Like I've said before, Carter and Mason are my happy place. This takes place freshman year, only a couple months since Carter transferred to Hamilton.

When you hit the word you might not know look to the comments, I put the definition there.

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Carter sat with her head on her desk and her arms draped over the sides. It was so quiet in the classroom she could hear the clock ticking over the whiteboard. She could hear the shuffling of papers as Ms. Woodson graded tests. She could hear the faint pulsing beat coming from her teacher's headphones. She could hear the breathing of the boy next to her.

"Could you be breathing any louder?" Carter said into the top of her desk.

"I'm breathing normally, Owens," Mason said.

Carter raised her head. "Really because it sounds like you have a lung problem you're so loud."

"Or maybe you're just attuned to my breathing because you want to know if I catch my breath when I look at you."

Propping her elbow on the desk, Carter rested her head in it, regarding Mason.

"I know that you've most likely seen hundreds of therapists, your father's attempts to understand the problem he calls a son, but have they deduced where these delusions stem from? Is there a cure or are you doomed to suffer from them for all your life?"

Mason scoffed. "You think I'm a problem? Owens, you've been at this school for three months and have yet to make a friend. That shows some serious issues."

Carter controlled her expression, keeping it blank, a tactic she'd quickly picked up at this school. She didn't need these self-important elites knowing how their taunts and judging glances got to her. She wouldn't let them get to her.

"Please," Carter mocked. "Do you even understand how obnoxious you all are with your 'I'm important because I simply happen to be related to someone important' act is? Seriously, it makes me so nauseous it's a wonder I manage to eat at all here."

"Ha ha, the girl who has no one important finds us all unimportant, wow never saw that one coming. You understand that's what therapists call a coping mechanism, right?"

"See I was right about the hundreds of therapists." She smiled encouragingly at him. "It's nice to know that some things can make an impact on you. Don't worry, I'm sure they will eventually help you solve your daddy issues."

Mason held her gaze but nothing in his face changed. Why would it, he was raised by a politician after all, hiding the truth was what they did best. But Carter knew this was a sore nerve, just like she knew calling him Mr. President pissed him off.

And it was why she did it whenever they crossed paths. Wasn't there a saying, fight fire with fire? Well, she was at Hamilton Prep now so she brought her flamethrower.

Mason turned his head away and Carter dropped her chin onto her crossed arms, grinning. At least she'd won that round.

"You know this is your fault that we're in detention," Mason said, clearly winding up for round two.

Carter straightened, mentally tugging on her boxing gloves.

"My fault? You were the one who wouldn't read the instructions on the project."

"I knew what I was doing."

"That makes sense, 'cause you were doing it all wrong!"

"No! I wasn't and if you had listened to me in the first place you would have seen that!"

"Who in their right mind would listen to you, you're an idiot!"

"I guess that would mean the school is full of idiots since they listen to me and not you."

"Yeah! It is!"

"HEY!"

Carter and Mason froze, not realizing when they'd stood up. Slowly, they looked to Ms. Woodson, she was staring at both of them.

"This," she said. "Is why you have detention. You constantly fight in my class and I'm tired of it. Now sit down and be quiet."

The stern voice coming from the soft-faced and smiley teacher made Carter and Mason sit without a word of protest or accusation. Carter sank down in her seat, laying on her arms and closing her eyes. As the clock ticked on and the tension gradually eased away, Carter's thoughts took a road she really didn't want to go down, needed not to go down. To avoid it, there was only one thing she could do: distract herself.

"Mason," she said, still keeping her eyes closed.

"What?"

"When's your appointment?"

There came a long pause and Carter fought her grin. In a world where she was at the bottom of the social ladder at least her mind elevated her above her peers. Finally, Mason broke.

"What appointment?" he asked, though she could tell by his tone he hated himself for asking.

"When's your lobotomy appointment? I want to mark it on my calendar as a day to celebrate."

Mason snorted. "I wouldn't call it a day to celebrate because it will be the same day everyone comes for you and demands you get one yourself. If I'm not here to match wits with you the world is doomed."

Carter grinned at him and he scowled as if trying to understand why his insult received this reaction.

"I believe there was a compliment in there."

"Only you would find a compliment where an insult was meant."

"What can I say," Carter said in a perky voice. "I'm an optimist."

"What you are is delusional."

"Takes one to know one."

Mason shook his head and slouched in his chair. Carter went back to pretending to sleep, happy with the outcome. Before either of them could find another way to verbally abuse the other, Ms. Woodson spoke.

"All right," she said. "The hour is up. I hope you've both come to realize how arguing never solves problems, only makes them. Come get your phones."

Neither of them spoke as they gathered their things, retrieved their phones, and left the classroom. The hallways were clear of students and Mason stopped at the classroom entrance to wait for Smith and avoid Carter. In turn, she quickened her steps to outstrip him. When the cold blast hit Carter, she swore and hugged her coat tighter around her. Snow whipped through the air, a late blizzard for the year.

Behind her, the doors opened and Mason walked out with Smith in tow. Mason eyed the stormy sky and shot Carter a smug grin.

"Enjoy your walk to the metro," he said.

Glaring, Carter hurried down the steps, needing to keep her blood warm with movement. Without the distraction of poking at Mason, Carter was left with the thoughts of her father and how he'd said he be home two days ago, but had been delayed. She jammed her fists into her coat pockets, trying not to feel the ache in her chest. But it was always there. When he left on a trip it grew until sometimes it felt like it would make her heart explode.

As Carter trudged down the sidewalk, a sleek Lincoln town car glided up alongside her. Carter didn't glance at it. She didn't want Mason to have the satisfaction of seeing her miserable. The back window rolled down.

"Owens, get in the car," Mason said.

"I'd rather freeze, thank you."

"See," Mason said. "I told you she didn't want a ride."

At this statement, Carter stopped and so did the car. The passenger side window lowered, showing Smith sitting there. His serious face was kind.

"Carter," he said. "Let us give you a ride home."

After a second's hesitation where flurries hit Carter in the face, she climbed into the back next to Mason. He eyed her like she was something they picked up off the side of the road. Which technically she was.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Georgetown," Carter said then rattled off the address.

The driver pulled back into traffic and Carter reveled in the warmth of the car's interior and the pine scent that filled it.

"It should be known I didn't approve of this plan," Mason said.

"I've never assumed you had a heart, Mason."

Carter delivered the comment but didn't deliver the mocking tone it should have been accompanied with. Once her mind had turned to her father it felt impossible not to think of him. Mason replied, but Carter didn't hear, her focus on the scenery outside, blurred by the snow.

"Is your dad going to be home tonight?" Carter asked.

"I don't know," Mason said. "It's not like it affects you and you don't have a heart either, so why should you care?"

Anger sparked in Carter and she swung around to face Mason.

"You understand that those people who are assigned to protect your father have families too, right? Or are you so self-centered that you didn't think about the fact that someone like Smith actually exists beyond the times you see him?"

"I'm not that self-absorbed, Owens. I just don't see why that would matter to..."

When Mason cut himself off, Carter turned her head away. Why she'd even asked was beyond her. A long silence expanded between them.

"Umm...your father?" Mason asked, hesitant.

Carter didn't answer but that was answer enough.

"My dad said he'd probably be home sometime today," Mason said.

Carter still didn't look at him. "Thanks."

"Yeah."

The rest of the drive was spent in uncertain silence. When they got close to Carter's house, she directed the driver to stop at the front of the lane, she could walk from there. As Carter opened the door, Mason spoke.

"This changes nothing between us," he said. "Just because I know what your dad does, doesn't mean I still don't loathe you."

Carter climbed out but poked her head back in. "Fine by me, I've planned to loathe you for the rest of my life."

"Works for me," Mason said. "So long, Owens. Make sure to slip on ice and break your neck for me."

"As long as you keep that lobotomy appointment then fine. I'll die knowing the world doesn't have to deal with your drivel any longer."

She shut the door and hurried off, but not too fast, it was icy. The apartment lay dark and empty when she stepped inside. The only positive was the fact that it was warm. Dumping her bag by the couch, Carter headed into her room. As she was changing from her uniform into sweats, the front door opened.

Carter froze, listening. When she heard the click of keys in the bowl, she yanked her hoodie down and raced from her room. Her father barely had time to register her presence before she threw her arms around his waist. He let out a warm chuckle, hugging her back.

"I take it you missed me," he said.

"What in the world would give you that impression, old man?"

Her father kissed the top of her head. "Did you stay out of trouble while I was gone, Sarge?"

Carter thought about Mason and detention and how without him there to keep her distracted from her fear and worry she might have done worse.

"Always, Captain."

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Heyo my pumpkin patch!

(Why do I feel like I've used that before? 🤔)

Go ahead and leave your detention slips and the reasons your here right here! 💬💭🗯

Like I said, Carter and Mason are my happy place. They are a blast to write and when I need something fun, I write them. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

That's all, that's all I got for this chapter. I don't think you really need more though.

Oh! I did post a really cute new short story in Short On Time, if you want something more than check it out.

If not then you know the procedure: veto, comet, pillow.

Haha it's Carter and Mason as puppies!