Chapter Eleven
Maverick
Nothing made me second-guess my life decisions more than when I was standing in a pair of crotch-hugging pants and picking out a wig backstage.
I mean, it was for my Gaston role, but still.
None of the outfits were ready yet, but the theater department had a big wardrobe area, and Sarah and I were back there that Tuesday after school, trying to take inventory of what costumes we had and which ones we’d need to have made and altered for the production. Mr. Lee hadn’t made us do it; we’d volunteered.
“These pants are riding up my butt,” I said to Sarah, shuffling around and trying to get the feel of them.
Sarah laughed and gave me a once-over. “They look great to me.”
“Quit undressing me with your eyes.” I playfully turned my body from her. “I feel violated.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tight Crotch McGee, we need to go through the last two racks of clothes.”
About twenty minutes later, we’d gone through all the clothes and made notes and suggestions before going back onto the stage where Mr. Lee and the other members of the cast were sitting. I’d also stripped out of those demon pants.
Mr. Lee had the scripts ready to give out, and he gave each of us one.
Peter, the diva extraordinaire, smirked at me as I sat down and grabbed my script.
“No hard feelings I hope,” he said in a voice that rang of haughtiness. “Not everyone can be a star.”
“You’re right,” Sarah said before I could respond. “Not everyone can be a star, Peter, but you know what? Mav is the freaking universe, and you’re just jealous that no matter how bright you are—or think you are—you’ll never compare to him. Not with that attitude and cattiness.”
I smiled at her, grateful and sort of awed that she’d defended me. I could stick up for myself, but it was still nice to have a friend who cared so much.
Peter didn’t say anything. Instead he scoffed and focused on his script, but his cheeks reddened.
We didn’t really do much that day. It was more just a meeting to hand out scripts and for Mr. Lee to tell us a little more about the plan for the upcoming months. The band had received the sheet music for the songs and was beginning practice, and the choir was doing the same, learning the background vocals for some of the bigger songs.
As other people talked and asked questions, I found myself thinking of Avery.
Maybe he’d be interested in being part of the set design crew. Mr. Lee had said anyone who wanted to help could, but no one was obligated to. Extra credit would be giving to those who did, though. Grades were given out based on participation in class and activities.
I’d bring it up to him the next time we talked.
And that thought of course reminded me that Avery and I hadn’t really talked at all that week. The only talking we’d done had been the random greeting before class or a smile from across the room.
I’d believed we were starting to become actual friends, but then he’d slipped back into his somewhat aloof self again, as if the time we’d spent together hadn’t happened.
Other than his appearance—because yeah, I was crazy attracted to him—I was also drawn to him for another reason. He seemed broken. Well, maybe not fully broken, but damaged in some way. Like the world had beat him up so much that he’d started believing he deserved it. That he’d accepted the fact things wouldn’t get better.
I didn’t know him well enough to be so transfixed by him, and yet, I was. The rare instances when I’d gotten him to smile, I’d seen a different side to Avery. One who, if only for a split second, forgot about whatever issues weighed him down and let himself be free of it. To smile because he was happy and not just to put a face on for the people around him.
Then, the shadows would creep back into his eyes, and the glimpse of happiness would fade away.
That’s why he called to me so much. That broken side of him that I saw reflected in his face at times. The one that caused him to angle his body inward, as if he were always on edge and expecting someone to hurt him.
I wanted to fix him—to help. But maybe, he didn’t need to be fixed. And maybe I couldn’t even if I tried.
As if reading my mind, Sarah said, “I wonder what Avery’s doing tonight. It was fun hanging out with him the last time.” The meeting had ended and we were leaving the auditorium and walking outside. “He seems so introverted, doesn’t he? When we went out, he didn’t really say much about himself.”
“Not everyone is so open,” I said. “I get the impression he isn’t used to having a social life. So maybe he’s just not sure how to act, ya know?”
“Probably.” She looped arms with me as we walked to the student parking lot. “He’s cute.”
“Yeah.”
The mention of his looks had me picturing him. Which was just perfect, because my body started reacting to the thoughts… while I was looping arms with Sarah. I tried to shake the image of Avery’s sexy bottom lip that gave him that pouted look. How soft his skin had been when I’d grabbed his wrist while he’d been sitting in the passenger seat of my car. The way his lips parted sometimes when I talked to him; how they’d curved a bit the day I’d told him Chris and I’d broken up.
My pants felt tighter, and I was thankful I wasn’t wearing those god awful crotch huggers anymore. At least my jeans somewhat hid the fact that I was thinking of Avery a bit too much.
Thankfully, Sarah didn’t notice. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I answered, receiving a playful snarl from her. “Okay, maybe a lot. Am I an ass for already liking someone else?”
I didn’t mention that I’d liked Avery even before Chris and I’d ended things.
“Not to me,” she answered, digging in her purse for her keys. Once they were found, she unlocked her car, opened the door, and faced me. “Look, Mav. Chris is the ass in the equation. If he can shack up with some guy while you guys are dating, you can have a crush on a guy when y’all aren’t. Stop overthinking everything.”
After we said bye, I got in my car and watched her drive off before quickly adjusting myself. I drove home and said hi to my parents before going up to my room… where I then flopped on my bed and pulled out my phone, scrolling through Instagram for like the hundredth time that day.
I’d hardly ever gotten on that stupid app until Sarah told me to get on and look the week before. Now, I checked it religiously, as if just to torture myself.
Chris and his new boyfriend looked happy together. With me having a thing for Avery, I really shouldn’t have cared about what Chris did, but I guess a small part of me still loved him—still craved what we’d had before he had moved away to college.
If he could be happy, why couldn’t I?
Knowing Sarah should’ve been home too, I texted her.
Me: Hey, chick. Um, would it be bad for me to make a move on Avery?
Her response came through seconds later. The girl practically had her phone glued to her hand.
Sarah: So… like a rebound? Do u even know if he’s gay?
Me: Not sure if he is. And idk. Is it a rebound if I really like him?
I didn’t wait for her answer before I tossed my phone beside me on the mattress and buried my face in my hands. I wasn’t sure who the hell I was anymore.
Did I want Avery just to spite Chris or did I want him because I’d felt that draw since the first day I’d laid eyes on him?
Reason told me I barely knew him. But my heart told me I knew him better than reason allowed.
For weeks we’d talked on and off, and within that time, he’d started working his way into my thoughts more and more. I needed to see him. Maybe it’d help me figure it all out.
And I had a good idea where I’d find him.
“Where are you off to?” Mom asked as I came down the stairs. “You just got home.”
“Just gonna drive around for a while,” I said, giving her a one-armed hug. “I’ll be home before curfew. No worries.”
Since I wasn’t an out of control teenager who partied and did all of that crap, my parents trusted me. So, if I wanted to go somewhere, it wasn’t difficult to get them to agree.
Walking to my car, a chill spread across the exposed skin of my arms, and I jogged back into the house to grab a light jacket. It was September, and the approaching fall weather was already seeping into the area and could be felt the most when the sun was setting. Before I backed out of the driveway, I checked my phone.
Sarah: U might wanna find out before u make a move, baby boy. Don’t wanna get slugged in the face or something.
I chuckled and put my phone in the cup holder.
As I drove through my neighborhood—one that was well kept and filled with fancy houses that were much bigger than what they probably needed to be—I thought of Avery’s house, and how different our lives were. I didn’t know much about his personal life, other than what I’d seen with my own eyes.
He’d said he had a younger brother. What about his parents?
Instead of driving through town, I took the back way, turning onto Boulder Street. It was a narrow, two lane road that went on the outskirts of town, and came out near the train tracks—right where I hoped Avery would be. Night had taken over completely by the time I got there. And yeah, it was creepy as hell.
I pulled off the main road and onto the grass beside the massive wall of trees before cutting the engine.
Quiet.
Sitting in my car, I debated on starting the sucker back up and getting out of there while I still could. I mean, what was I thinking? Avery might not even be there, and I would’ve come out there and chanced getting murdered for nothing. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet, so all I saw were some of the trees where the moon shone on them.
And dark shapes.
Every scary movie I’d ever seen decided that was the perfect time to pop into my head and play out all kinds of scenarios where I got chopped into a million pieces and scattered over the train tracks, or dragged into the woods by some invisible force and end up torn to shreds. Like the freaking Blair Witch.
Holy crap did that tree just move?
I blinked and shook my head before focusing back on the spot. I could’ve sworn something had definitely moved. Wasn’t there also a legend about something called Slender Man? Who hid in the woods… and was tall and lanky… like the thing I thought I just saw.
A loud tap at my window made me scream and ball my fists.
The pale face on the other side of the glass freaked me out even more, and I swung at the window in a panic. Which was stupid, of course, because the glass was thick, and I hadn’t used enough force to do any damage to it. So when my fist hit, my knuckles cracked, and a string of curse words left my lips.
And all of this happened in, like, three seconds. But it seemed like it lasted forever.
I’m gonna die. And my last moment on this earth will not be me fighting to my death heroically. No, I will go out screaming like a little girl.