by Holly Ryan
I swallow. Then I say quietly, “But you’re with Julia.”
His eyes widen. He releases my chin. “I’m what?”
I wipe the corner of my eye with my sleeve. “Aren’t you?”
“With Julia? No. I’m not.” He straightens his back, but he remains on the ground. “Why would you think that?”
“How could I not think that? You two came here together, for crying out loud. Alone. But together. You know.”
He purses his lips and nods. “Yes, we did come here together. She asked me to pick her up because she didn’t have a ride. Hey.” He takes hold of my chin again. “I tried to make it as clear as possible that it wasn’t anything more than that.” He tries to smile, but something’s now broken within him. “I’ve been trying to do that for a while, actually. I’m not sure it’s working.”
Looking again into that reflection of mine in his eyes, I believe him. He’s not with Julia. Julia is … she’s Julia. She’s a she-player. How could I have been wrong this whole time? How could Hannah have been wrong? How could everything in my fucking life have been so wrong up to now?
“So…you two aren’t together,” I say without thinking.
He shakes his head.
“You’ve never been together.”
He shakes his head again.
“Do you … want to be together?” I can’t believe I’m being so bold, but this is my way of dancing around the subject of Julia’s undeniable hotness.
“No,” he says quickly. Then he says, “The only person I want to be with is right here.” He takes my hand and the butterflies return. “I’ve known it since the moment I first saw you.”
He pauses, giving those butterflies a chance to multiply within me.
A brief look of panic washes over him, and he seems to correct himself: “…when you fell in the hallway.”
I don’t drop my mouth in amazement.
I don’t turn around and assume he must have meant someone else, as if anyone else was actually behind me.
Instead, I lean myself forward and I hug him. Because for once, someone gets me. I’ve connected with someone, and I have a feeling I’m going to come away from it a better person.
I believe him. I actually trust him. And it’s the greatest feeling in the world.
My weight falls forward, and he instantly catches me, hugging me back and resting his face against my hair. His hand cups the back of my head. I inhale his freshly-washed-skin scent, the one with that hint of Sandalwood lingering about, as a tear falls down my cheek. My hair cascades over his shoulder and down his arm, and I watch his muscles roll in and out as he lightly rubs my head with affection.
Everything has felt so wrong lately. Everything but this. This, right here … this feels so very, incredibly right.
And now, it seems all I have to worry about is that lingering problem called Cole. I still haven’t seen him since I walked away with that strong strut – I’m not even sure he’s still here at all, come to think of it. But I’d rather not hang around to find out.
I lift my head off Ethan’s shoulder. “Do you want to get out of here?”
He helps me up and we make our way through the guests and across the deck.
We’re inside the house again, away from the exposure of the deck but now in the middle of the music and the intrusive crowd.
He must have thought I meant get out of the gazebo.
I look up at him. “I mean really get out of here.”
He nods. “Wait here.”
Ethan
I know what she meant. I want to leave this place, too.
But I could have sworn I saw Cole climb this skinny staircase when Avery and I approached. I caught a glimpse of him slinking away behind us as we stood near the front door.
I don’t want to upset Avery any more tonight, and since I totally caught on to the fact that her and Cole do not get along, I don’t say anything. And if he really is up there, like I’m pretty sure he is, there’s something I need to do before I leave with her. I need to find him, ask what happened and tell him what I think. I need to know what made her react the way he did, to make sure it won’t happen again. I could just ask Avery herself, of course, and I plan to do that – but it’s too soon after the event, and I’m way too curious by nature. If Avery and I are going to be together, we need all the clean air surrounding us that we can get.
I glance down the staircase at Avery. She’s still waiting patiently where I left her, twiddling her thumbs and watching people pass, giving them all polite but awkward little smiles.
I can’t keep her waiting long.
She catches my eye. I wave, and she waves back. Her shoulders relax when she sees me, as though the sight of me alone makes her sigh.
I love this already. I love us already.
As I continue my steps, it gets darker and darker. I’m at the top of the staircase and now I’m starting to regret this idea. I’m not so sure I want to know what’s going on up here.
The only light source comes from a lamp on one side of the wall; a strange throwback to medieval times that doesn’t seem fitting for this otherwise modern house. I hear nothing. There’s no one here.
Then Cole crosses the hallway several feet ahead of me.
“Cole!” I yell.
That gets his attention; he stops and faces me, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
“What are you doing here, Harrington?” he says. His voice is raised; it has to be to cross the distance between us.
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Ah, man. Alright. Give me a minute.” Then he disappears.
Okay then. I’ll just wait here. In this dark, creepy hallway, all alone with this out-of-place solitary, creepy lamp. There’s nothing around me but the bustle of people a few feet below me and the thumping of bass through the walls.
And a few minutes later, the hall is still dark. I’m leaning against the wall with my hands in my front pockets, trying to look as casual as possible in case anyone should appear from out of nowhere. And then, someone does. From the shadows of the darkness, someone moves. I uncross my arms. At first I think it’s Cole. It must be him; I haven’t seen anyone else up here. But the figure is much smaller than Cole, and shorter, too – this is definitely a girl, not a boy. And she’s walking toward me as though she’s recognized me immediately.
When she gets to the edge of the light, I get why she’s coming toward me so forcefully.
“Julia. What are you–”
She leans in close to me and in one swift motion wraps her hands around the sides of my waist. She leans her head back, looking up at me, and parts her lips. No one’s ever tried harder to be seductive than she is right now.
“What do you mean, what am I doing? What are you doing?”
She looks down and takes my hand in hers. She brings one up to the side of her face, pressing her cheek against it.
“I like you, Ethan,” she says.
I can feel the movements of her mouth as she speaks. It’s oddly intimate. She looks up, straight into my eyes. This is the seduction she’s been waiting to pile on; even her voice, which is animalistic, low and gruff.
Her hand still controlling mine, she begins to lower it, trailing both our hands together, down over the lines of her neck and onto the top of her chest. When I see she’s not going to stop, I pull away, my hand slipping out of hers instantly and with a natural ease. I did it so fast that she’s left blinking, confused at the loss.
“What’s wrong?” she says.
As if she should be confused. I know she’s seen Avery and me around school. She must have noticed the ways I defended her when no one else would.
She puts her hands on her hips. “Is this about that … that … Avery girl?” She spits the words.
She’s mad. I don’t say anything, which I know is a mistake. I don’t even try to leave, which I know is just as big of a mistake.
“What the hell, Ethan? Where did she come from? You and me, we li
ked each other first.” She jabs her finger into my chest.
Now I have to speak up. “I never liked you, Julia. Not like that.”
She furrows her brow and takes a step back. At least she’s doing something right; if anything, I would’ve expected her to lunge at me.
She nods her head while biting her lower lip in concern. Her eyes water. I’m ready for that switch to turn in her, the one that turns off emotion and reacts on instinct. I brace myself for the lunge. “You’re turning me down,” she says, still nodding. “You’re turning me down for a cripple girl.”
I take her by the shoulders. I’m mad, but I do it gently. The action catches her off guard and she startles. She shoots her eyeliner-clad eyes at me, glaring straight into my soul with a look that could kill.
As she should. Because right now I want to shake those words right out of her, take away from her the ability to ever say such a hateful thing again. But I would never do something like that. So instead, I say forcefully, “Don’t ever call her that again.”
She pushes my arms down and away. “Have you lost it?” She hurries over to the a console table and grabs a set of keys. “I’m getting a ride with someone else.”
She’s about to walk straight past me when I stop her. “Julia, I mean it. Don’t call her that ever again. And you better leave her alone.”
“Leave her alone? Who do you think I am? Cole?”
“Just listen to me, okay? And you know what? If it’s going to be like this, you can leave me alone, too.”
I see the flash of pain in her eyes before she huffs past me without another word.
From the top of the stairs, I watch her leave. I have a good view, although I’m decently hidden from Avery.
Julia stomps as she walks, and she needs to pass Avery on her way out. Avery is standing by the door, making small talk with someone nearby.
Don’t you dare stop, Julia. Keep moving.
She stops.
She taps Avery on the shoulder.
Avery turns, carefully cradling a drink in her hands. She smiles innocently at Julia.
My hands clutch the banister, ready to make a move.
Julia flicks her eyes up at me one last time, a menacing glare. After what just happened between us, I won’t be sorry to see those eyes go. She turns her attention back to Avery and says, “He’s all yours.”
And although I hear her say it clear as day, I only hope I can believe it. I descend the stairs quickly, forgetting all about Cole, just wanting to get back to Avery, whose heart is finally connected to mine.
Connected minus, you know, that one little piece of filthy air between us.
Avery
coming over, biotch. we’ve got stuff to talk about.
That’s the first thing I see when I peel my eye open in the morning to check my phone. It’s nine o’clock. I stretch. Then, as I wake, I realize what the text actually said.
She’s coming over.
What time did she text me? Eight fifty-three. Good.
Not that it matters if Mara sees me in my pajamas, but I would rather get dressed in privacy, with no one else around to see me possibly make a fool out of myself in my bizarre, often-failing attempts to put on my own pants. That’s all.
I pull my phone back up to my face. There’s another text I failed to see the first time around. It was sent earlier in the morning, and it’s from Ethan. I smirk.
I got one. Me.
It’s actually the stereotypical good morning text, complete with sweet smiley face and all. As simple a thing it is, it’s something I’ve never gotten from the previous boy in my life.
I’m just swinging my legs over the side of my bed when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.
I stop. Who the hell is that? My mom works on Saturdays. The house should be empty, and I didn’t hear anyone come up the stairs. Which means … maybe they crept. And if they crept, then they’re definitely not a person I want to open the door for. On the other hand, they did bother to take the time to knock. That was nice of them.
Oh, stop it, Avery. You’re overthinking this.
I grab my robe off the corner of my bed and approach the door tentatively, swinging the robe over my shoulders. I creak open the door.
“You weren’t expecting me?” says Mara.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Mara, what the hell.”
She looks behind her. “What the hell what?”
“You don’t ring our doorbell anymore? You just walk in?”
She dangles a key in front of my face. “You showed me where you kept this spare a long time ago, silly. I knew your mom was out, and since I didn’t get a text back from you I figured you were sleeping.”
“So you’ll come on in while I’m sleeping? Creepy, but good to know.”
She shrugs. “I would have been quiet until you woke up. I just had to get out of my house.”
I laugh. “My house … the new place to get away from it all. Ever hear of Starbucks?”
“Come on, Avery. You know I don’t drink coffee.”
“Fine. Well, you’re right about one thing – I was sleeping.” I rub my eyes. “How’d you get here so fast, anyway?”
She walks to my desk and sits down. “I was having a weekend breakfast with my parents. You know, the usual boring one? They let me cut out early, and I just had to come over.”
Alright, I don’t want to ask this. I really don’t. But I will. “Why?”
“Why what?” She’s flipping through my day planner, casually reading.
“Why did you just have to come over?” I cringe as I wait for the answer.
“You don’t know?”
“No.” I’m totally doing a good job of playing cool right now. All while my insides are screaming, OF COURSE. Don’t play me, Mar.
She slams my planner shut. “I heard about the party last night.”
I take a seat. “I thought so.”
“Avie.” Mara stands. For once, she’s actually intimidating. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
I laugh. “I haven’t.”
“Then what’s the deal? What’s this I heard about you and Ethan?” She looks at me like she’s expecting me to tell her it’s not true.
I’m so glad I can tell her it is true. As much as I denied wanting it before – from her, from everyone else, and even from myself – I admit that it’s the one thing I did want, and the one thing I did need. I don’t expect her to understand this, though. It’s never easy to convey feelings to someone when they can’t experience them in the same way. I just hope she’s supportive, and doesn’t think this is too soon after Cole and my attack.
“It’s true,” I say.
An energy shoots through her that I’ve never seen before. She pops forward on her legs and rushes to me, bending her knees and taking a seat in front of me on the floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she says.
I try to contain my excitement and my smile. I’m sure she can tell what I’m thinking right now: No, I’m not kidding. And I’m so thankful that I’m not.
“But, Avery … he’s, like, absolutely gorgeous.”
I nod. “I’m aware.” Then I smirk at her. “What are you saying?”
She recoils. “Nothing.” She lowers her voice, as if there was anyone else here to hear us. “But how the heck did it happen?”
“It kind of just happened.”
She leans back, grabbing her knees. “Oh, that’s such a cliché.”
“I know it is. But it’s the truth. We were at James Connor’s party, and I saw him come with Julia Crane, and I was madder at him than ever. Then we somehow started talking, and I realized he’s not so bad. He’s kind of great, actually.”
“So I take it he’s not with Julia, after all?”
“Nope. And he never was.”
“Huh. I guess this means we should stop listening to so much random gossip in the halls.”
“That might be a good idea.”
Then things take a turn for the seri
ous. Her smile fades, and she’s looking straight into my eyes. “Do you think you’re ready for this?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I fiddle around with the blanket that drapes over the foot of my bed, picking it up and folding it into a neat square before setting it back down. “I mean, is anyone ever really sure of anything?”
She take a moment to consider that. “Some things, yes.”
My hands empty now, I stuff them between my knees. “Well, I know he makes me forget about all the crap. And he’s nice to me. That’s good, right?”
“That’s very good.”
“And I know I can manage to be around him without being reminded of anything bad. Not like Cole–”
“Avery,” Mara interrupts, “promise me one thing. Now that you have this new boy-toy of yours, who’s obviously so much better in every way, let’s not bring up Cole anymore. As in, ever again. Okay?”
“Okay, okay. Can I just tell you what happened with him, too, last night?”
“Something happened with him, too? You had quite a night. Okay. Shoot.”
I take a deep breath. “He talked to me.”
Mara pretends to gasp. She clutches her chest. “He actually talked to you? Your old boyfriend?” She lets her hand fall and a disgusted look takes over. “It’s a miracle.”
“It’s pathetic, I know. But the thing is, I thought I could handle it, and it turns out I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t? What happened?”
“You know … just memories.” I look down at my hands, which are still tucked away. “Stuff like that.”
Mara pushes herself off her knees and leans on her arm. “I get it,” she says.
And without warning, I start to cry. I’m forced to pull my hands out of their safety net and bring them to my face. I cry everything out, right in front of her; all the fear, all the memories, all the emotion that talking to Cole brought up last night. It hurts. It hurts so bad that I’m thankful when Mara gets up and comes over to me to shrug her arm over me.
“It’s okay,” she says.
I know it’s okay. I know I’m not in danger of being physically hurt anymore. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel the pain. I stop crying long enough to try to explain myself. “It’s just– he made me get out of the truck–”
