The Opposition

Chapter 38: Carter

Sadie Jones carries around guilt like it's her monogrammed Fairridge backpack.

Sadie Jones thinks she is the reason for her sister's death.

The good thing is, I've never had a problem with proving Sadie Jones wrong. Some might even say it's one of my favourite pastimes. And I will prove her wrong. But, now, she just needs someone who will be there for her. Who will listen, and slowly talk her out of going down a rabbit hole of guilt and self-resentment.

She's sleeping.

After crying–sobbing–on my shoulder, she just passed out. It's been a few hours, and we've almost entered my hometown. I sent a text to my family's group chat, telling them that I'm coming home with a friend. Tomorrow. Conner sent a thumbs up, as did my mom, but my dad has remained quiet. My messages about no longer working at the diner seem to have struck a nerve with him, and the only way I'm going to reason with him is in-person. Sadie thinks the we're going back to my house, but I've made a few alterations to my plan. Dave and Lisa's Diner is closed today since it's my great-grandma's birthday, and my parents took an hour drive to visit her. Usually the diner closes when both of my parents are unavailable, giving all of the employees an automatic day off.

So, I'm taking Sadie to the diner.

When she wakes up, she's going to look at me with those piercing hazel eyes, silently saying, Shut up, Conners. And I'm going to listen to her. Just like after our kiss in the rain, moments like these result in a silent understanding between the both of us. We don't mention it, but–silently–we're here for each other. Always.

Regardless of what Sadie believes I think, I know she loves her family. She loves her sister. But Sadie is all about self-preservation. Going to a school like Fairridge does that to you. You always have to have your best interest in mind. She thinks that makes her selfish. Hell, I bet lots of other people think that makes her selfish. But I know Sadie, and I would never fault her for living in a way that has been ingrained in her. And, knowing that her sister went to Fairridge too, I know Maddie wouldn't fault her for it either.

I feel Sadie stir beside me, just as the limo pulls into the parking lot of Dave and Lisa's Diner. She groggily lifts up her head, rubbing her eyes that were bloodshot just a few hours ago. When her eyes connect with mine, I see that look. The one I predicted.

"Morning, Sunshine," I tell her with a cheery voice, knowing it'll piss her off.

"It's not morning," her voice is ice-cold, but I see the gratitude in her eyes for not prying about her breakdown. Sadie's brain moves quickly–it's what makes verbally sparring with her so enticing–and I know she's already moved passed our conversation. She managed to save the voicemail, and now she's trying to bury her feelings. I'm not going to let her, seeing what it did to her the first time. But suggesting that she talk to the FP therapist is something I'm going to recommend at a better time.

"We're here," I tell her, opening the door of the parked limo. I let Sadie step out while I lower the screen separating us from the driver's seat so I can thank the driver.

When I step out of the limo with our bags and it pulls away, Sadie turns towards me with fire in her eyes. "This is not your house."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Jones."

"Why are we not at your house?" She asks.

"Awe, are you excited to meet my family? Ready to be introduced to them as my special girl?" I'm teasing her, but there's nothing that I would like more than to be able to introduce Sadie as my girl.

"Shut up, Conners. I'm merely pointing out the fact that you said we were going to your house."

"Tomorrow," I say.