“Damn, this is gettin’ too deep for me.”
“Why am I the only one expected to make the first contact? I’ve never understood that. Why am I the stuck-up one? Couldn’t I say the same about you?”
She’s on a roll.
“Shit, I need a beer and a joint. You’re a fiery one.” He brandishes his mischievous grin. “Dude, she’s going to be amazing in bed.”
Reaching across the booth, I punch him in the arm. “Apologize to her right now.”
“No, it’s OK. He’s totally right,” Avery says with a smirk. “Of course, I don’t have proof, but since I’m so athletic and strong with a firm grip and toned thighs, along with muscles that could squeeze tightly, I have no doubt I’ll be talented in bed.”
I spit my drink all over the table.
“I strive to excel at everything I do, so I’m sure I’ll want loads of practice.”
Joey’s mouth is hanging open, and although I can’t stand to imagine the perverse thoughts he’s having, it’s priceless to see him speechless.
“Damn, you’re right, bro. She is cool.”
“OK, get the dirty thoughts out of your head before I smack them out.”
Taking a long drink through his straw, he flips his brown bangs back and smiles at her with less lust in his eyes.
“I guess I pegged you all wrong. Maybe I’ve done that with a lot of people.”
Our pizza arrives, and Joey entertains us throughout dinner. Avery smiles and laughs a lot, and I appreciate every moment she’s not crying or having a panic attack.
We still need to have a talk, though. She was anxious and fearful when Joey got close to her. She’s gotta believe I’m different than the other males who’ve been in her life. I’m not going to lash out at her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Avery
Joey is funny like I’d witnessed on occasion in class. Aside from him being a big flirt, he’s a nice guy.
I worried at first that Hayden would think I was flirting back. I even panicked for a minute, picturing him dumping me for hitting on his friend, which I’d never do.
We drive back home, and Hayden pulls into my driveway.
“Don’t you want to get out at your house?” I ask him.
“No, it’s nice out this evening. I’ll walk, but first I want to talk to you.” He secures my hand between his. “I might’ve been overdramatic with what I said about you not letting a guy touch you.
“I meant don’t flirt back with them and give them the impression it’s OK to touch you, but I didn’t need to say it because I don’t believe you’d do that, so I’m sorry.”
“I worried you were going to think I was flirting with him and dump me.”
“God, no. You looked afraid of me tonight, and that cut through me. I care about you and trust you, OK? I trust in us.”
Before I can respond, his eager mouth presses to mine. Our kiss deepens and tongues collide. They sweep and stroke before he’s nibbling on my lip.
The sun has set, so the headlights of my parents’ car pulling into the driveway surprise me. I jerk free and wipe my mouth, but it’s too late. They saw us, and I’ll have some explaining to do.
“I guess you’re meeting my parents right now.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Instead of entering the garage, my dad stops the car at the door. They both get out about the same time we do. Hayden lags behind me a bit as we walk toward them on the concrete driveway.
“Hi,” I say first. “Um, I want you to meet Hayden Jamison.”
“Hayden, these are my parents Brad and Beth.”
“Actually, it’s Mr. and Mrs. Hollingsworth,” Dad says as he stretches his hand out to shake Hayden’s. I’m relieved when I see Hayden give a firm handshake back. Mom is at least smiling, but Dad’s not as his eyes revert to mine.
“Why are you both here? Was he about to come inside?”
“Oh, no. He lives down the street and is going to walk home. We just went out for pizza. His uncle owns Jamison Construction, Dad.”
He lifts his brow in surprise.
“You live in our community, huh?”
“Yes, sir. My uncle built the homes back here.”
“Interesting. It’s getting late, Avery. I suspect you have studying to do.”
“Right.” I give Hayden a faint smile.
“I’ll text you, and thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice meeting you both,” he adds before he treads down the driveway with his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.
Dad blows out a taxing breath before he gets back inside the car and drives their vehicle into the garage.
“He seems respectful,” Mom says.
“He’s super nice.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about you and Blake breaking up? From that kiss I just saw, I’m assuming you have.”
“Of course, and I don’t know. I didn’t think to I guess.”
“From the look of that boy, I don’t think your father will approve.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to. I like him, and he’s nicer and more respectful to me than Blake ever was.”
“Let’s go inside.”
Sighing, I follow my mother into the house. As I expected, my dad lays into me in an instant for making out in the driveway, not telling them of my whereabouts, and for not spending the time studying.
Naturally, he can already tell from stereotyping, that Hayden isn’t good enough for me, which is a load of crap.
The drumming starts in my ears as I sit on the couch and watch him pace in front of me. I can’t focus on his words any longer once I enter the dark tunnel that’s trying to shelter me from a full-blown panic attack.
“Avery, are you even listening to me?”
“No, not anymore because when you lecture and lecture me for thirty minutes straight, I begin to lose focus.”
“Do you not realize you’ll be sitting through lectures for hours at a time in college?”
“Yeeesss, Dad,” I say through a groan. “Now, enough already.” I stand to leave the living room, but he grabs my arm.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
I look him in the eyes.
“Yeah, well, I’m finished with you.”
My head slings to the right, and I stumble back from his palm hitting my face. Mom gasps from the doorway where she’s been standing. Our eyes connect as I bring my face back up, an expression of horror claiming hers.
I glare at my father. “Forty-eight … and the last.”
“Brad!” Mom shouts in astonishment.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m used to it.” Walking out of the room, I cover my burning cheek. I climb the stairs, feeling as if I’m walking into a thick fog where I can’t see anything in front of me.
Entering my room, I shut the door behind me and slide my back down it to the floor. The shock has turned to numbness, shielding me from the emotional pain, but it will be temporary.
The anxiety will build and build, along with my hatred for that man, and then I’ll need a release.
Fishing my cell phone from my pocket, I text Hayden.
Me: I want to cut.
Hayden: NO. I mean, please don’t. Shit, I read that I shouldn’t say that, either. Write in the journal, or talk to me instead.
Hayden: They hate me, right?
Me: My father is negative about everything relating to me. It’s not you.
I don’t tell him about being hit. After what he did to Mr. Bradford, I don’t trust that he wouldn’t come over here and do the same to my father.
Don’t cut. Don’t do that to Hayden.
Me: I’ll write in the journal.
Hayden: Thank you, baby. I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll pick you up in the morning at your house because you’re an adult who is not going to keep letting your parents bully you. OK?
Me: Sure.
Hayden
I’m worried about Avery. Although she smiled for me a few times
this morning, she’s barely spoken. Mentally, she seemed somewhere else in physics, even when I stroked her leg once with the hope to bring her back.
We’re in sociology now, waiting for our teacher to return from wherever she is, and I hate that I can’t see Avery’s face as she sits several rows in front of me.
Chastity, a girl who often insults Avery, turns around in her seat and sneers at her.
“Why aren’t you sitting with your new boyfriend? God, did he already discover what a snotty bitch you are and dump you?”
Avery jumps from her chair. She barrels toward Chastity, and grasping the front of her shirt, she throws her to the ground. Before I can get there, she’s straddling her and punching her in the face, one fist after another.
Chairs scrape across the floor, and people yell. I grab Avery from behind and pull her off of Chastity, who already has a red eye and bloody nose.
“Let me go! Get off of me!” Wrapping my arms tighter around her, I squeeze her against me, giving her nowhere to go.
Only a few seconds pass before she’s sobbing in my arms. Her head falls back against me, and her body convulses, too.
Mrs. Samuel enters and hurries over. She helps Chastity up and announces they’ll all be going to the office.
“I’m going with her,” I say. I figure she’ll refuse, but when she sees what a mess Avery is, she nods in agreement.
I pull Avery against my side as we walk to the office. Chastity is taken straight in to see the nurse while we sit in the small waiting area. Mrs. Samuel goes into the vice principal’s office and shuts the door.
Our resource officer flings open the glass door next. He steps inside and looks around with an anxious expression.
“Avery, what happened?” he asks.
“I hit Chastity Graves.”
“What?” The asshole in his lame security uniform actually smirks. I’m sure he’s disappointed he missed it.
Mrs. Samuel opens the door and orders Avery to come inside.
“I witnessed the whole thing,” I say.
She sighs. “Hayden, I’ll speak to you in a moment.” She closes the door behind them, and I slump down in my seat and text Jewel for a favor.
Avery will at least get suspended, and as vindictive as Chastity can be, I wouldn’t put it past her to press charges. Avery’s parents are going to lose their mind if they’re as strict as they seem.
The resource officer, who I believe is named Miguel, leans against a wall and starts playing on his phone.
Ten minutes have passed when Avery exits the vice principal’s office.
“They want to speak to you, and after that they’re going to let you take me home since I don’t have my car. That is if you want to.” She glances to the resource officer and back to me.
“Of course I’ll take you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Avery
I’ve never harmed anyone in my life before today. I can barely bring myself to kill a bug. My foot is tapping as I wait for Hayden. Realizing my ponytail is coming apart, I put it back up.
“So, are you and Jamison an item now?” the resource officer asks.
“Um, yes.”
“Are you sure that’s a smart move? I’d hate to see you get in trouble again.”
I scowl at him. “I got myself in trouble today. Hayden actually stepped in to help. He’s nothing like everyone around here thinks.”
Grimacing, he goes back to playing on his phone. Hayden comes out of the office and insists on getting our belongings from class. I wait for him by the exit, and we’re soon walking to his bike.
The parking lot is quiet, and for once I wish it was noisy and crowded. I don’t know what to say to Hayden, and the silence is making me feel like he’s waiting for an explanation.
Before I can take the helmet from him, he pulls me into his arms and kisses my temple.
“Are you OK?”
“I don’t know who I am anymore, so I can’t answer that.”
“Are you suspended?”
“Three days but they’re counting this one since it was only second period. Lucky me. Like that’s going to make a bit of difference to my parents. I have to wait to hear if Chastity is pressing charges.”
“Let’s get you home. Jewel’s calling the school to tell them I’m sick. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“But they know you were fine five minutes ago.”
“And now I’m not feeling well. You’re wasting your breath if you argue with me over this.”
“You’re too good for me.”
“Stop, and get on my bike. I’m taking you to meet my aunt. She makes everyone feel better.” Putting on the helmet, I do as he asks, and we ride home.
Hayden parks in his driveway, and instead of going inside his house, he takes my hand and leads me around the side of it toward the backyard.
“Oh, are we going into the woods?”
“No, we’re going to Jewel’s art studio.” We reach a building that’s the size of a large shed. The siding is a maroon color similar to the dark brick making up their home that’s more modest than mine.
There’s one window with shutters that face the house, and it has a basket hooked beneath it with a row of flowers. The place has a whimsical appeal.
A woman tells us to come in once Hayden knocks, so we step inside. She spins around on a rolling chair and smiles.
“Hi, I’m Jewel, and you must be Trouble.” Hayden laughs, so I swat his arm.
“What did you tell her?”
“To call you Trouble.”
My face warms. “Hi, I’m actually Avery.”
“Hi, Avery. I’d shake your hand, but it would cover yours in paint.” Bright colors all over the room catch my eye, so I glance around.
“Wow, did you paint all of these?”
“Yes. I sell some at festivals throughout the year, but it’s more of a hobby than anything.” She brushes fallen light brown hair from her face back toward her bun.
She’s a pretty woman who’s dressed adorable in blue jean capris with wide folded hems at the bottoms and a blue and yellow paisley blouse.
“Aunt Jewel’s favorite attire is paint.”
She shrugs. “I can’t argue with that.”
“Uh, Jewel, do you mind if Avery hangs out with you for a few minutes while I straighten up my room?”
“No, I don’t mind. She can boost my ego by telling me how amazing my paintings are.” She winks at him.
“Is that OK?” he asks me. Like I could be rude and say no. Besides, it’s cute that he’s worried about his room being messy.
“Sure.” Kissing the top of my head, he leaves Jewel and me alone.
“Hayden said you had a rough morning.”
“It’s embarrassing, but I–I beat up a girl. I feel horrible about it. She was nasty to me, and I lost it.”
“School can be rough, especially when you’re bullied.”
“I did feel bullied, but I handled it wrong. I had a lot of pent-up anger, and her words pushed me over the edge. It all came spilling out through my fists.”
Jewel’s eyes round. “Both fists, huh?”
I don’t know why, but I giggle.
“Yeah, both. I swear I’m not a mean person. I wouldn’t want you to think that about me.”
“Hayden likes you, so I couldn’t think that. He’s a remarkable human being, and I trust his judgment.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. I really like him … probably more than I should this soon.”
Setting down her paint palate, she stands and wipes her hands on a small white apron she’s wearing that’s been spattered with paint.
“I was joking about the ego boost, but I would love your honest opinion of my paintings.”
Strolling around the small room, I study each one that’s either hanging on the white walls or propped on an easel.
I recognize a few places in the paintings that are famous landmarks like the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building. There’s a lighthouse
I believe from up East, and every painting is made from the most vibrant, bright colors.
“These are incredible, and the brightness of them makes me happy. What made you pick these particular places?”
“It’s interesting to me that the first place your mind went to was something personal.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is that something you’re not supposed to ask a painter?”
She laughs. “No, it’s fine. I love that you did because it gives me an excuse to tell the story.” Standing in front of the portrait of the lighthouse, she stares at it and skims her fingers over a thickened part of paint.
I notice her delicate, thin hand covered in colors, too. Her neck is elongated with a speck of yellow paint showing. She’s beautifully messy with this gracefulness to her. I like her.
“Hayden’s mother, Hazel, is my sister.” She frowns. “Or maybe I’m supposed to say was. She’s passed now.
“Anyway, Hazel and I were only eighteen months apart. I was the oldest, and when we were teenagers, we made a scrapbook and would put magazine clippings in it of all the places we would travel once we were grown.
“We made it to a couple of them, but then Hazel became enamored by Hayden’s father when they met one night while he was passing through Indiana. Boy did he ever sweep her off her feet and fast.
“He stayed in town an extra two days to spend time with her, and then they talked on the phone. Three weeks later, she packed her stuff and moved to Arizona to be with him.
“She never moved back, and although she traveled with him often, there were many places she didn’t make it to, especially on the eastern side of the country, and she never traveled outside of the U.S.
“Don’t get me wrong; she loved her life, but I always hated that we didn’t get to travel together to the destinations we had dreamed about.
“So, I guess you could say this is my grieving process and my tribute to her. I paint all the amazing places we wanted to explore and make them more vibrant than ever. I like to think this is how Hazel sees them from the heavens.”
Tears well up, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I want to throw my arms around this woman and hug her and tell her what an amazing sister she is.
“That’s a touching story,” I whisper. “I imagine it’s hard to part with them.”
The Scars Keeper Page 15
