Page 24 of Last Letters to Ara
Getting everything into the car is like a game of Tetris. I love my car to death, but it’s not very practical. By the time we load it all up, every inch of my Beetle is packed, with the last package of toilet paper winding up on my lap.
It makes a perfect table for my next task, using the scissors to cut little holes for our eyes, nose and mouth in each beanie.
Theo looks at me with mock terror. “Is this where you take me to an abandoned field, kill me, and wrap me up like a mummy?”
“If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t have gotten you a mask, too.” I roll my eyes but pause when I realize too late our next destination could upset him. “Do you trust me?”
Theo looks at me,reallylooks at me. His gaze reaches the depths of my soul, seeing everything I have to offer, good and bad. My fear that he won’t like what he finds settles as his eyes soften. “I do.”
I take a deep breath. “Then take us to your father’s house.”
Theo is dead silent, frozen in position long enough for me to start hating myself. He moves like a zombie and puts the car in drive, pulling onto the road without further question. This time, the car ride is silent except for the never-ending thoughts crowding into my mind.
I’ve known Theo for a month, hours really, and I’m currently asking him to drive face first into his trauma. Based on what? Some ridiculous notion that I could possibly know how to make him happy? What iswrongwith me?
I could have taken him for ice cream. Ice cream always makes people happy, but no, I had to force Theo to drive straight up to his house of goddamn horrors.
I’msuchan idiot.
Here I am again, making decisions that hurt others and hurt myself. The fear hooks into me and I begin to shut down.Thisis why I always second guess myself and don’t everdoanything. Rightfully, so.
I sigh, covering my face with my hands, ready to apologize and beg Theo to turn around, to forget all about this, when I feel his hand lightly grab one of mine, pulling it away from my face.
“You are literally the only person on Planet Earth, capable of getting me to go anywhere near this place. Yet, the million-dollar question still remains.” His slightly lighter, teasing tone frees some of the weight from my chest. “Why am I driving to my father’s house in the middle of the night, wearing all black, in a car full of toilet paper?”
I wait for it to sink in, as I try to kick toward the surface of my mind.
It finally clicks. “You want to TP my father’s house.”
There it is.
He looks at me and bursts into hysterical laughter. “Do you know who my father is?”
“A total douchebag?”
“Yes, that, too, but do you know what he does for a living?”
“The stalker tendencies are reserved for you, so no, I don’t know what your father does for a living. That would require knowing your last name, I suppose.”
“My last name is Carter.” He smirks, as if it’shisturn to watch something obvious sink in.
I rack my brain and come up empty. “I’ve got nothing.”
“Well, then look up to your left.”
A gigantic billboard looms across the road, plastered with some advertisement for that famous defense attorney, Bill Carter.
“Your father is that huge attorney, who is a known savage!?”
“The one and only,” he says grimly.
This idea is somehow seeming even worse than it did five minutes ago. The potential consequences begin to dawn on me. “We could be fined for trespassing! Or littering. Or vandalism!”
“Or worse.” Theo shrugs. “But it’s too late to chicken out now, we’re here.”
The view from my window makes me instantly feel sick, when I see we may as well have pulled up to the White House. His father is clearly loaded, the entire place (I wouldn’t call it a home) built from expensive white marble, carved into custom designs. It’s beautiful, and yet it does nothing but make me squirm.
“Finally see the appeal?” Theo asks in a dead voice.
