Avery
My best friend is the annoying brat of a sister I never had but would probably pay someone to keep her in my life. Isn’t that what having a sister is like? Best friends and worst enemies, arguing over trivial things, but traveling life together as a team? Ready to kill each other one minute and the next ready to kill for each other? I can’t help but love her.
“Tell me.” She sucks the Cheetos powder off her fingers. “What exactly is stopping you from calling him?” She’s also a damn headache and pain in the ass.
I check to make sure Maddi is out of earshot before answering. “I don’t want anything serious,” I whisper although my daughter isn’t in the room. That girl has super hearing where she can hear a pin drop from a mile away.
“Who said anything about serious? Did he?”
“No. But I don’t want him to think it’ll become serious.”
“Have you talked to him about where you stand?”
“No. I didn’t tell him about Maddi or my true source of income. I kind of told him I worked for a snowboard team…” I bite my lip.
She snorts. “You sound like a hooker. ‘Source of income,’” she mocks with a laugh and then scoots up to the end of the couch cushion. “What is wrong with having a little fun? The old Avery would’ve jumped him in the hallway, but this Avery…” Her lip curls in disgust as she waves her hand up and down. “She’s a stalemate. Boring as ever. You need a man. A dick that isn’t suction cupped to the shower wall. He doesn’t have to know about your life to get in between your legs. You know you want to screw him.”
I glance down the hall for Maddi. “First.” I hold up a finger. “My solo fun happens in the bed. Second. Yes. I want him. Badly. He gives me…” I trail off uncertain of the perfect word. She’d ream me if she knew how much I wanted him. Probably tell me I’m lost in the unfucked universe, never to be saved. I haven’t necessarily been one-hundred percent truthful in telling her how he makes me feel—the magnetic pull that grips me and yanks me to him in hopes of anchoring down.
“Heat,” she finishes where I left off. “He gives you horny on a stick and dammit, Ave, you need to let him be your stick.”
I burst out laughing. “He’s packing, that’s for sure.”
“Packing? Like a gun or a dick?”
“Dick, Rave.” I roll my eyes. “Why would I care if he’s got a gun?”
Her lips contort. “Who the hell knows with you lately.”
I drop in the loveseat and rest back. “I have a daughter to think about and several upcoming boarding events. You know the moment I tell him about either, he’ll take off for the hills or latch on for the fame he’ll think I am.”
She groans. “You get burned a few times and you label them all the same. Who’s to say he’d do that? What if he’s different and doesn’t give a damn about either?”
I gawk her like she’s lost her mind.
Her brows pinch together forcing her baby face to scrunch up. “Do you really think he’d give a rat’s ass that you’re a snowboarder?”
“No. But what about Maddi? He’s a bachelor. You know he’s not interested in a woman with a child.”
“If it’s not serious, don’t tell him.”
“That’s been my plan all along.”
“But seeing how she’s your pride and joy, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep her a secret for too long. Your life revolves around her.”
“I hate having to pretend she doesn’t exist. She’s such an incredible kid. But I also don’t want her to get her hopes up and latch on to someone who won’t be around.” I dig my palm into my forehead to relieve the pressure. “I’ll tell him if things move in a different direction, but for now, I’m not interested in serious. That’s my only justification for being a shitty mother.”
Raven cackles, slapping her leg. “You’re totally not a shitty mom. You’re just cautious and in a weird position. Speaking of. Call him and have some fun. Get your ass in a position with him, like on your back or on all fours. I’ll help watch Maddi when you need me to. Just promise to wrap it up ‘cause I’m not changing diapers again. Not a fat chance on a snow-topped mountain I’ll do that again.”
“I’d love for him to get me in any position. And I’m sure he can talk me right into it. He’s really smooth with his words.”
Wickedness soaks her smile. “So are you.”
“Momma!” Maddi calls out from her bedroom. “Do I have to go to school tomorrow?”
Raven and I share a confused look. Maddi never wants to miss school.
“I got marker on my pink shirt, the one I was going to wear tomorrow. I can’t go to school with marker on my favorite shirt. I didn’t mean to. It was on my chair and I dropped the dumb marker and now it’s on my shirt.”
“Who cares what other people think of you, Madz,” Raven says.
“I don’t, but it’s my favorite shirt and I was going to wear it tomorrow.”
“Oh, but you care what Isaac thinks,” I say and she murders me with a glare.
Raven jerks sitting up. “Isaac? Who is Isaac?”
Maddi mutes…which is amazing.
“Does this Isaac have a job?” Raven jests.
“He’s in my class. He’s seven and he can’t work,” she replies like Raven is the stupidest person alive.
Raven crosses her arms. “So, tell me about this Isaac. What’s so great about him that has your attention? Is he nice? Is he cute? Smart? I have all these questions.”
Maddi doesn’t skip a beat. Isaac is her favorite subject at the moment. “He’s really cute and sweet and he can run really, really fast. He’s a star football player, well they don’t tackle, but he’s the best one on the team. And he wears nice clothes. Sometimes he gives me his strawberries at lunch because he doesn’t like the seeds and he draws me hearts. He got two dollars from the tooth fairy and bought me a chocolate milk. He says I’m his girlfriend and gave me one of those yellow weed flowers at recess. He can swing really high too.”
Raven looks as amused as I was when she gave me the exact same spiel. I can’t help but smile. This is the first time I’ve seen my daughter excited and animated about a boy. She went from “all boys are gross” to “Isaac is the best.” It’s heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. First crushes are normally followed by first heartbreak and I’m not ready for the tears…or her revenge.
“I’m sure whatever you wear, he’ll like it. Don’t change who you are for a boy,” I tell her.
She blows a breath, rolling her eyes. “That was such a mom thing to say.” And my sassy little girl turns on her heels and ambles back down the hallway.
Raven’s cracking up. “She is so you. A four-foot spitfire.”
I throw myself back into the cushions. “God, I know. Scary as shit, isn’t it?”