Chapter Eighteen
Avery
“So, let me get this straight,” Declan said, giving me the sarcastic look he was known for. “You want me to go with you on your date with some guy?”
We’d just walked through the front door to a quiet house. Mom must’ve been still sleeping, because her car was in the driveway. The musky smell hit me, and I crinkled my nose. No matter how long we’d lived there, the smell never got better. After a while, it wasn’t as noticeable, but after having been gone all day and then walking back into the stuffy air, the smell returned full-force.
“It’s not a date,” I denied, feeling my cheeks heat. I didn’t think it was anyway. “He’s not just some guy either. He’s my friend.”
“The friend you have a crush on, though,” he pressed and his grin turned taunting. “The gay friend… who is obviously into you. Sounds like a date to me.”
“Look, asshat, do you wanna go or don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged “I’ll think about it.”
“Think fast, then,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Because he’ll be here around five to pick me up.”
“Who’s picking you up, bug?” Mom asked, walking around the corner and yawning. Her dark hair was in a messy bun and she was still in last night’s makeup, probably having been too exhausted to wash it off.
“A friend from school.” I went into the kitchen and neared the coffee pot. It was a piece of crap that often leaked, but it worked some days. I started a pot of fresh coffee before turning around. “His name’s Maverick.”
I hadn’t told her about Mav yet. Mainly because I hadn’t known how to describe him, and once she heard he was popular, I knew she’d get all Mama Bear. The popular kids had always been pretty nasty to me, so she was about as untrusting as I was in that sense.
“Thank you for making coffee,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders before giving me a hug. She knew I didn’t like unexpected invasions of my personal space. “You still friends with Ben? When will I get to meet him?”
There was the guilt again. I’d like to say I hadn’t introduced them because the timing hadn’t been right, but the truth was, I didn’t want Ben to see where I lived. He’d seen the outside of my house, but seeing the inside was different. His house was nice, and his parents were so well put together.
“Soon,” I answered, gently pulling out of her hold.
“Your hair’s getting so long, bug,” she said, running her fingers through it before letting me step back more. “Let me know when you want a trim.”
Ever since we were little, she’d always cut mine and Declan’s hair. I’d never actually been inside of an actual salon, but it was okay. She didn’t do a bad job. It got easier when I decided I wanted to let it grow out like my idol, the lead singer of Black Veil Brides. I even did my makeup kind of like him. And when he chopped all of his hair off, I still kept mine long.
I liked it. It was great for when I wanted to hide behind it.
“Oh.” Mom’s face lit up. “I have a surprise for you two. Wait here.”
As she did an excited happy dance down the hall, Declan and I stared after her. Mom was always trying to do nice things for us with what she could afford. I knew she felt guilty for the life we had, but I’d never held it against her.
One day I hoped to have enough money to give us all a better life. I’d applied at several places in Port Haven, but without a phone, it was hard to ever hear back from them, and without reliable transportation, most wrote me off before I’d even turned in the application.
It was like an endless cycle of me always coming in last place, no matter what I did.
“Okay…” Mom poked her head around the corner. Some of her bangs slipped from the bun and fell across her brow. “The weather is gettin’ colder, and I don’t want my boys freezing. So…”
She stepped out and held up coats. They were nice, not the cheap ones she got from second hand clothing stores that had holes in them. She handed one to Declan and the other to me.
“I hope you like them,” she said, lifting her hands to her mouth.
Declan’s looked like one of those preppy boy coats; the kind from like American Eagle or places like it. And mine was a freaking leather coat, very reminiscent of the one my idol wore. I was pretty sure it was fake leather—no way could we afford a real one—but it was heavy, looked awesome with the studs and pockets, and would definitely keep me warm through the winter.
Declan leapt forward and threw his arms around Mom, nearly knocking her small body over. “Thank you! I love it.”
I stood back, holding my coat over my arm, and waited. Once Declan stepped away, I approached and gave her a hug too. Mine wasn’t as enthusiastic as my hyper younger brother, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t as happy.
I just had a hard time expressing strong emotion.
“You’re amazing, Mom. Thank you.” I rested my head on the side of hers and held her, noticing how skinny she was. I got my smaller build from her, but she was becoming way too thin. Probably all the stress from her job.
She brushed the hair out of my face before kissing my cheek. “You’re welcome.”
“How can we afford it?” I asked. Over a month ago, we barely had any food in the house, and now she was able to buy us new coats.
Her blue eyes clouded a little, and it was a look I knew all too well. Because I was the master of it.
“I just got a promotion at work,” she answered before smiling and patting my arm. “Don’t worry about it.”
Of course I worried. How could I not? She worked at a strip club, so a promotion didn’t exactly sound like a good thing.
Since it wasn’t cold enough yet to wear my new coat, I walked to mine and Declan’s room and hung it up in the closet. Then, I looked through the rest of my clothes, wondering if I should change into something else. It didn’t matter really, since all of my clothes were basically the same, but if it was a date, I wanted to look my best.
Maverick would be there soon, so I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The black around my eyes was a bit smudged and faded from wearing it all day, so I opened Mom’s makeup drawer and grabbed her eyeliner.
When I first started dressing like this around thirteen—favoring the emo style—Mom hadn’t even batted an eye. She’d just been like, “Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy. Here. Try this.” And then she’d sharpened her eyeliner pencil and taught me how to apply it.
“Hey, Nosferatu,” Declan said, rapping on the bathroom door before walking in. “I think your boyfriend is here.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I heaved a sigh and looked at my reflection again, fluffing the top of my hair. “Okay. I’m ready.”
We left the bathroom and went into the living room. I wanted to peek out the front window to get a look at Mav before he approached the house. If he was dressed in his same clothes from school, maybe it wasn’t a date and was just a friend thing. But if he’d changed his clothes… well, that could mean something different.
I looked out the window and saw his car, but I didn’t see him.
Crap. I was too late.
A knock sounded, and I straightened up, looking at the door. It had been a while since I’d felt so nervous around Maverick. But in a way, that evening was new territory for us.
“Aren’t you gonna answer it?” Declan asked, crossing his arms and studying me with a mocking expression.
He was such a jerk.
Noticing that Mom and Declan were hovering around me, I rolled my eyes—which seemed to be a recurring thing with me lately. After a second knock came, I opened the door. And my stomach flipped at the sight.
Maverick had definitely changed his clothes. His jeans fit him more snugly, emphasizing the muscles in his legs. He’d put on a blue, button-up shirt that matched the color of his eyes, and the collar was open, revealing the top of the black shirt underneath it. The most impressive thing about him right then, though, was the bashful smile he wore.
“Hey,” he said in a deeper, raspier tone. I was beginning to realize it was one he used when he was nervous.
“Hey.” Why is this so awkward? “Um. Do you wanna come in for a sec?”
His answering smile made the butterflies in my stomach go nuts, fluttering around like they were hyped up on sugar. I guess Maverick was the sugar.
“Sure,” he said.
I opened the door wider and let him in. He was then bombarded by my petite mom and her mixture of curiosity and blatant skepticism. She seemed to tune right into the fact that he was popular. I only hoped she didn’t give him a hard time.
“Hi, I’m Monica. Avery’s mom,” she said, standing in front of him. It nearly made me laugh seeing them so close together. He towered over her by a good five to six inches. “Maverick, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a curt nod and a movie star smile. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
Pretty sure my mom was wowed by him at that point. But, like, how could she not be? Maverick had that effect on people. He wasn’t one of the most popular guys in school because his family was rich or because he was hot. He was popular because he was a damn good person and people genuinely liked to be around him.
And yeah, he was hot too.
Thankfully the introductions didn’t take long. Maverick met Declan next, and surprising to me, Declan decided not to go with us. Not sure why. I didn’t worry, though, since Mom had bought groceries, and I knew he’d be able to eat.
Mom hugged me. “Have fun, bug.”
“Thanks,” I said, quickly returning her embrace. “I hope you don’t have a bad night at work.”
I never told her to ‘have a good night’ because that was like telling a mouse going into a nest of snakes to ‘have fun.’
Before I walked out with Mav, I glanced at my brother, and he smiled. A sly smile, but one nonetheless. I already knew he’d grill me later about how the date went.
***
Once I’d gotten into Mav’s car, my nervousness had slipped away. He was still the same guy. Putting a label on what we were doing—or leaving off that label—didn’t change that fact.
For dinner, he took me to some Chinese restaurant in the nicer part of town, and before we’d even gone inside, I felt inadequate. I could never afford to eat at a place like that, and it didn’t make me feel any better when he said he was paying.
I hated feeling like a freeloader.
“Too much?” Mav asked after we’d been seated at a table in the corner of the restaurant. He moved his gaze throughout the area before looking at me again.
I shrugged. “It’s nice.”
“But?”
“There’s no but,” I said, tensing my shoulders and looking down at the table. There was an ornate scene of cherry blossoms and Chinese writing on the surface, and it was covered with glass. Yep. Super fancy. “Mav… can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he said and then waited.
Right as I was about to respond, the waitress came to our table and took our drink orders.
“What was it you wanted to know?” Maverick asked once she’d left.
“Let’s get our food first,” I said, too anxious to ask the question that’d been eating at my brain all afternoon.
Apparently, the restaurant was an all-you-can-eat buffet, so we didn’t have to order off a menu. We stood and went to the buffet line, and even though it was quiet between us, I still kept close to his side. Once we’d grabbed our plates and were moving down the line, Maverick looked back at me with an adorable grin.
“Just pile your plate with whatever you want,” he said before scooping what looked like broccoli and some kind of meat onto his plate.
“I don’t know what’s good,” I admitted as I looked at all the food, not knowing where to start.
That confession started a huge conversation. Mav told me all about the dishes he loved as we passed them, and I ended up just getting whatever he put on his plate. When I didn’t think my plate could hold anything else, Maverick picked up a biscuit that was covered in sugar, and he placed it on the top of my food pile.
“There. Perfect.” He winked before turning on his heels and going back to our table.
I followed, accidentally looking at his ass. Well, accidentally, as in definitely on purpose, but not my fault. An oxymoron at its finest.
Over dinner, we talked a lot. During the past few weeks, we’d come to know each other a lot better, and we’d hung out together every day at school, but it’d still felt like there was some kind of wall keeping me from him. Or more like him from me.
But that night, I relaxed and answered his questions. Good thing he didn’t ask too in-depth ones. He kept it pretty simple, focusing more on me as a person and what I was into.
“What do you wanna do after graduation?” he asked after eating another piece of General Tso’s chicken. “Are you going to college?”
“I’d like to,” I answered as a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “But I don’t know if it’s in the cards for me.”
“Why not? Your grades are awesome and you’re one of the rare few people who actually enjoy school. What’s holding you back?”
Being poor. Beings seen as a delinquent just because of how I dress and express myself. Being judged for a life that I had no part in making. I was born into an abusive childhood that’s left emotional and physical scars. One that’s screwed me up in the head.
I make myself bleed so I can feel something other than the sick, twisted parasites that creep under my skin and travel through my bloodstream. The cutting releases them. And there are times when I feel so dissociated from life that I have to cut to make sure I’m still here—to bring me back to myself.
I didn’t say any of that. I just held his gaze before looking away. “You wouldn’t understand, Mav.”
He couldn’t understand. Not really. He didn’t have to want for anything in his life. Everything came easy for him. Friends, charm, money. No, I wasn’t mad at him for that. It was just the way it was.
He couldn’t control it any more than I could.
“That’s not fair, Avery,” he said, putting his fork down and furrowing his brow. “If you don’t tell me, of course I won’t get it. You don’t know what I’ll say or think.”
I’d always been great at keeping thoughts to myself. But my fuse was at its end.
“My family isn’t like yours,” I said, maybe a bit too harshly. He wanted honesty, and I was going to give it to him. “My dad isn’t an amazing surgeon who brings home the big bucks. I don’t even know where my dad is right now, and frankly, I don’t care as long as it’s as far away from me as possible. There are days where I have to worry whether Declan and I will be able to eat. Whether our electricity or water will be shut off because the bills aren’t paid. Every single day I worry, Maverick. That my so-called dad will find us again, or that we’ll be kicked out on the streets. Every. Day.”
His eyes had widened as I spoke, and his mouth went agape.
“Wanna know why college isn’t an option for me?” I continued, less angry than before, but still just as serious. “That’s why. I’d love to be an architect. To design things, maybe build them. But I can’t go to college. Not unless I get a scholarship or take out a bunch of loans that I’ll never be able to pay off. And that’s only if my piece of crap dad doesn’t track us down and uproot our lives for the hundredth time.”
It wasn’t until after I’d ranted that I realized I’d let a lot of personal crap slip out in the process; things I didn’t think I was ready for Mav to know.
Seeing the expression on his face knocked all of the irritation out of me.
“I… damn. I’m at a loss here,” he said, visibly struggling. “I’m sorry.”
Shock and sadness crossed his face—which I’d expected, I guess—but I never expected to see guilt. He had no reason to be guilty. For anything.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, looking away from him. “It’s not your problem.”
The weight of my confession was heavier than I’d imagined. Usually, people felt lighter after gushing about their problems, but I only felt worse; like I was in the middle of the ocean with no lifejacket, barely keeping my head above the water, and then having someone apply pressure to my head, trying their hardest to push me under the waves.
It was exhausting.
Sometimes I thought it’d just be easier to stop fighting and drown.
“It is, though,” Maverick countered, reaching across the table and covering my hand with his. “Because I care about you.”
I could only stare at him, not sure if it was real. If he was real. His hand was warm on mine—comforting—and I looked down just as he hooked his pinky with mine.
That definitely felt real.
“You do?” I asked, hoping he could hear me over the instrumental music playing overhead.
“Yeah. More than you probably know,” he said, staring at me before dropping his gaze. A smile lingered in the corner of his lips. “And probably more than what makes sense. Guys aren’t supposed to admit crap like that, but I don’t know. It just feels right.”
His words were honest. It was something about the way he looked at me when he said it. As if he’d admitted to a secret he’d been keeping locked away, and was relieved to finally voice it. It was the type of relief I was supposed to feel after admitting to everything I had, instead of feeling like I was drowning.
And then it occurred to me that maybe… just maybe… he was my lifejacket that’d keep me holding on just a little longer.