*This chapter contains multimedia relevant to the plot.*

Johnny was sitting at his desk, by the window, when the door to his bedroom swung all the way open. He looked over his shoulder to see Lydia letting herself in and taking a seat on his bed comfortably.

"I didn't hear you knock," he mused.

"Because I didn't."

No shit, Johnny thought. He turned around in his office chair to look at his sister. She always came into his room when she wanted attention, and the only way to get her to leave was giving her some.

"I want to show you something," she said with a pleased smile.

Johnny just waited for her to select whatever on her phone. When she had it, Lydia stretched her arm out to show him a picture of himself, holding his dad's barking rat in his arms while he gave her a kiss. Lydia had taken that picture in a rare moment of distraction. Normally, Johnny and Daisy, the dog tester sample, didn't exactly get along.

"It's cute, isn't it?" She asked, proudly.

Johnny's eyebrows knitted together as he saw the platform in which Lydia was showing him the photo. "You put that on your Instagram?" He asked. The question didn't need an answer. She had tagged him too.

"And now I'm gonna put it on yours," she stated, sliding her phone in her dress pocket—she was always so fucking proud of her pocket-featuring dresses—and reaching for Johnny's phone on his desktop.

Johnny retrieved the phone from her hands. "Lydia, what the hell," he grumbled.

"Don't be so grumpy," she complained. "Carter Parrish liked it," she added matter-of-factly.

Johnny's whole body reacted to the mention of that name, but he'd gotten too good at shutting it down and hiding it away from sight.

"So?" He said stoically. He dropped his phone back on the desk.

"If it has Carter Parrish's stamp of approval, then it must be a cute picture," she reasoned.

"I doubt he liked it because it's cute," he said with an eye roll. "He probably didn't even really look at it."

"Why wouldn't he look at it? I thought you were friends with him. You two even hung out after school, two days ago," Lydia said nonchalantly.

Johnny spun around in his chair. "We were studying," he countered.

"That's like hanging out, but with books," Lydia said offhandedly. Before Johnny could move to stop it, she reached for his phone again and stood up from the bed to walk to the other end of the room.

Johnny shot up onto his feet. "Give it back."

"No."

Johnny walked up to his sister, trying to recover his phone. Lydia slipped away from his grasp, like a slimy eel.

"Stop being a grouch," she chided. Johnny got a hold of her wrist, trying to stop her from typing in his pin. He should have changed it after she guessed it – again.

Johnny's bedroom door opened and his mom walked in, rear first, holding a large basket of clean, ironed and folded clothes in her hands. "Mom! Johnny is being mean to me!" Lydia whined.

"Don't be mean to your sister," his mom told him softly, as she laid his pile of clothes on the foot of his bed.

Johnny scoffed. "What the-She literally just took my phone!"

His mother smiled dismissively. "Don't be so sensitive. Your sister's just playing with you." She picked up the basket again and backed out of the room.

Johnny stood, with his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, gaping incredulously. He shot his sister a disbelieving look. "Being a middle child sucks. Everything about my existence is unfair," he protested.

Lydia smiled impishly at him, handing him his own phone. "There."

Johnny took it from her harshly. The screen was unlocked and his Instagram account was open. Now featuring a new picture. Which was now his profile picture as well, apparently. He glared up at her.

"Why do you even care so much," Lydia said. "Your account is private. Only your fifty followers will see it."

Johnny ignored her flippant remark. He had ninety-three followers. And she fucking knew it. "Are you done?" He asked dryly. "Can I have my room back?"

Instead of leaving, Lydia sat back on his bed. "I have a favor to ask." She flashed him a pearly white smile.

Johnny snorted. "You really know how to prepare the field, don't you?"

His sister disregarded his scornful comment. "I need to go shopping," she declared.

"Then go."

She huffed impatiently. "You know I need you to drive me," she pouted. "Please. You're my favorite brother."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "That's what you tell Kevin, when he comes home," he mumbled.

"You're both my favorite," she quickly revised.

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

Lydia sprung onto her feet, nodding eagerly. He sighed. "Fine. I'll take you to the mall tomorrow."

"Thank you," she sang, launching her arms around his shoulders. Johnny let his arms stay at his sides, refusing to return the hug. It didn't seem to deter her. "You're my favorite brother," she stated once more before dropping a quick peck on his cheek and leaving.

Johnny sat back on his chair. He felt his phone vibrate and checked the notification.

carterhparrish15, mel_jones24 and 3 others liked your photo.

He didn't want to have that buoyant feeling in his stomach, but he couldn't stop it as it came. Against his own judgement, Johnny opened the app and pressed Carter's username.

He'd been tagged on lots of pictures in the past twelve hours, all of them from the post-game party at Chaz Wheeler's house. Johnny scrolled through dozens of photos staged around Chaz's pool. He clicked on one where the football team's ape-like center, Scott Meyers, and Joey Ashley were holding Carter's legs up for a keg stand. The quarterback's shirt had slipped down in his inverted position to reveal an impressive mosaic of a toned stomach. Johnny bit down on his lip, careful not to make any inadvertent clicks.

He moved onto a collection of photos posted by Joey Ashley, well past four am. Carter was tagged in a selfie in which both boys appeared with open—and beyond tipsy—grins. Johnny also couldn't help but notice Carter's shirt appeared to have vanished somewhere between the time of that keg stand and the taking of that selfie. The angle of the camera only allowed for a glimpse of a hard chest and one muscular shoulder, though. His wet hair was pulled back and away from his face, and a few droplets of water were scattered around all visible skin. He looked... well...

Johnny changed to the section of the photos Carter had posted on his own account. The latest one showed him pressed between Chaz Wheeler and Joey Ahsley, who appeared to be the one holding the phone for the selfie. They were all grinning—handsome, confident grins—in full football gear, save for the helmet. It had been posted just before the game. Which they had won, Johnny heard.

Johnny clicked on another photo from his feed, this one taken in the summer. Both his hands appeared on the picture, one pulling back his damp hair and the other displaying a peace sign, which meant somebody else had taken it. The stretch of bright blue sea bellow a vast clear sky in the background told Johnny it had been taken at the beach. Which also explained the shirtless torso again. The frame didn't reach further down than his mid-chest area though. Despite the tantalizing view of a pair of strong broad shoulders, however, the most striking thing in the picture was definitely the stunning grin. Carter looked happy – in a completely carefree, unguarded way.

With two fingers on the screen, Johnny zoomed in on usually grayish eyes, which in that image reflected the blue of the sky. Moving farther down the picture, he zoomed in on another feature - pink full lips. Johnny's stomach twisted with tickling heat at the memory of those lips in a different context. Not just the sight of them - their feel, their taste. Cranberry and whiskey, and something else that was all Carter.

Johnny tried not to go there. For every possible reason and a few others.

He dropped the phone on the desk as soon as he saw the big white heart flashing over the photo.

Shit.

That picture was three months old. Carter was going to think he was a creep. He considered double-tapping again, but it was too late. He'd probably still get the notification.

Running a nervous hand through his hair, Johnny left his phone alone and focused his undivided attention on what he'd been doing before. The outline of a book report for English class. He could distract himself with school work. And he did just that. He barely even glanced at his phone for the next hour. Only a once or twice. Times ten.

When his phone buzzed again, Johnny practically jumped at it. He tried not to think about the embarrassing excitement bubbling in his chest when he saw the name on his message feed.

Carter Parrish.

Biting down on an inevitable smile, he typed a vague response.

Johnny set the phone down and told himself he didn't care if he got an answer. Because he really didn't.

He had school work. He was busy. His mind wasn't on his phone. It certainly wasn't on a boy. And he definitely wasn't checking the time on the bottom right corner of his laptop screen to see it had been nearly ten minutes since he'd texted back.

His phone buzzed and Johnny promised himself he would take to the grave the way he'd expectantly launched himself at it. No one had to know but him.

Johnny snorted into the silence of his room.

Johnny's bedroom door swung open once more, without warning.

"Don't you ever knock?" He cried.

"I'm your sister," Lydia said simply.

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Not what I asked," he murmured. Looking down, his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he read Carter's reply.

"I only came to tell you Mom and Dad just left," Lydia said from his bed. "They took Daisy for a walk."

Johnny only hummed absently as a way of answer, watching the three little dots float on the lower left corner of his screen for one mere brief second.

"What are you doing?"

Johnny glanced up from his phone quickly. "Nothing." He did a double take at his sister. "What are you doing?"

"Lying on your bed," she said, flopping down onto her stomach over his duvet.

Johnny opened his mouth to quip back a comeback, but movement down on his screen cut him off before he could start.

"Are you texting?"

Johnny looked up again. "Why do you care?"

Another message from Carter popped up and his eyes traveled like lasers toward their target.

"I've never seen you text," Lydia said.

Johnny scoffed, looking at her. "I text."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Me, mom and Kev."

"And grandma," Johnny added.

Lydia smirked. "But you shouldn't tell people that."

Johnny had a comeback on the tip of his tongue, ready to bite back, but Carter's reply came first. He looked down at his screen.

"Who are you texting?"

Johnny didn't acknowledged his sister's question.

Lydia did not repeat herself, but Johnny could feel her wide, doe-eyed look burning into him. He rolled his eyes. "Just Carter."

"Carter Parrish?"

Johnny shrugged again, searching through his phone's gallery for a response to send.

Johnny huffed loudly. "What?" He snapped. He could actually feel Lydia staring at him.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Do you have a crush on Carter Parrish?"

Johnny's lips parted. Had he been smiling down at his phone? Again?

"Why would I have a crush on Carter Parrish?" He asked, going for the lamest deviation technique ever.

Lydia snorted. "He's gorgeous. And really sweet," she said as though laying out an universally known truth. "He's probably the kind of guy that, like, holds doors for you and recycles all his plastics."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Johnny's lips, despite his efforts. "He's also really good at math," he muttered.

Lydia gasped sarcastically. "You mean there's a football player out there who can count?"

Johnny grinned slyly. "Kevin is a football player," he reminded.

Lydia's face fell into an expression of composed serenity. "And I love him, but I take nothing back."

Johnny snorted. "Carter's actually really smart," he told her.

His phone vibrated in his hand and he unlocked the screen immediately.

This time, Johnny noticed the grin on his own face as he typed back. He could also feel Lydia's scrutiny as she adjusted her position on his bed to sit with her legs folded beneath her.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, shaking her head. "You really do like him, don't you?"

Johnny didn't like her