11. ▹ I WAS BORED AND YOU WERE THERE

CARTER'S EYES REMAINED WIDE OPEN and full of shock as his lips moved slowly and unsurely against Jackson's. Am I actually kissing Jackson right now? Carter thought to himself. Wait, did I kiss him or did he kiss me? Am I even wearing chapstick? Jackson's eyes snapped open and he suddenly pulled away from Carter's touch with a deep red blush scattered across his features, almost as if he'd burned himself.

       "I— I'm sorry," Jackson rushed in a panicked tone. Carter shook his head, reaching out and grabbing Jackson's hands in his own comfortingly.

"Don't be." Carter reassured. "It's... It's okay." He said. Jackson's eyes widened when he realized he was holding hands with Carter. Suddenly, Jackson snatched his hands away from Carter's, jumping away from him as if he was infected with a deadly contagious disease. Carter was startled for a moment by Jackson's actions, before he cocked his head to the side. "Jackson?" He asked, slightly confused and slightly hurt by his sudden harsh actions. Jackson shook his head quickly.

       "I think you should go home." Jackson said sternly, his eyes darkening. Carter sighed and cocked his head to the side.

"Jackson, look—"

"No." Jackson quickly interrupted. "Just go. I made a mistake, I'm sorry. Now, go." Jackson snapped bitterly towards the boy. Carter's brows furrowed in confusion, his arms crossing against his chest as he scoffed.

"But you said—"

"Yeah, I know what I fucking said." Jackson snapped between clenched teeth. "I was confused. I made a mistake. I was feeling lonely and you were there." Carter's chest tightened in pain from his words.

       "You just came out to me five minutes ago and now you're kicking me out and telling me it's not true?" Carter questioned angrily in an accusing tone of voice. Jackson scoffed, gulping down a painful log that was forming in his throat.

       "I didn't come out. I told you, I was lonely and confused for a moment. I'm not gay. I like women. Which means I don't like you. I'm not one of your kind." Jackson snapped. Carter scrunched his nose in anger, standing up and walking towards the door.

       "One of my kind?" Carter repeated angrily. He was fuming, he couldn't believe all the bullshit coming out of Jackson's mouth. "You're a bloody dickhead, Jackson. Stop lying to yourself and to others already. Get your shit together." He snapped, reaching out to the front door.

     "I'm not lying to myself or to anyone." Jackson retorted matter-of-factly. "I know what I like and I know what I want, and trust me, it's not you." Jackson seethed. Carter rolled his eyes and twisted the doorknob in his hand, stepping outside and turning back to glare daggers at Jackson. Oh, if looks could kill...

     "Hope you feel better soon, jackass." Carter spat before he slammed the door shut and stomped out of the house and past the gates, rushing down the path and into the alley. Jackson's heart ached painfully as he watched Carter through his bedroom windows as he walked down the alley and disappeared behind a wall. Tears pricked at Jackson's eyes and a thick log formed in his throat that made his nose burn with the need to let out his sobs.
He pulled his curtains shut and pulled his covers off the bed after shutting the bedroom door and turning off the lights, crawling into the bed and burying himself in the covers. He shut his eyes tightly as his head rested against the comfortable pillows, tears escaping his eyes and running down his face as he tried to hold back his sobs.

     "I'm not gay..." Jackson whispered to himself between sobs, his brain raking through every memory he had of his past girlfriends. He felt nothing as he thought of them, and only feeling homesick as he thought of Lydia Martin, the strawberry-blonde banshee he'd left behind in Beacon Hills, yet there were no feelings of attraction. He then allowed himself to think of Carter and the kiss they'd shared mere minutes before, his heart flipping as butterflies flapped in his stomach.