Heartache and Hope: Heartache Duet Book One

by Jay McLean

  “Peter’s flying in tonight,” Trevor says, and my stomach turns, remembering what it was like the last time he was here. “He’ll be over first thing tomorrow morning.”

  I go to tell him no, that I’ll be okay and that Peter doesn’t need to come, that I don’t want him here… but then I look at Trevor, see the strain in his shoulders and the torment in his eyes, and my guilt… my guilt forces me to smile, to say, “I can’t wait.”

  Connor: You ruined me with a single kiss, Ava Elizabeth Diana.

  My lips twitch, but I fight back a smile. After the day I’ve had, the last thing I need is to be reminded of the one thing I want, the one thing I can’t have. No matter how desperately I yearn for it.

  I squash my selfish desires and reply.

  Ava: You said you were curious. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?

  Connor: And a cat has 9 lives, so does that mean you owe me 8 more kisses?

  I stare at the text, ignore the slow breaking of my heart. What I’d give for eight more greedy moments with him.

  “Ava?” Mom calls from her bedroom and I drop my phone, along with all my delusions, and I go to her.

  I’ll always go to her.

  Because she’ll always come first.

  First and forever.

  Chapter 27

  Connor

  I’m leaning up against my car the day after the Just Once Kiss, looking down at my phone, rereading the past few days’ worth of text conversations between Ava and me. And without fail, I keep trying to scroll for more after the last one I sent. She didn’t reply, and I can’t help but overthink all the possible reasons. Maybe she’s playing games, or maybe she got distracted or maybe—and this is the conclusion of my own mind games—maybe she doesn’t want a repeat.

  Maybe I’m a shit kisser.

  A complete disappointment.

  Sighing, I start writing a message to let her know I’m outside, but their front door opens, stopping me.

  I wish for Ava.

  I get Trevor instead.

  He makes his way down the driveway and stops a few feet away. “You okay?” he asks, eyeing me dubiously.

  I run my hand over my clothes, try to straighten out my thoughts. “Yeah, why?”

  His eyebrows lower, his lips turned up in disgust. “Were you looking at porn?”

  “No. What the fuck?” I mumble. “I was just studying some game tape,” I lie.

  “I heard about your game. Congrats, man.”

  I stand taller. “Thanks.”

  “So, listen, my old man’s getting remarried…” he says, pausing when my eyes narrow. I remember what Rhys said about him walking out on them, and a flicker of anger fills my thoughts. “I know…” Trevor shrugs. “He’s not the greatest man out there, but he’s my dad, so I kind of have to be there.”

  “I get it.”

  “Anyway,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’m going to be away for a few days…”

  Hope replaces my anger.

  “…so, I’m having a friend come stay with Ava while I’m gone.”

  And hope dies in my chest. I point to myself. “I could stay with her.”

  He chuckles, pats my shoulder and squeezes. Tight. “You could,” he replies. Then his eyes harden when they glare into mine, making sure I’m focused on his next words. “But you won’t.”

  My lips purse. “Got it.”

  A car drives past us, turning at the end of the cul-de-sac, and parks behind mine.

  “That’s him now,” Trevor states, already making his way toward it.

  I can’t ignore the inkling of jealousy when I see the car—a Mercedes G-Wagon—or the guy. He’s around Trevor’s age with surfer boy good looks that would be there even if money wasn’t. And the jealousy turns into animosity at the thought that this is the guy who’ll be spending the next few days with Ava, seeing her when I can’t, talking to her face-to-face and not through a fucking phone screen. He’ll see her just woken up, or just before bed. Hell, he’ll probably even see her in bed. Bile rises to my throat, but I push it away the moment Ava appears on her porch.

  “Ava, Peter’s here!” Trevor calls out, looking right at her.

  Ava’s smile seems unrestrained as she rushes down the steps and greets the guy, completely ignoring the fact that I’m here.

  My nemesis—aka Peter—wraps his arms around her the moment she’s close enough. The hug lasts too long, and I want to clear my throat and yell, hello, I’m here, too. But that would be pathetic. More pathetic than me just standing here watching them. Peter pulls back an inch, takes her in from head to breasts and back again.

  Yeah, I already don’t like this guy, and I know nothing about him.

  He holds her face in both his hands, and I want to rip off those hands and beat him to death with them. “Bad night, huh?” he asks, and there’s no possible way he would know that just from looking at her.

  Ava finally, finally, notices me standing on the sidewalk like a lost fucking puppy and releases her embrace. She tells him, “Just give me a second.”

  I stand, my hands in my pockets and my pride in her grasp. “I’m going to be late this morning.”

  That’s it?

  Where’s my fucking hug?

  I know I shouldn’t be this upset, so I do my best to hide it. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, tugging on the lapels of my blazer. “I should be there by lunch.”

  Nodding, I glance up to see Peter on their porch watching our every move. Ava asks, “I’ll meet you at our usual spot?”

  Peter crosses his arms, his eyes narrowed.

  Ava tugs on my blazer again. “Okay?”

  My eyes drift back to the girl in front of me, the morning sun hitting her eyes, turning them orange. I smile when she does. “Yeah. I’ll be waiting.”

  On her toes, she reaches up, plants a kiss on my cheek. It’s not the kiss I wanted, the kiss I thought I needed, but it’s something. And something sure beats all the uncertainty I’d been drowning in.

  Lunch comes around, and I skip the cafeteria just so I can get those few minutes more with her. I’m at our spot before she is, so I wait and wait and wait. My excitement turns to confusion, and then confusion turns to worry. I send her a text, ask if everything’s okay. Then I wait some more. By the time the warning bell sounds and there’s still no reply, that worry turns to envy, to jealousy.

  And I hate that it does. Because I realize that this reaction burning a hole inside me isn’t because of this guy’s car or his looks or even the fact that he gets to spend time with Ava. It’s because whoever the hell he is, Trevor trusts him enough to be around her, and more? Ava trusts him enough to be around her mom… something I haven’t earned.

  And something I’ll probably never get a chance to.

  Chapter 28

  Connor

  It’s nearly midday Saturday, and the only communication I’ve had with Ava was a text last night with a simple “sorry.”

  There was nothing else to accompany it, and I don’t even know if she’s sorry she stood me up yesterday or sorry she didn’t let me know or sorry because she’s giving one or all of my eight kisses to a guy sleeping in her house.

  My brain is broken. Obviously.

  Which is probably why I’m sitting on the front porch with my phone in my hand, staring at the unsent message that’s been flashing on my screen for the last half hour.

  It says:

  Hi

  Because I don’t know what else to say without sounding as desperate as I feel.

  I delete the text and pocket my phone, then just stare out into the street as if it’s my only care in the world. The guy opposite us is mowing his lawn; a few houses over, someone is painting their porch. A woman is out walking a dog past a guy washing his car. And then some kids show up on their bikes, backpacks on. It’s the same punk kids from before who TP’d Ava’s house. I sit higher, watch closer. They ride in circles at the end of the road, their voices low. One o
f them gets off his bike, the biggest of them all, and removes his backpack. Crouched down and staring at Ava’s place, he pulls out a water bomb.

  I’m on my feet, walking down my steps before he even raises his arm. “You should probably think twice before throwing that!”

  All four boys glare at me. The one with the water bomb yells, “Fuck you!”

  Fuck me?

  No.

  I yell, “You suck your paci with that mouth, you little bitch!” Not my greatest moment, but it’s all I could come up with. I’m barefoot, but it doesn’t stop me from attempting to chase after them. The minute they see me at full height, they’re on their bikes, water bombs discarded. Their laughing grates on my nerves, and they don’t leave immediately. Instead, they circle the road, waiting for me to make my next move.

  I pick up a stick.

  The smallest of the rat-pack yells, mocking, “You should probably think twice before throwing that!”

  Then from behind me, water flies over my shoulder, just missing me. I turn to see Peter with a power hose, his eyes narrowed. “Get the hell outta here, you shitheads.”

  The kids start to bail, and Peter follows them with the hose, attacking their backs. They get too far for the water to reach, so they stop, turn to us. One of them shouts, “Oh, look! Your boyfriend came to save you.”

  “Fuck these kids,” Peter mumbles, standing next to me. “How fast can you run with no shoes?”

  “Fast,” I respond.

  “Ready?”

  We jet, my feet hitting the pavement hard. The kids take off, one of them shouting, “You need to get your wisdom teeth removed!”

  And another adds, “Yeah. So you can fit more dicks in your mouth!”

  Peter busts out a laugh, slowing to a stop. I do the same.

  “Jesus Christ,” he says, watching them turn the corner. “Insults sure have amped up since I was a kid.” He offers me his fist for a bump when we turn back toward my house. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

  For a second, I’d forgotten that he was my enemy. I bump his fist anyway. “Connor.”

  “I know who you are,” he says in a non-threatening tone.

  My chest swells at the idea that Ava mentioned me.

  “Trevor told me about you. Or warned me actually.”

  “Warned you?” I ask incredulously.

  He shakes his head. “Not like that, just that you and Ava have a thing going on.”

  A Thing. That’s what we’re calling it? Cool.

  “He said to make sure you weren’t creeping into her bedroom at night.”

  I wish. “Nah,” I say. “It’s not like that.” We stop in front of Ava’s house, and I help him wind up the hose. I ask, as nonchalant as I can, “How is she anyway? I haven’t heard from her for a couple days.”

  Peter shrugs. “She’s been busy with her mom and all. I think she has a harder time when Trevor’s gone, and I’m no back-up Trevor. I’m just here for the muscle.”

  Nodding, I pretend to understand what he’s saying, but the truth is, besides the basics of what Ava’s told me, I have no idea what she goes through on the daily.

  A car I recognize as Rhys’s drives past us, turns, and parks in front of my house. There are a couple guys from the team with him. And Karen. The others stay in the car while he gets out and approaches, his gaze on Peter. To me, he says, “What’s up, dipshit?” And to Peter, he says, “Hey, man. Home for a break?” They shake hands as if they’ve known each other their entire lives.

  Peter answers, “Just staying with Ava while Trevor’s gone.”

  “Oh yeah. His dad’s wedding, right?”

  Peter nods. And my stomach drops. It’s like I’m right here but in another dimension. Clueless to the real world. I don’t know how Rhys knows Peter or how he knows what goes on in Ava’s life, if it’s small-town gossip or if Ava’s talking to Rhys the same way she talks to me.

  But more.

  More unreserved and open, and I feel… I feel so fucking insignificant.

  Rhys says, pointing to me, “Get your ass dressed. We're going to the sports park.”

  “Don’t we have that showcase today?”

  After a scoff, Rhys mumbles, “Yeah, in like four hours. Let’s go.”

  I sigh, not really in the mood to socialize. “Is Mitch going?”

  “Nah, he can’t make it.”

  Good.

  Then Peter says, “Maybe he’s getting his wisdom teeth removed.”

  I can’t help but chuckle.

  “What?” asks Rhys, confused.

  And I say, “You know, so he can fit more dicks in his mouth.”

  Peter laughs, and Rhys glances between us. Then Karen appears from thin air and sidles up next to me. “You coming?” she asks.

  “Yes,” Rhys answers for me. “Hurry your ass up. I’m hungry as shit.”

  “I’ll go get dressed,” I say at the same time Peter tells Karen, “Hi, I’m Peter.”

  Karen giggles. “I know who you are. You and Trevor used to chase Ava and me around the backyard with piss-filled water pistols.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re that girl?” Then he eyes her up and down. “Damn, talk about a glow up.”

  “Get dressed already!” Rhys yells, shoving me toward my front door.

  I throw my hands up in surrender. “I’m going.” I glance toward Ava’s house, shocked to see her standing in her doorway watching us all. I lift my hand in a wave. She shuts the door between us.

  Ava

  “What’s going on outside?” Mom asks, agitated.

  I close the door, jealousy and resentment forming an ache in my chest too large to ignore. I plaster on a smile and sit back down at the table, moving Mom’s speech therapy flashcards around aimlessly. “It’s just some kids from school,” I mumble.

  “Are they messing with the house again?” she asks, her eyes narrowed, fist balled on the table.

  “No, Mama. They’re just out there talking to Connor.”

  She snorts. “Who the hell is Connor?”

  “He’s…” He’s a boy who deserves to have the life being offered to him. “He’s no one.”

  Connor

  In my room, between getting dressed, I text Ava.

  Connor: Rhys is forcing me out of the house, then I have the showcase this afternoon, but I’m free after if you want me to come by.

  Connor: We can sit on your front porch for all of twenty seconds and watch the grass grow. I don’t really care. I just want to see you.

  I wait a good five minutes for her to respond, ignoring Rhys on my doorstep telling me to hurry the fuck up. I send a text to Dad sleeping in the next room and tell him where I’ll be.

  Then I send another message to Ava.

  Connor: I just really miss you is all. If you never want to talk about what happened—the kiss thing—that’s cool. Just don’t shut me out, Ava. Please.

  Ava

  “So, I met Connor,” Peter says, sitting on the couch next to me while Mom sits in her room, alone, staring at the wall because she’d rather be doing that than be around me right now.

  Today is a negative day. I just haven’t worked out how bad it is yet.

  “And?” I ask, reading back the stream of texts Connor had just sent me.

  “And he seems like a decent kid.”

  I think about Connor and how much things will change for him now that he’s in the spotlight. He’ll have more friends than he knows what to do with, and girls like Karen… and then there’s me. And right now, he thinks that I’ll be enough, but that won’t last forever, and even after an incredible life-changing kiss, nothing’s changed. I’ll still be me, always, and he’ll get sick of the wanting and waiting, and he’ll move on. I reread the message: Just don’t shut me out, Ava. “He’s a dreamer,” I mumble. A disbeliever.

  Peter asks, “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head, rid the fog. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  Connor

  Sitting in the fron
t seat of Rhys’s car, Oscar moans, rests his head on the window. Next to me, Chad, another senior on the team, does the same. “What’s up with you guys?” I ask.

  “Not so loud,” Chad groans.

  Karen looks past Chad in the middle of the back seat and tells me, “They’re hung-over.”

  “Oh man,” I laugh out. “Big night?”

  Karen’s lips purse. “Uh-huh. My birthday party last night. I invited you but…”

  Shit. I’d completely forgotten. “I had a ton of homework,” I lie.

  “Sure,” she says, offering a painstakingly fake smile.

  We get to the sports park and hit the food trucks first. Rhys seems to get one of everything while the other two guys pick at their food. Karen’s sitting next to me, and I don’t really know why she’s here, but the other guys don’t seem to mind it so it must be a regular thing. Rhys lets out an ear-piercing belch when he’s done, gets up, and smacks the other two guys upside their heads. “Let’s hit the cages,” he orders, and the two get up groaning, but follow him anyway. I’m still eating my food and so is Karen, so we awkwardly sit in silence. I don’t know what to say, and she doesn’t speak. I check my phone. Still no Ava.

  “Look at those dumbasses,” Karen says, pointing to the cages. Oscar’s in the cage, his helmet on backward, balls flying at his head. “You know what they say is the best thing to do when balls are coming at your face?”

  “What?” I ask.

  She faces me and says, smirking, “Don’t open your mouth.”

  A chuckle erupts from deep in my throat. “Hey, how come you don’t seem as hung-over as them?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t drink.”

  “Serious?” I ask, unable to hide my shock.

  She laughs at my response. “We have the same trick, you and me. Walk around with a full cup and no one bothers you…” she says knowingly.