"So I have made the decision to trust you,"
"A horrible decision really,"
After dinner - spicy tomato soup with homemade bread - Mr Williams insisted on talking to Mom in the kitchen while me and Carter 'hung out' in my room. By 'hung out', I mean we argued for a half hour until he relented and we watched Rapunzel from the beginning (because he had turned it off downstairs).
"So, what's it about again?" he asked while I was fast forwarding through Pixar adverts.
"Watch it and you'll find out because I'm not explaining it again," I huffed. He rolled his eyes and leaned back into all my cushions. "Don't go spreading your terrible odor on my stuff!" I squealed, pausing the adverts and pushing him off my Disney pillows.
"I'm wearing deodorant!" he protested from the floor.
"Which is the exact foul odor I'm talking about!" I continued to fast forward through yet another advert. Carter dusted himself off and sat back on my bed, keeping a respectable distance from my pillows and Stitch teddies.
"It's Axe, Friday. It doesn't smell bad," he said in an almost whiny voice.
"No, it smells repulsive,"
"You girls don't like Axe?" I shook my head vigorously.
"It's a foul stench that you males leave everywhere! All I can say is thank god for Lynx!" He laughed and the play menu popped up. I pressed play and got up to turn off the light.
"Leave it on," Carter mumbled, listening to Flynn Rider telling us about the magic golden flower and the sick queen.
"Afraid of the dark?"
"So what if I am?"
"Nothing," I returned to my place on my comfortable bed and we watched the movie in silence.
"Really? She uses a frying pan to knock him out?" We were discussing his favorite bits of the movie while eating a huge bag of chips.
"Do you really think Disney would make her use a knife or a baseball bat when little kids watch this?" I argued.
"Fair point," he paused. "So, are you related to Walt Disney or-"
"No, I am not related to Walt fucking Disney. Just because we share a last name doesn't mean we are related!" I threw my hands up in the air, making Carter laugh.
"Okay, got it. So, how many Disney movies have you got?"
"A lot," I pointed to my bookcase which only has Disney movies on it (in alphabetical order, of course).
"Holy shit," he murmured, getting up and going to browse. Then I noticed that his eyes weren't on my bookcase, but on my desk. Specifically, on a picture of me that my friend Hilary took. He reached out and picked it up. It was taken when I was almost fifteen, a year after my dad died (yes, my dad died on my birthday, which is also Valentine's Day).
"Is this you?" he asked, showing me the horrendous snap. I nodded. "Wow, your hair's so long now," he observed. I nodded. In the picture, my hair was around shoulder length, and I was wearing Dad's old Batman Tee. I was also wearing his Doc Martins, but you couldn't see them in the photo because it cut off at my stomach.
"It was taken almost a year after my dad died," I whispered. Carter put the frame back and flopped onto my bed again.
"Don't be. It wasn't your fault - hell, you probably didn't even know I existed," I joked. He chuckled.
"You're a weird girl, you know that, right?"