All That Matters

by Sadie Rose

  "Is that a question?" I ask.

  "Maybe? Or maybe an observation." he says.

  "Ok. What of it?" I answer.

  "She's your sister, for one thing, I just want you to keep that in mind." Dad frowns at me.

  "Stepsister" I immediately correct. He looks at me closely.

  "Your sister, either way, your sister living down the hall." I was getting pretty annoyed by this point.

  "I'm not sure really what your point is." I say.

  "I'm glad you two are friends," he says "I just want to be sure you stay just friends" I roll my eyes. What Ava and I do isn't his fucking business. Besides, we aren't doing anything. "I'm being serious Mason; Ava couldn't handle being more than a friend even if she wasn't your sister it would cause too many problems." Fuck my life.

  "Dad, we are just friends. I'm aware of what Ava is capable of ok?" He runs a hand through his hair and huffs out an irritated sign

  "I know you think I'm the enemy here. I'm not. I'm trying to look out for Ava but I'm trying to look out for you too, Mason. You aren’t ready to handle someone with Ava's problems." I guess he picked up on my annoyance. Damn, I thought I hid that better.

  "You're getting all worked up for no reason Dad. Ava and I are just friends. Nothing more." Was I lying? I don't know. Maybe? Right now, we are just friends. Do I intend to stay just friends? No fucking way in hell. But I won't do anything until I know that Ava is ready. I don't care if that's in a month or in a year. She's already mine. She just doesn't know it yet. And until she knows it there's no reason for him to. Dad looked doubtful though so I'm not sure how well I was selling this story. He finally nodded and got up.

  "Ok good, I'm glad we had this talk" he said as he walked to the door.

  "Yep good talk" I answered.

  I pretty much slacked off all day yesterday so today I'm swamped with homework. When Ava comes down later that morning, I tell her I've got homework and ask if she wants to hang out in here with me while I do it. She agrees and goes back upstairs to her room for her stuff. She comes back with a pink bag full of stuff and she's carrying Kitty or Baby or whatever its name is. I'm sitting at my desk, I have so much homework, I don't know how I'll finish it all. The workload at this school is insane. And I spend almost all my free time with Ava. I'm really letting my homework slip. Ava stretches out on my bed on her stomach. Her cat settles beside her as she starts pulling out sketchbooks and shit. I glance at her and my breath catches. She's wearing a tiny, frilly, girly skirt that barely covers her ass and long pink glittery socks that go up to her thighs. Her hair is in two ponytails and the ends trail down her back and over the bed and all over the place. How the fuck am I supposed to think about school or homework with her looking like that? I grit my teeth determinedly and turn back to my essay. Somehow, I lose myself in the words in front of me and manage to finish the fucking essay. I hadn't heard a peep from Ava, so I figure she probably dozed off. But when I glance over at her she's still in the exact same position drawing slowly.

  I get up and walk over to her. She's drawing us. Me and her on a beach somewhere. I've never seen her drawings, before she's very good. In the picture her head is on my shoulder, we are holding hands as gentle waves lick at the shore. The sky is dark but full of stars.

  "This is beautiful Ava" I say. I'm a little bit in awe. I stretch out beside her. “Can I see?" I ask reaching for her sketchbook. She shrugs and hands it to me. I flip through the pages. Every drawing is amazing. There are more of us on the beach together and some of me alone on the beach. In some of them I look happy. There's one picture she drew of me looking out onto the ocean and I look so sad and lost. It almost hits too close to home. There's one of us sitting with our feet in the water our clothes are wet, and we are laughing. I can't believe her talent. She's amazing. "These are really, really good Ava. Do you take art lessons?"

  Thank you, yes. My art teacher comes twice a week. It's the only class I actually like. She grins as she types that out. "Do you have more drawings?" I ask her. She laughs again.

  Books and books and more books full.

  "I wanna see them," I tell her. "I wanna see all of them. These are awesome."

  It'd be easier if you come to my room then, there are too many for me to bring them all down here.

  I try to hide my surprise and act nonchalant as I say "I thought you didn't like people in your room? I thought that's why we always hang out in my room?" she frowns and chews on her bottom lip a little. I regret saying that now. I should have just said ok.

  I don't like people in my room. But mostly it's strangers, I don't like strangers in my room.

  She looks like she's trying to figure something out, so I just wait quietly for her to go on.

  My room feels safe to me. It's familiar. Everything is almost exactly like it was before I went away. When I'm in there it almost feels like I never left, you know? It’s almost like it was all a dream or a nightmare? My room is always quiet, it's always just the exact way I left it. May might pick something up or straighten something but mostly no one touches anything in there. It's just MY space. I don't want someone to go up there that doesn't get that. I guess that sounds stupid.

  She's blushing and she looks away. I can tell she's embarrassed. I nod my head because I do understand what she means. "I do get that Ava. It's not stupid." I say as I reach for her hand. "You need a safe, quiet place that's just for you. Tell me about your room" I say because I'm curious.

  I'm not sure what to tell you? What do you want to know?

  "Tell me whatever I need to know for you to feel comfortable with me being in there." I answer because, to be honest, that's all I care about.

  Ok well, it has all my stuff from I guess since I was born. All my, I don't know, my treasures? She laughs looking embarrassed again.

  Things that people gave me over the years, gifts from Anson or my mom or dad. To me it's full of good memories, happy memories. There's not anything in there that is sad or that makes me sad or scared. There are no bad memories. When I'm in my room it's like everywhere my eye lands is a happy thought, a happy memory. Every doll, every picture, every music box. I'm not saying I never remember bad things while I'm in my room. I do, I remember things from when I was away or sometimes, I have bad dreams. But those things didn't happen in there. It just feels really safe and happy.

  "Do you think you would be ok with me going in there?" I ask her. I'm very, very, serious right now. I know Ava letting me in her room would be a huge step for her and a huge show of trust. I'm curious as hell too because I know that I'll learn so much about Ava from her room. About her now and a lot about the kind of little girl she was. She doesn't look like this is a big deal to her though. She sat up while we were talking and she's facing me. We are sitting cross-legged on my bed and she's smiling.

  Honestly Mason, I don't think I'd be bothered by you coming in my room. It doesn't even feel like a big deal. It's not as big as telling Mom and Anson I could write. We can go up there if you want.

  "Now?" I ask maybe a tad too eagerly. She giggles.

  Sure, if you want to. I need to take Kitty back up anyway.

  Fucking hell this is amazing but I'm trying to be casual. "Sure, that's cool" I say. She leaves her stuff spread out on my bed and gathers her cat and iPad up. We head up to her room. Ava's room is on the third floor of her wing of the house and I'm on the second floor of mine so to get to Ava's room we gotta go up a flight of stairs. We get to her hallway and to be honest I'm a little nervous. I feel like I'm breaking a rule by being up here, which I technically am. Dad did make it clear this area is off-limits but I'm pretty sure that was just out of respect for Ava's privacy.

  We get to her room and she opens the door and leads me inside. Ava closes her door behind us, whereas I'm always careful to leave my door open. She walks across a huge sitting room which is bigger than Erica's bedroom sitting room and bathroom all put together. Seriously I've been inside apartments smaller than Ava's sitting room. She walks through a pink
door into her bathroom and I hesitate at the door, but she motions me in. I look around as she puts her cat on some papers in a shallow pan off to one corner.

  Obviously, this is my bathroom.

  She grins at me. "Wow it's fucking huge." I grin back at her. She walks over to another pink door and opens it but doesn't step inside.

  My closet.

  She rolls her eyes and laughs as I peek inside and it's like a mini store. There are so many clothes, shoes, purses and shit I'm a little terrified at the thought of going in. She points at another door, also pink.

  Toilet.

  She types out and leads me through another door.

  This is my bedroom.

  I see what she meant by everything was exactly like she had left it. We move around her room and I look at the music boxes, snow globes, jewelry boxes and pictures that are scattered over nearly every surface. I pick one up "Where did you get this one?" I ask. She smiles up at me as she answers.

  My dad brought it back for me from a business trip to Italy. Anytime my dad went away on a trip he would always bring me a present home. It didn't matter if he had been gone a night or a week.

  She turns the carved box over in my hand and winds up the tiny key on the bottom and soft music fills the room.

  This is one of my favorites.

  Ava smiles at me. "What about these pictures here?" I ask pointing to some pictures on the shelf beside us. There is one of her and Anson, they look young. There's one of her mom and a man I assume is her dad and several others. She picks them up one by one telling me about them.

  This one Anson and I were little. Oh my God, I don't know I'm maybe two I think, and he's like five. It's Easter and we had a huge Easter egg hunt here at the house. I don't actually remember it obviously, But Anson does. He says I kept stealing his eggs.

  Ava is laughing at the memory and I laugh too. She looks so tiny in a frilly white dress; her hair is the same white-blond that it is now. Anson is dressed in a white suit and they are both holding baskets and smiling. "What about this one" I ask, holding up another picture. She smiles as she answers.

  That's my mom and dad when they first started dating. It used to sit on the table by my mom's bed up in her room. I always loved it. One of my earliest memories is of this picture. My mom said that even as a baby I loved to hold it. I think I was four or five when I convinced my mom to let me have it.

  She picks another picture up.

  This is me on my first horse, I got her for my fifth birthday. Isn't she pretty? Her name is Misty, I still have her. But I haven't ridden her in years. My mom rides her though. You saw her in the stables. Do you remember?

  The picture is of her on a light grey horse. It has a pink saddle and pink halters and ropes or whatever. She looks like a fairytale horse or something. Her mane and tail are like curled with braids, and ribbons and even flowers in it. It's pretty obvious that Ava was very loved and very spoiled as a little girl. We move around the room, I ask her about different things, and she tells me. She was right everything has a memory or story to it. Ava seems a little different in this room. More relaxed maybe? We go into another room which is full of toys and dolls. There are so many I'm a little overwhelmed, it’s like her own toy store. "So, Ava" I tease her in a very serious tone "would you say you were spoiled as a child?" She laughs hysterically at that as we walk back into her sitting room.

  What! Me? Oh my God, I was the most spoiled child you ever saw!

  She’s still laughing as she walks over to a huge shelf and starts pulling out sketchbooks and sits on the carpet on the floor. I sit down across from her and she hands me a book and lays the others beside us. "Were you a brat as a child?" I ask curiously.

  I don't think so. I don't remember ever pitching fits or being rude or demanding. I'm sure I was bad at times and threw tantrums, but I think I was a pretty well behaved. A better one to ask would be my mom to Anson. Of course, I'm gonna say I was good!

  She grins up at me as I flip through her books. "That's a very honest answer" I laugh. "I bet you were a good child; I can't imagine you as a brat."

  Ya, right, you call me a brat all the time.

  "Oh, you’re definitely a brat now." I tease her laughing. She does that thing where she rolls her eyes and sticks her little tongue out at me. I pretend to try to grab her tongue and she shrieks with laughter. I flip through her sketchbooks asking about different drawings. We spend hours up there laughing and looking through her stuff. At one point she leaves and gets her kitty and it curls up in her lap. I can see how much she's improved over time. She even has some books of drawing from before she "went away". Even at five or six she showed a talent for art. When It's time for dinner I'm reluctant to leave. I love how Ava is in this room. Her guard is completely down. I feel like I learned so much about her. I feel so close to her in here, it's like we are in our own little bubble, like we are the only two people in the world.

  Chapter 30

  Ava

  The man walks into the room. I'm in here alone. I'm scared of the man. I don't know how long I've been here. It doesn't seem like it's been that long, a few days maybe. I know my daddy is a very powerful and rich person. He's going to find me and make this bad man pay for stealing me away. I've just got to be patient and give him time. So, I try to sit still and be quiet and wait but it's hard and sometimes I cry. I remember one time when a little girl at the park pushed me down and made me hurt my knee I started crying. My brother told me never to let people who are mean to me see me cry because then they just want to hurt you more. So, I try not to ever cry in front of the mean man. But it's hard. I'm scared and I'm hungry. I'm really, really hungry. The man stands over me now. He crouches down so his face is close to mine. His breath smells like peppermint and coffee.

  “Are you good? Or just smart" he whispers as he reaches out to touch my hair. I don't want his hands on me. Never show fear, never show fear, never show fear. Bullies like fear. This man is a bully. I can't show him fear. I don't answer him. I hope he doesn't see that I've been crying. I hope he doesn't see that I'm afraid of him.

  "If you're smart, you will be good" I don't understand what that means but he laughs, then laughs some more. He laughs like that's the funniest thing he's ever said. The man tosses a bag on the mat beside me and walks out laughing. I hear him laughing as locks the door. After he leaves, I open the bag. Inside are two peanut butter sandwiches, a couple of bags of chips, some raisins and three granola bars. He never brings me anything to drink. I guess because there's a sink by the toilet with a cup beside it. In the bag, there is also a toothbrush, toothpaste, a book, and a barbie doll. I'm so hungry I want to eat all the food in the bag, but it's been so long since the man brought me food and I don't know when he will be back with more. I know I need to save as much food as I can. My fingers shake as I tear a sandwich in half and very slowly eat it. I chew each bite for as long as I can before I swallow it.

  I'm sitting on the mat playing with the barbie when I hear the door unlock. Why is he back? Maybe he's bringing me more food? He's never come twice in one day before. But the man doesn't walk through the door. Instead, a woman walks in. My heart leaps! I'm saved! I knew my daddy would find me! The lady closes the door behind her and locks it. I frown a little. Why is she locking the door? Shouldn't we be leaving? She walks over to me. Her high heels click on the dirty floor. I look at her but it's the man again, only this time he's dressed like a woman. He has a wig and makeup on too. Why is he playing dress up? I shrink away from him.

  "Look how dirty you are!" He says in an angry voice. "Hasn't mommy told you little girls don't play in the dirt!" I'm confused she's not my mommy. It's like he wants to play pretend, but I don't want to play. I just want to go home!

  "Look at your hair! It's all dirty and matted! What have you been doing?" He shrieks at me. He seems very angry. He snatches my hair into his fist and yanks me up.

  "We can’t play with you looking like this! What will the neighbors think? They will think I'm a bad moth
er!" He yanks my hair again and slaps my face.

  "You little bitch, that’s what you want isn’t it!" He's yelling at me and starts dragging me from the room. I forget about not crying when a bully hurts you and start to sob. I learn it's better when the man comes into the room. It's never, never good when the woman comes.

  I push the remnants of the nightmare away. I haven't had a nightmare in a long time. I think it has been a couple of weeks. Or if I did, I didn't remember it when I woke up. I try to push the nightmare away. It's been over a week since my birthday and at first, it was a little bit weird to talk to people even through text. It's starting to feel natural. I have doctor visits today and I don't want to go. I'd rather go riding with my mom again. We have gone riding almost every day since my birthday. Sometimes we pack a picnic and ride out to the meadow and eat surrounded by the flowers. Today though my doctors are coming. I have two that I have to meet with today. I get up and get dressed. I don't feel cheerful today. I feel grumpy. I stay up in my room until my mom comes to get me.

  "Come on Ava your doctor is here to see you."

  I don't want to Mom. Why do I have to go?

  "It's important Ava. You don't have to talk to them remember?" She answers. Most the time I don't get grumpy when my doctor visits, but I don't like when I have to see them both on the same day. It takes too long. They take the whole day and I don't get to do other things.

  "You didn't mind last week when Dr. Brinkley came."

  Because it was JUST Dr. Brinkley.

  "You don’t like Dr. Avery?" Mom asks looking surprised.

  I don't like any of them.

  Mom frowns "Why don’t you like them baby?" I don’t answer her. She sighs, sounding frustrated. "Can you please come down?" I get up and follow her down the stairs. I always meet my doctors and my teachers in the same room. It is a big room with tall windows and has soft sofas and chairs in navy blue and grey scattered around. There are tables here and there as well, Mom has converted it into a school room/ doctor’s office. When I walk in Dr. Avery is sitting in a navy chair writing on her notepad.