Chapter Twenty
Avery
“Thanks for volunteering to help with the set design,” Mr. Lee said to me that Tuesday after school. “We can always use an extra set of hands around here. So much to do.”
“It’s no problem,” I told him. “I’m happy to help.”
Several things had factored into my decision to help with the production. First, it’d allow me to get out more instead of being stuck at home. Second, it’d make me feel great to know I was actually helping with something and not just being a waste of space.
Lastly—and yeah, it was the main reason—I’d get to see Maverick more since he’d be staying after school for rehearsal.
The cast still didn’t have full costumes, but some of them wore pieces of their outfits while practicing that afternoon. As I helped paint a backdrop with some of the other kids from class, I heard Maverick’s deep voice boom from the stage. It was a scene near the beginning of the play when Gaston and LeFou were walking through the village.
I smiled.
Only a few days had passed since our date, but I was still soaring from it. I still wasn’t sure if I was capable of dating with all of my issues, but Maverick made me happy in ways I’d never been before.
The band had come in to rehearse songs that day too. As I blended in shades of green for the hillside scene, I heard music start playing, followed by Sarah beginning Belle’s opening song. She had a great voice, and I found myself kind of swaying to the melody.
Other people had lines in the song—like the random townspeople—but when another voice sounded, I couldn’t concentrate on painting anymore.
I turned and stared through the opening from the backstage to where Maverick was strutting around the stage and singing his part. He walked in a circle around Sarah, who feigned disgust, and he looked at me.
When our eyes met, my heart jumped into my throat.
Maverick grinned before looking away from me and speaking his next line during the break in the song. He was magnetic.
It was then I knew I wanted to continue whatever it was we were doing.
Yeah, my issues would become a problem between us sooner or later, but selfishly, I hoped it was later and not sooner. For once, I needed to feel wanted. To have something I never thought I’d have: happiness. Normality.
I wanted to be a typical teenager who went on dates and had friends.
I hadn’t cut myself in days. Not since hanging out with Mav. He was helping me in ways he didn’t even realize. I didn’t feel the need to cut and release all the bad stuff, because for the time I’d been with him, he had lifted me up and made me feel like I mattered.
I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it’d last forever. No matter how happy I was now, I knew the bad would eventually return—just as it always did.
“Your name’s Avery, right?” the girl beside me asked.
She had long, super thin brown hair and straight across bangs. She wasn’t wearing any makeup that I could see, but she didn’t need it. All the times I’d seen her in class, she’d worn neck-high T-shirts and jeans. On the occasions she’d worn a somewhat revealing blouse it had always been buttoned to the very top button.
I’d gotten the impression she must’ve been religious by how modest she dressed, and also because of the cross necklace she always had around her neck. I didn’t see anything wrong with religion, but only when people didn’t try to force it on others.
“Yeah. That’s me,” I answered, a bit on guard. Mom had tried taking us to church a few years earlier, because she’d been desperate for a change in our life, but the church hadn’t approved of how I dressed—or her line of work—and let us know after the service that we weren’t welcomed back. So I was leery based on how I’d been treated by religious people in the past. “You’re Jennifer?”
She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same,” I said, still with my guard up. After changing brushes, I dipped it in yellow paint and added some scattered flowers to the hillside backdrop. “This is sorta fun, isn’t it?”
Not sure why I tried to keep the conversation going, but it seemed like the right thing to do since she’d spoken to me first. I didn’t want to seem rude.
“It really is,” she answered with a big smile, showing just how passionate she was about it. “Creating art is all I want to do in life: painting, drawing, sculpting. It’s the one thing that’s mine. The one thing no one can take from me. And nothing can touch me when I’m lost in my work.”
I stopped painting and studied her. “I get that. It’s like in a world where everyone tries to tell you what to do and what to be, art is the one thing you get to control. How you express yourself in ways you can’t always express with words.”
Her brown eyes lit up. “Exactly! So you’re into art too?”
“Kind of,” I answered. Since being an architect involved drawing and design, it was a form of art.
“Your style is an art too,” she said, examining my face. “Do you mind if I take a photo of you?”
Her statement threw me off, and I stared at her dumbfounded. All the years of bullying made it hard for me to believe there wasn’t a malicious trick she was about to pull. Like she’d print out the photo and make anti-Avery flyers or something. I didn’t know.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you don’t conform to social norms,” she answered, and her voice lacked any hints of disgust. If anything, she seemed intrigued by me. “I admire that. I’ve grown up in a Christian household, and while I love my God and my family, there are things I wish I could do. Wear makeup, paint my nails, and even put highlights in my hair. My family won’t allow any of that. Then, I see you, and you’re so unapologetic about yourself. Maybe the photo will act as a reminder for me to eventually be unapologetic too.”
I smiled, not used to those kinds of compliments, especially from strangers.
“Um, then sure,” I answered, trying to battle my nerves and self-consciousness.
“Yay! Thank you.” Jennifer returned my smile. She got out her phone and clicked the camera icon.
“Should I, like, smile? Or do a thumb’s up?”
She giggled. “Just act natural. Maybe face that way and give me just your side profile.”
I did as she said, facing our wall of trees and hills and trying to calm my frantic heartbeat.
“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she said, looking at her screen. “Wanna see?”
I nodded and leaned over.
She had used a fancy filter on it that gave it that professional photography glow. The background was blurred, and I was the only thing in focus. The expression on my face was kind of sad, but from that angle, she’d caught the shadow from my lashes, and the way the light hit my blue eyes made them appear gray.
“I’ve never seen myself like that,” I said.
“We hardly ever see ourselves the way others do,” she said, putting her phone back in her purse. Looking at the backdrop, she said, “I think it needs more blue here.”
Appearances truly meant nothing. Jennifer seemed one way, but she craved to be different. Free. She looked at me and saw someone to admire; someone who freely expressed themselves.
What she didn’t see was the screwed up part of me that hid beneath it all.
Maybe we were all struggling in some way to accept our true selves; whether we be religious kids, popular athletes, or outcasts. And for some people, maybe that struggle never ended. Not until they found someone who understood them and accepted the parts they thought were imperfect.
We just needed someone to see our imperfections and love them anyway.
***
“Hey, you,” Maverick said as he jumped off the stage and neared me. “Ready to go?”
I’d been sitting in the audience in one of the super comfy chairs, waiting for him to finish rehearsal, and I stood up. His hair was messy from the wig he’d put on earlier, and I pressed my mouth into a line to keep from laughing.
“Yeah,” I answered, still fighting a grin. One strand of his hair was sticking straight up.
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, Alfalfa,” I answered with a straight face before grabbing his arm and leading him down the aisle. “Let’s go.”
He chuckled from behind me. “Does that make you Spanky?”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. No point in telling him I’d never actually watched the movie; I’d only heard the reference from other people and seen the picture of the kid with the sticking up hair.
Once we were outside, I released his arm and shivered at the sudden chill attacking my body. I was wearing a jacket, but it was colder than I expected.
“Did you have a good time backstage?” he asked, walking closer to me. He ran a hand through his tousled hair and patted it back down in place.
“I did,” I said, resisting the urge to put my arm around his waist. His warmth would certainly drive away some of the chill, but I was too shy to initiate it. We’d never said if we were dating now or not, and I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself if he’d changed his mind. “I heard you sing. You’re really good, Mav.”
The choir teacher had been working with the cast on their songs, so Mav was learning about singing from the diaphragm and all of that stuff that he hadn’t known before. His voice was stronger and clearer now.
“Thanks.” He placed his hand at the small of my back as we walked across the street toward the student parking lot. “I was upset when I first got the part, but I’m embracing it now and just having fun with it.”
I understood where he was coming from. Maverick was so much more than what others perceived him as. More than the jock. Just like I was more than the emo.
The parking lot was pretty much empty since it was after school. Only the football guys and theater kids were around. One of the football guys called out to Mav from the practice field. I’d learned some of their names in recent weeks, since Ben and I’d started sitting at Maverick’s table at lunch, but with helmets and uniforms on, I couldn’t tell who’d spoken.
They all looked the same—tall, broad shouldered, lean waists, and nice calves. And butts.
When we got to Mav’s car, he followed me to the passenger’s side.
Just as I was about to ask him what he was doing, he faced me and slowly backed me up into the door. He was so close that his hips pressed in to mine. And yeah, it started having an effect on me—an effect that had me softly panting and aching in places I hadn’t really ached before.
His sapphire eyes held my gaze with such intensity that my knees wobbled.
My mouth went dry as I stared at him, and my heart pounded so hard, I wondered if he could feel it too. The last time he’d kissed me, it had caught me off guard, resulting in me lashing out at him.
If he tried it again—like this—I might let him.
“I really like you, Avery,” he said, still just as close. Just as intense. Slowly, he brought his hand up and brushed his knuckles along my cheek, following the curve before trailing down to my lips. “Way more than a friend. I know you said over the weekend that we were moving too fast, but—”
“I never said we were moving too fast,” I interjected. “I only asked if you thought we were. Just a question.” With the racing of my heart also came the quickening of my pulse, and I trembled a bit. Either from desire or nerves. Perhaps both. “I’ve never dated, so I don’t know how it works. Not exactly.” I swallowed, but it didn’t help my dry mouth any. “Before you, I didn’t even know I was into guys.”
“But you are?” he asked as desire flashed in his eyes and his brow creased. His breath touched my mouth, and an involuntary shiver went through me. He put one arm near my head, resting it against the car. That, mixed in with how close his body was, made my skin prickle. “Because dammit, Avery, you’re all I want. But if you aren’t feeling it, I don’t want to push you.”
The whole freaking football team was practicing not too far away and could probably see us, but I didn’t care about anything right then except for Maverick.
“I still don’t know why you want me,” I said, searching his face as my eyes started to sting. Out of all the guys he could choose from, he chose me. It made no sense. “I’m nothing, Mav.”
“Don’t say that.” His stern tone was unexpected, but his expression remained soft. “You don’t see yourself the way I see you, Avery. If you give me the chance, I’ll try to show you, though. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met. Even when I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of you, I did.” He caressed my cheek again, but this time slower than before. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
So many reasons why it wouldn’t work entered my head, flashing like huge, blinking neon signs. He was handsome and had it all, whereas I didn’t. I was too messed up. He wouldn’t want me once he discovered my dirty little secret.
Dating meant kissing, which then eventually turned to other stuff. Stuff that’d involve him seeing parts of my body I was too ashamed to even see myself.
And yet, in that moment, I didn’t care.
“I want you too,” I whispered, afraid my heart was going to burst from my chest and splash blood all over his face and neck. Yeah, the gruesome movie we’d watched over the weekend was to blame for that imagery.
Maverick’s face relaxed, and he took my hand in his. With the hand near my head, he started playing with the back of my hair. It kind of tickled, but I liked it.
“So… are we dating?” he asked with a hopeful smile.
I nodded, not sure what it meant.
His face lit up, and I thought—hoped—he was going to try to kiss me, but instead he backed up and opened up my door. I slid into the car, and he shut the door before walking over to the driver’s side and getting in.
We didn’t talk as he backed out of the parking lot and got on the main road. I peeked at him to get a read on him, and I noticed him smiling. That was a good sign at least.
Without a word, he reached across the seat and grabbed my hand.
As I returned his hold, it felt like there was a bird in my chest, fluttering its wings as it attempted to take flight. Perhaps I would’ve even lifted off the seat and started floating upward had Maverick not been holding me.
We’d held hands a lot, but it felt different now. More significant. It wasn’t just a random act anymore, but one that meant something. What that something was, I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure.
All I knew was I never wanted to let go.
It took longer for us to get to my house, because he took the scenic route along the way. I had no complaints because it let me spend more time with him. But eventually, we arrived, and he parked in front of my house.
I didn’t move. I just stared at the chipped paint on the door, the grass leading up to the small, caving-in porch, and the living room window.
Sometimes I thought the house was haunted—not by ghosts, but by emotions. Anger, sadness, depression, more anger. It was as if when I walked across the threshold, my outlook on life changed. Any happiness faded and left something sinister in its wake. The itch moved under my skin and it’d take all my strength not to go in that bathroom.
I could feel it starting to stir, and I knew my reprieve from it wouldn’t last as long as I’d hoped.
“Hey.” Maverick’s hand gently squeezed mine. “You okay?”
When I turned my head and looked at him, a tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away.
“Yeah,” I lied, unfastening my seatbelt. But when I tried to pull away from him, his hold on my hand tightened.
“Don’t lie,” he said, studying me in a way that told me he saw right through my façade. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not. Everything’s fine,” I said, finally letting go of his hand. I instantly missed his warmth. “I’m just zoning. See you tomorrow?”
Maverick nodded as a faraway look came into his eyes. “Yeah. See ya.”
Now was my chance to escape before I broke down in front of him, but I hesitated.
He must’ve been confused by all of my mood swings—my back and forth about being his friend in the beginning, then agreeing to date him and in the same hour, sinking into another low and becoming distant.
I didn’t want him to think I was playing games with him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, staring at his side profile. Even at seventeen, he had the kind of jawline most models would’ve killed for. I still found myself being intimidated by how hot he was sometimes. Knowing how kindhearted he was, though, helped wash that uneasiness away. “You don’t deserve my type of crazy. If you want to back out now, from dating me or whatever, you can. I’ll understand.”
Mav focused on me. “I’m not backing out. It’s just…” His gaze shifted to the steering wheel where he had a hand draped over the top. “Just when I think you’re opening up to me… letting me see the real you… you withdraw again. And I don’t know if it’s because you don’t trust me or if I’m doing something wrong.”
I hated that I was making him doubt himself. As if my self-loathing could get any lower, that thought did it.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” I said. “When I told you that night at the train tracks that I’m complicated, I meant it. It’s nothing you’ve done.” My throat tightened, and I looked away from him. “There’s just things about my life… about my past… that still impact me. I’ve tried letting it all go, but it’s not just a simple fix.”
“Does it have to do with what you said about your dad?” he asked. Abruptly, I turned my head toward him. His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Avery. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m just trying to understand you—”
“You’re right,” I said, tired of lying to him and making excuses. “He’s part of it. Because of everything that happened with him, it caused the other screwed up things. Like a sick as hell chain reaction of events.”
The emotion I hated crossed his face: pity. It’s one reason I hadn’t told him anything about it yet. I didn’t want him to see me differently.
I just wanted him to see me. Not my issues.
“You’re not gonna tell me more, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Maybe one day.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just need to be patient, huh?” As the smile touched his lips, I felt the tension release from my shoulders. “You don’t know my secrets either.” He cocked his head and lifted a brow. “I could be a superhero for all you know. Going to school by day and kicking bad guys’ asses by night.”
Grinning at his weirdness, I opened the door. “See you later, Mav.” He didn’t respond, and I turned back to him once I was out of the car. He looked sad. “Mav?”
“I hate this part,” he said, and the way he pouted nearly made me laugh. But I couldn’t tell if he was seriously upset or not, so I suppressed it and only laughed on the inside. “I’ll have to wait until the morning to talk to you again.”
If I had a job, I could’ve had a phone and texted him like normal kids my age, but no place I’d applied had hired me yet. That had never crossed my mind as a con of him being with me. Until now.
“I’m sorry,” I said, but before I could let the negativity ruin our goodbye, I grinned. “Looks like you’ll just have to court me like the old days. Write me an ode or something.”
The goofy grin on his face was too cute. “Shall I climb the balcony outside thou window and recite Shakespeare too?”
I rolled my eyes. “Goodnight, big guy.”
I shut the door, but not before I saw him smile. It was an image I’d try to hold onto all night. Things might’ve gone a bit askew with us that evening, but it had ended with a smile. That’s what mattered.
As I walked up to the house, I knew he was watching me. He liked to make sure I made it inside before he drove off. Crazy how such a simple gesture could make me all mushy inside. Once I got to the door, I waved before going inside.
On the other side of the door, I leaned against it and just kind of stood there like that. Smiling. Not moving.
“Dude, why are you bein’ so weird?” Declan asked, looking up at me from his spot on the couch. He was eating chips straight from the family sized bag. “Did you finally get laid or something?”
“Is that all you’ve had for dinner?” I asked, nodding to the chips and purposefully ignoring his question. I crossed the section of floor that transitioned from cheap tile to carpet. Mom was already gone, so it was just us for the night. “I can make us something. I haven’t eaten yet.”
Declan scoffed and laid his head back on the cushion. His brown hair was longer than his preferred style, so I figured Mom would be trimming it for him soon.
“Yes, Mom,” he said sarcastically. “Chips are all I’ve had.”
“No need to be an ass.”
“Maybe there’s no need for you to always be on my case either,” he shot back, tossing the bag aside before standing from the couch and coming toward me. “I’m not a little kid anymore. Stop treating me like one. If I want to eat junk for dinner, so be it. I can take care of myself, and I don’t need you babying me all the time.”
“I’m not babying you,” I said, shocked at his attitude. “What the hell is wrong, D? Did something happen at school to piss you off?”
“Maybe if you were around more, you’d know,” he answered with a harsh tone. “Instead, you’re off sucking your new boyfriends dick every chance you get.”
I didn’t point out that he’d contradicted himself; saying I babied him one moment and then complained I wasn’t around enough the next.
“Which is fine,” he continued. “I don’t need you anyway.”
His words hurt me more than I let on. It was like my time with Mav hadn’t happened. The brief moment of joy when I’d come into the house had left so quickly, I wondered if it’d even been real.
“Fine,” I said, balling my fists. Not because I wanted to hit Declan, but because I was feeling a surge of energy going through my veins. Energy that screamed for release. “Go stuff your face with more chips. I’m going to take a shower.”
He stared me down before walking back into the living room and mumbling, “Whatever.”
With heavy steps, I moved toward the bathroom. Toward the blade hidden under the sink. The argument had triggered it—the feeling of worthlessness. All my life, I’d put him first. And when I finally took time for myself? He lashed out at me as if I’d neglected him.
He didn’t need me, though.
No one did.
Behind closed doors, I breathed a sigh of relief as I held the razor in my hand. I hated it, but needed it. It was a vile act, but one I couldn’t stop.
I wish I could stop.