I have a problem. A serious problem. Well, I probably have more than one, but let’s just focus on the problem I have right now, okay?

My problem has to do with staring. I stare a lot. Like, I’m-a-freak a lot. And generally, my staring problem centers around one person in particular.

“You’re doing that staring thing again.” Elodie lightly smacks me on the side of the head. “Stop it.”

I tear my gaze off Carter, rubbing my head. “Dude, that hurt.”

She grins, flipping her long, blonde hair off her shoulder. “Good. Maybe after a few more smacks, you’ll realize my brother’s a douchebag and finally move on to a guy who deserves your attention.”

Yeah, Elodie now knows about my crush. I managed to keep it a secret for a couple of years, but the girl’s a freakin’ ninja when it comes to wiggling secrets out of me. Seriously.

After catching me staring at her brother for too long one day, she managed to get the truth out of me in less than a minute. She wasn’t upset I was crushing on her twin brother like I thought she would be. She was pissed.

“No, no, no. Just no,” she said. “You can’t like him, Ens. You’re way too good for him.”

“I think you might be the only person on the planet who sees it like that.” I dared another glance across the cafeteria at Carter, who was sitting with his friends, laughing with someone, probably at the expense of someone else’s feelings.

She swatted me across the head then, too. Not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to startle the crap at me. It was the first time she’d done it, but definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Ow,” I whined, rubbing my head. “That was mean.”

“Well, someone needs to smack some sense into you.” She popped a fry into her mouth. “You need to get over this whole ‘I’m-a-loser thing.’ It makes me sad you can’t see how great you are.” Her gaze flicked in Carter’s direction, her lips twitching in irritation. “And I hate that my asshat of a brother is part of the reason your brain’s so messed up.”

“My brain isn’t messed up,” I argued, opening my soda. “I just know what I am and what I’m not.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so clueless sometimes.”

“And you’re mean.”

“You know, normally when people call me mean, I show them just how mean I am.” She popped her knuckles.

I rolled my eyes. Sure, Elodie had gotten into some fights, but I wasn’t afraid of her. She was my BFF, after all.

“Are you rolling your eyes at me?” she questioned, her lips threatening to turn upward.

I rolled my eyes again. “No, not at all.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Oh, fine, I won’t kick your ass.” She casted a glance in her brother’s direction again. “But I am going to smack you every time I catch you gawking at Carter.”

She’s made good on her threat, too. Obviously.

The person next to me slams their locker, jerking me out of memory lane.

“You know, I think I have a permanent goose egg from all the times you’ve smacked me.” I bump my locker shut while slinging my backpack over my shoulder, fighting the urge to glance down at the end of the hallway where Carter is chatting with his friends and flirting with half the girls in the Carter fan club. And no, I didn’t make that name up. People actually refer to the girls who follow Carter and his friends around as members of the Carter fan club. And Carter eats the attention up like yummy chocolate.

“He’s such an attention whore,” Elodie comments, knowing exactly where my thoughts are.

And just like that, I lose all control of my gaze again, my eyes wandering down the end of the hallway at Carter.

He’s wearing a black button-down shirt, topped with a vest, a red tie, a pair of jeans, and brand new sneakers. His blond hair hangs in his eyes and flips at his ears, and he has on that smile that can charm his way out of just about anything.

He looks good, which sucks, and might be the bane of my existence.

When he glances in my direction, a half smile tugs at his lips, his brows knitting.

Crap. I’m usually more careful about getting caught. I cringe, worried this will come back to bite me in the ass.

Jerking my gaze away, I focus back on Elodie. “Who’s an attention whore?” I feign dumb to avoid getting another head smack.

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one day you’re going to move on from this crush and Carter will just be a blip in your memory.”

She says that a lot, and while I want it to happen, I worry I might always be stuck with a crush I never should’ve had to begin with.

“Maybe he already is,” I lie as we make our way down the crowded hallway.

She snorts a laugh. “Sure he is. Just like I’ve moved on from chocolate, coffee, and shoes.” Her voice drips with sarcasm as she clicks the heels of her one-of-a-kind, lace-up boots together and pops a piece of chocolate into her mouth. “And I fully plan on picking up my second coffee of the day after school.”

I shake my head, but I can’t help smiling. “Fine. Maybe I’m not over him. That doesn’t mean I need a daily dose of him. I just like to look at him.”

“So, you just think he’s hot?”

“Yep, pretty much.”

“Well, that’s awfully shallow of you,” she teases.

I smirk at her. “Says the girl who had a crush on a drummer for three years straight because his mohawk was sexy.”

“Mohawks are sexy,” she insists, looping arms with me. “Way sexier than blond-haired, green-eyed, rich dicks.”

“You know you basically just described yourself, right?” I say with a joking smile. “Well, except for the dick part.”

She crooks a brow. “So, what’re you saying? That you think I’m hot?”

I come to a stop, step back, and eye her over. “I think you would be, if I was into girls.”

She grins. “Man, I so wish we both were. Then you and I could stop worrying about guys so much.”

“Yeah, but we might just end up worrying about girls instead.”

“Not if we dated each other.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’d be my type. You’re too bossy.”

She gives me a teasing, dirty look. “You know, I think my bitchiness is starting to wear off on you.”

“Did you just admit you’re a bitch?” I ask, knowing she won’t get mad since she totally admits this all the time.

“Who’s a bitch?” Carter asks, appearing seemingly from out of nowhere.

My comfort level that had been hovering at a solid eight all day plummets to a negative five thousand as he stands beside us in all his six-foot-four, lean muscles, glorious form.

Elodie offers him a sugary sweet smile. “You are. Or, didn’t you get the memo?”

Carter narrows his eyes at her. “You’re such a riot. Tell me, did you get that comeback off a jokes of the day website?”

“Ba dum dum tss.” Elodie pretends to air drum, then rolls her eyes. “Is that the best you got, pretty boy?”

He gives that grin, that fucking grin that I’m really starting to fucking hate. Or, well, wishing I could fucking hate.

Seriously, I’m so pathetic.

“Pretty boy?” Carter questions. “You must be going soft on me, El, if that’s the best you can come up with.”

“Are you implying that pretty boy isn’t an insult?” She crooks her brow.

Carter shrugs, but he looks a little irritated. “I don’t think there’s too much insulting about being called pretty.”

Elodie smirks, her gaze flicking to me.

I frown and mouth, “Don’t drag me into this again.”

When her grin only broadens, I know I’m in trouble.

“Hey, Ens, tell me again what pretty boy stands for.” She throws a quick smirk at her brother.

Carter looks at me for the first time since he walked up to us, as if he just noticed I’m standing there. Which is okay. I prefer that he not notice me too much, which he does occasionally, just like he did minutes ago.

“Come on; help me out here, Ens,” Elodie begs, motioning for me to get a move on.

I shoot her a nasty look, but play along because, when it all comes down to it, I’ll always take her side.

I tilt my chin up to meet Carter’s eyes, which is weird for two reasons. 1). I normally don’t look him directly in the eye. And 2). I’m five-foot-ten and usually don’t have to tip my head up to look at anyone.

“Some people consider the term”—I make air quotes—“ ‘pretty boy’ as an insult, not a compliment. It all just depends on if you mind being called pretty. Which, by definition, means you’re good-looking in a delicate, cute, dainty sort of way.” I shrug. “Some guys like being dainty, though, and that’s okay.” I’m being kind of mean, and I’m not a fan of my behavior. But, like I said, I’ll always have Elodie’s back, just like she’s always had mine.

Carter stares at me, his green eyes unreadable. Then his gaze bounces back and forth between Elodie and me. “So, definitely something you aren’t.”

Elodie kicks him in the shin, and no, I’m not kidding. “You’re such an asshole.”

Carter winces, bending over to rub his shin. “And you’re such a brat. Seriously, who kicks people in the shins?”

“I only kick people in the shins when they deserve it. And you definitely deserve it, you asshole,” she snaps. “You need to stop treating people you think are beneath you like shit.”

“I’m not saying this stuff because you’re beneath me,” he says. “I’m saying it because you’re my sister and you’re acting like a bitch to me, like you always do.”

“Yeah, so? I treat you like you deserve to be treated.” She glares at him as she snags ahold of my hand. “And Ens isn’t your sister, so you have no excuse with her.”

Before Carter can get another word in, she storms down the hallway away from him, dragging me along with her.

Crap. I love her to death, and I appreciate her defending my honor or whatever, but I wish she wouldn’t have brought me into that—put the attention on me.

I dare a glance over my shoulder as I jog to keep up with her. Carter is watching us walk away with his brows knit. He looks confused. I wonder why. Does he feel bad?

Ha, yeah right.

If I’ve learned anything about Carter over the years, it’s that he rarely feels bad.

“God, he’s such a bastard,” Elodie says as she yanks me around the corner of the hallway and Carter disappears out of my sight. “Seriously, sometimes I wonder if he was switched at birth or something.”

I don’t bother pointing out that Carter and her look too similar for that to be a possibility.

We remain quiet as she tugs me outside and around to the back of the school. Once she’s checked the area for any teachers lurking nearby, she retrieves a pack of cigarettes from her bag and lights up.

“One day, I’m going to get back at him,” she mutters as she paces in front of a dumpster. “One day, I’m going to make him feel what it’s like to get hurt. Not physically, but emotionally.”

She’s made this threat a few times, after Carter has done something worse than telling her she doesn’t look pretty. Usually, she doesn’t get this upset over his verbal insults, unless her mom has treated her like shit, too. So, maybe something happened this morning that I don’t know about.

“You don’t normally get this upset over the dumb shit Carter says,” I state, leaning against the brick wall. “Is everything okay?”

She takes a drag off her cigarette, her gaze wandering toward me. “I think I should be asking you if you’re okay.”

My brows dip. “Why?”

“Because of your you-think-you-look-like-a-guy issues.” She exhales a cloud of smoke. “An issue that was caused by my dumbass brother.”

So, that’s what this is about?

“I’m fine.” And I am. Over the years, I’ve been able to deal with ridicule better; gotten thicker skin or whatever.

She stops pacing and faces me with her cigarette in hand. “You know you’re pretty, right?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not, and I don’t need to be. I just need to accept who I am, which I have.”

“But you are,” she insists, stepping toward me. “You just can’t see it.”

Yeah, me and the rest of Fareland High. Thank God today is the last day I have to go to school here, since tomorrow is graduation. To say that I’m excited to move on from this phase in my life is an understatement. I just wish I could afford to go to college far, far away from here. But on the bright side, at least I’ll be with Elodie. Unfortunately, I think Carter and a lot of his friends chose to go to a local college, too. Damn Farefield for having a good college nearby.

“Look, El, I love you to death for saying that. I really do.” I push away from the wall and stand up straight. “But I learned a long time ago that it’s better not to worry about those things.”

She eyes me over with doubt, but thankfully drops the subject. “I meant what I said. One day, I’m going to figure out a way to make Carter experience all the heartache he’s caused.” She drops the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out with the heel of her boot. “And you’re going to help me.”

“Okay,” I agree, knowing she’ll probably never follow through with the threat. Even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.

I may have a crush on Carter, but deep down, I know he’s pretty much heartless. And you can’t break someone’s heart if they don’t have one.