#carter mcclean.

carter bites at the edge of her sleeve   (her mother had said she’d be here an hour ago but she wasn’t here and why wasn’t she here and had she died and maybe she just forgot about carter and--   the buzz of a cellphone,  an apology from her mother,  a promise that she’d be there in the next hour).   the library is closed now,    the shutters squeezed down.     ‘‘    excuse me,    ’’     carter said, quietly,  to the lone stranger outside the library,   @girlseventeen.  her voice is quiet enough to be swept up by an oncoming wind,  so she repeats herself,  this time a touch too loudly.     ‘‘   do you happen to have a quarter on you?   i’m carter.    i’ll give it you back,  i promise,  i’m just trying to trick the vending machine.     ’’ 

carter holds their body,   arms wrapping around their stomach,    fingers brushing against the harsh jut of her elbows.     a shiver keeps kissing at her spine:    they jumble themselves into their sweater,   which their mom had told them to bring   (she hadn’t wanted to,  not really,  but it had been shoved in her bag all the same   ...    carter doesn’t know whether to be grateful or angry:    another small sacrifice made in a mother’s honour).     ‘‘    that was super creepy,     ’’      carter half - laughs,  throwing a shy smile towards @slaughtyr.    the severing instinct   --   she doesn’t want to seem like a coward,   but she also doesn’t want to seem like a liar.    they stand outside the movie theater,  in the dull wash of its lights.     ‘‘    how many of those movies do you even watch?   you didn’t look like you jumped once!     ’’