.

And, after a moment, he spoke again. "I played guitar growing up and preformed in coffee shops when I was still in middle school. By the time I reached high school, there were these group of guys that were in a band, and they knew about me. They invited me to a party when I was a freshman." Carter paused, his eyes flickering to me before abruptly turning back to the ceiling. "My dad told me not to go because I was too young. They were seniors in high school and I was only fifteen. But I waited for him to fall asleep that night and then snuck out to go to the party. I ended up getting way too drunk and calling my dad to come pick me up, because I couldn't even stand straight. He was pissed, but he came at three in the morning to come get me."

He stops again, and I feel my stomach churn when I see his pained expression. I gently put my hand on his as some form of comfort, and Carter flipped his hand to interlock our fingers.

His eyes squeeze shut before he speaks again. "A drunk driver hit him and made our car flip off the road into a ditch when we were going back home." A horrible feeling set in my stomach as he paused, letting the daunting silence torment him momentarily. "He died upon impact, but I only broke a few bones. My dad is dead because of me. Because I wanted to go to a party."

And right then, my heart broke for Carter. He genuinely blames himself for his fathers death. More importantly, from what I've heard- or rather, what Carter told me- about his dad, I could tell he looked up to him.

And thus, my heart broke even more. I sat up in the small bed and moved onto my knees, so I could face Carter. He was glaring at the ceiling with his jaw clenched and free hand balled into a fist by his side, trying to hide his sadness and anger with a hardened mask.

"Carter," I murmur, both of my hands pulling on his, trying to get him to look at me. "Look at me."

"I don't want to watch you pity me," Carter spits, almost as if by reflex.

I shake my head. "I don't pity you." Finally, he looks at me, his hazel eyes boring into my gaze. "I'm sorry that happened. But you can't blame yourself."

He immediately starts shaking his head, as if he can't even consider the possibility that it wasn't his fault. Carter sits up too, his legs swung over the side of the bed, his hands beside him on the bed. His back was tense and facing me, so I couldn't see his expression.

"I know it's my fault," Carter says roughly. "That's why I have nightmares every night about the crash. Because the fucking guilt eats away at me every day."

My heart cracked a little more at his words, and I felt my face fall. Right now, I felt like I had to do anything I could or say anything I could say to make Carter feel better. So, sitting behind him on the bed, watching his tense shoulders rise and fall, I decided that's exactly what I would do. Make him feel better.

I put my hands on his shoulders, and took pleasure when I felt him relax under my touch. I leaned forward and slid my hands to hug him from behind, my chin resting on his shoulder. Luckily, it was having the intended effect, because Carter relaxed almost instantaneously and his breathing was returning to normal.

"Carter, please look at me," I beg quietly, and when his head turns and his eyes meet mine, I say slowly and with absolute conviction, "You can't blame yourself, not for that. It could've happened in a different way. You can't live harboring guilt for something that isn't your fault." When I still see the hesitance in his expression, I murmur, "Carter, your dad wouldn't want you to blame yourself. It was his choice to come get you that night because he loved you. He would want you to be happy now."

His calculating gaze stares into my eyes, moving back and forth like he was trying to see whether or not to trust me. I stared back and held my breath, wondering if I was even capable of making Carter feel better.

"It's not your fault you don't want to pursue piano," He surprises me by countering.

The sudden shift shocked me initially, but I quickly realized it was Carter taking the attention off of himself, and what he had just told me. I didn't care, though, because he put his feet back on the bed and sat against the wall, making sure to grab my hand again when he was situated.

And, for once, I welcomed the subject of piano and my parents- two very taboo subjects, mind you- with open arms, because I knew changing the subject would make him feel better.

"I suppose," I say objectively.

Carter tugged on my hand and pulled me to sit beside him on the bed, leaning against him instead of the wall. I tilted my head to the side so it could rest on his shoulder, and he squeezed my hand.

"You said, you can't live your life harboring guilt for something that's not your fault," Carter uses my words against me with a smug look on his face. "And it's not your fault you don't want to pursue piano. So why do you feel obligated to please your parents, if it's not because of the guilt?"

I take it back. I could see the red flashing lights and sirens telling me that this was a danger zone, and I needed to abort the question.

I sit up straighter and mumble, "Weren't we just talking about you?"

Carter barks out a breathy laugh. "I showed you mine, sweetheart." He glances at me with a bitter smirk. "Now it's time to show me yours."

I took a deep breath and looked at the wall of the cabin, barely distinguishable in the dark room. "I don't know," I admit. "I guess I'm scared."

"Scared?" He almost scoffs. "You don't get scared. You told Marcus that you hung your bras on the flagpole as a practical joke."

I look at him sheepishly and excuse, "That was different."

Carter looks at me thoughtfully before he nods, asking carefully, "Why are you scared?"

"I guess because of how my parents react when I tell them that I hate their plan for me," I reveal. "But mostly because I'm scared that I won't be good at anything else."

Carter looks at me incrediously. "Why the hell do you think you won't be good at anything else?"

I look away again and shrug. "That's what my parents told me. I always thought they were just obsessed with me playing piano, but what if they're right? And I really don't have any other skills? And I waste the only thing I'm good at?"

Unfortunately, my rambling was coming on full force, thanks to my nerves. My face flushes when I realize I'm trusting Carter with my biggest fear yet: my future.

"Amelia, that's bullshit," Carter replies suddenly, surprising me yet again with his rough works. I look up at him to see his intense gaze on me again. "You're one of the smartest girls I know. Hell, I still can't figure out how you got all that shaving cream in my bed." His eyes twinkle with a little amusement before he adds, "Plus, if all else fails, you can always fall back on your looks. You're a beautiful girl, and I know some rich men would be pleased to marry you."

My cheeks tinge pink from his words, but I feel a smile tug at my lips. I still didn't know what I wanted to do, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Because Carter had me believing that I could do whatever I wanted, and for some reason, that comforted me.

"Some intense pillow talk, huh?" I laugh breathily in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Carter laughs too. "Don't all couples bear their souls to each other in a dark cabin in the middle of the woods?"

My counter remark died on my tongue when I heard Carter say 'couple'. My heart skipped a beat in my chest, and I felt my insides warm up. Clearly he hadn't actually meant it like that, considering we were restricted to a summer fling, but it still made me happy.

I could only laugh again, too dazed at first to say anything, before I murmur, "It's protocol."

Carter chuckles too, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head. "Go to sleep, princess. It's late."

My eyelids felt heavy as he says these words, so I easily comply. Apparently, baring your soul takes a lot out of you. We lay back down in the bed, my head against his chest, his arm around me, and I slide my eyes shut. I felt absolutely content in his arms, and felt myself slipping into a pocket of sleep with a smile on my lips.

"Goodnight Carter," I murmur tiredly.

"Sweet dreams, beautiful," Carter murmurs back, his whispered words the last I hear before I finally submit to sleep.

+ + +

Not having piano practice had its perks. Actually, it really just had one perk: sleep. I was able to sleep in when I didn't have practice, and sleep is very, very important to me. That's why, when I felt myself slowly waking up in the morning, I was already in a good mood because it wasn't from my alarm.

I slowly stretched out and quietly groaned, my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I noticed was my hand touching a chest when I was stretching, and the next was the sleepy pair of hazel eyes watching me in amusement. I smiled tiredly at Carter and set my head back down on the pillow.

"Good morning sunshine," Carter smirks. "Groping me this early?"

He's referring to my hand, of course, that was still placed on his very toned chest. I swear, this boy had the body of a Greek God with his toned shoulders and abs. Naturally, I took advantage of his shirtlessness, and touched his abs. Is that such a crime?

Sleepily, I mumble, "Isn't that a part of the deal? We can grope each other when we want?"

He chuckles, his chest moving under my hand. "I'm going to remember that."

With that, his hand slid to my backside, and gave it a squeeze. I was far too tired to complain, considering I had just said he could do exactly that, and just continued lying down. It was weird, falling asleep and waking up to Carter. But it wasn't weird because it felt strange and new. It was weird because it felt natural.

Carter's arm moves to my waist and pulls me closer to him, so my head now rests in the crook of his neck. I snuggled closer, reveling in the fact we were cuddling in bed. I mean, who knew the bad boy of the camp, the one that was sent here instead of Juvie, would be cuddling me this morning?

"Did you sleep well?" I murmur into his neck.

"No nightmare," Carter confirmed, and I could hear a hint of a smile on his lips. "But you do snore pretty loudly."

My smile dropped and eyes went wide in shock, horror, and dismay. "I do not snore!"

I shot up in bed to look at him, my cheeks blazing, as he just lies back and laughs. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to decide whether he was kidding or not, but when he doesn't stop laughing, I get my answer.

I hit him on the chest and mutter, "You're such a prick."

Carter's laughter dies down and he reaches out for me. "Aw, come on babe, don't be embarrassed. Everyone snores." As an afterthought, he grins wickedly. "Just not as loud as you."

When he sees my face heat up even more, he roars in laughter, his head falling back onto the pillow. To my absolute annoyance, I found myself wanting to laugh with him, happy that he was in such a good mood. But I kept my poker face on and swatted at him again.

"I'm not sleeping with you tonight," I threaten, but we both know it's an empty threat.

Carter stops laughing long enough to smirk. "Woah there princess, you're moving a little fast. At least buy me dinner first."

At the mention of food, all of my annoyance diminished.

"I'm leaving to go get food," I announce.

However, when I start to crawl off of the bed, Carter's hands shoot out and grab my waist. Swiftly, before I can blink, he pulls me on top of him so my legs are on either side of him and I'm straddling him, my face inches from his.

He smirks at our compromising new position, mocking, "You're not going anywhere."

Childishly, I pout at him and whine, "But Carter, I want to eat."

"Don't you want me more?" He asks innocently.

I pretend to think about it, looking thoughtful for a few moments before my expression drops and I say point blank, "No."

He looks genuinely shocked at having been turned down and asks curiously, "Why not?"

I shrug. "My hunger and morning breath."

Carter nods thoughtfully but still sighs heavily before announcing, "You wound me, princess. I guess I'll bring you to breakfast then."

I grin widely as he gets out of bed and we head to the dining hall. We were both still in our pajamas, but no one noticed us leave the cabin together. I walked happily to the dining hall, and Carter trailed behind me, trudging tiredly through the camp grounds.

Right before we walked in the cafeteria, Carter's hand grabbed mine, and he pulled me back to him. I looked at him in confusion, but he just used his free hand to grab my head and pull my lips to his. He kissed me hard for a few seconds before he pulls away and shoots me a boyish grin.

"One for good luck," Carter excuses cheekily.

I grinned in amusement and shook my head. "Come on, Miller."

I pull him into the dining hall and immediately blaze the way to the food. It's pretty full in here, and I glance around to see Poppy eating with the twins at our normal table. When we reach the breakfast spread, I let go of Carter's hand and grabbed a plate, then proceeded to dish myself out eggs, bacon, toast, and home fries.

"When you said you ate a hundred pounds of nachos I thought you were kidding," Carter mocks lowly behind me with a boyish grin. "I think I need to reconsider."

I grin at him and chirp, "I like food, what can I say?"

He chuckles as I walk away with my plate to get a glass of water. Then I make my way over to my table, and when Poppy sees me approaching, her eyes narrow.

"Hey Mina," She drawls in a sickly sweet voice, leaning toward me.

I smile sheepishly. I knew what she was doing. I didn't talk to her yesterday to tell her where I was, and probably will continue, sleeping. I sit down and glance at the twins, making sure they were in their own conversation.

I turn back to Poppy and lean in, lowering my voice. "I'm sorry. I'll explain later, I was with Carter."

Her accusatory gaze turned into a smug smirk when she hears this, and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. My face already started to heat up, and I shook my head at her.

"It's not like that," I excuse lamely.

She keeps smirking. "Sure."

"Poppy," I whine childishly, but her smirk just gets bigger.

"Hey Mina," James suddenly pulls himself out of his conversation to momentarily grin at me. "Good morning."

I smile at him. "Morning, guys."

"What'd you do last night? I didn't see you at Cabin 14," Justin inquires innocently, but his eyes were amused.

My smile dropped and I narrowed my eyes at him. He was just like Poppy.

"None of your business," Carter says casually as he slides into the seat beside me with a plate equally as full as mine.

The twins both snicker and Poppy smirks at me, but I choose to ignore them. I guess it was obvious by now that Carter and I were... well, what were we? From what we established, we were a strictly summer fling. No commitment once camp was over. It was easier that way, considering I was previously positive that I wasn't ready for any type of real relationship after things with Jake ended.

But I glanced at Carter and he caught my gaze, giving me a quick grin before James asked him if he wanted to play football later. And the grin made my heart beat quicker, and I realized that this had turned into something more, for me at least. Sometime between the pranks and the sleepovers, I started to like Carter too much. That much was clear now.

The realization hit me like a blow to the stomach: my eyes widened, my lips parted in shock, and I felt my head begin to spin. It was like the way his smile made me feel made me realize how I truly felt. It was that way when I was in love with Jake: he would do the smallest gesture and my heart would practically jump out of my chest. But things were different than Jake, too. Everything was more intense. More passionate.

Back the fuck up, my mind practically shout at me. Did I just say love?

I glance at Carter again and catch him as he laughs at something the twins said. I didn't love him, not yet at least, but I knew the truth: I was falling for him. It was deeper than a physical attraction. The way he made me feel, like I was in charge of my own life and could do whatever I wanted, made me feel different than I've ever felt before. For once, I believed it.

"Not that I mind you staring at me like you want to rip my clothes off," Carter whispers, bringing me back to reality. "But I did get rejected from you this morning for this food. So eat up, princess."

His closeness alone made my heart skip a beat, and chills crawled down my spine from his warm breath on my ear. I blushed lightly when he called me out on staring at him, and gently pushed his arm. He chuckled and wrapped the arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him on the bench.

As I ate breakfast, I couldn't focus on the conversation going on at the table, or even the looks that Poppy was shooting me. I was too busy trapped in my own mind, thinking about the boy with his arm wrapped around me, and the fact I'm supposed to leave for my Juilliard audition in a week.