"Do you think she's ever fucked someone before?" I asked, reaching for a second granola bar before pouring a cup of coffee. There was nothing like mixing uppers with downers. It was just enough to even me out.
"Who, Avery? I doubt it. She's probably a closet lesbian," he replied with a laugh, pouring his own cup of coffee and adding a ridiculous amount of sugar. He chased it with a donut. He might as well inject the sugar straight into his veins.
"Maybe it's about time we find out," I mused, and Trevor gave me a wide grin. "I think Avery could use a lesson in respect."
"What do you have in mind?"
Chapter 6
Avery- 10 years ago
The house was quiet all-day Saturday. Dad was on a job site. I had homework, but I decided to push it off until Sunday and catch up on my favorite shows. It wasn't until I finished the last one that I remembered I had some laundry to do. I may have procrastinated just a bit longer too because I was only on my second load of laundry by the time Dad walked in that night. He was covered in dirt and carrying a Chinese takeout container. My eyes lit up.
"China Gate!" I said with far too much enthusiasm as he pulled out some forks and set the food on the kitchen table. I loved Chinese food and it was the perfect ending to a relaxing day.
"Did you have a good day, Fin?"
I rolled my eyes a little at the old nickname. Dad had been calling me Fin as long as I could remember. When I was really little it was Finny. To him I would always be his little Finny.
"It was okay. Brock broke up with Taylor after he caught her cheating on him with Kyle."
He rolled his gray eyes.
"What? It's a good show!" I said, defending the show he absolutely could not stand while filling up my plate with spicy goodness. "How is the workshop coming along?"
"The Pearsons want to add a bathroom." He grumbled, swiping his sandy hair away from his face so he could take a hair free bite of chow mein. It was getting long, down to his shoulders. I always teased Dad that he looked like a stoner hippie. "The house is literally 20 feet away. It wouldn't kill them to walk to it, but more money, I guess. It's not like Jack is ever going to use the workshop anyway. That man couldn't build an Ikea dresser, let alone make one from scratch."
"Isn't he the one that tripped over his dog and broke an ankle?"
"Yep. And he sprained his wrist while playing tennis. He's a magnet for accidents. Can you even imagine him with a table saw?"
I shivered as I took another bite of beef and broccoli. We talked some more about the project as we cleared our plates. I piled together the empty containers and tossed them. Dad cracked his nightly beer and went to the living room. We sat in a comfortable silence as he watched some news show from Charlotte. Junction did not have the most exciting news. Nowhere near enough to warrant a local channel. I think the most exciting thing in the last six months was the time a deer got stuck in the Whitman's fence. As he watched, I finished reading my latest book- a dystopian thriller. I would have to order some more books soon.
"I'm going to head to bed. Are we still going to go to the farmer's market in the morning?"
He nodded, turning off the TV and heading to his own room. I heard the shower in the master turn on as I brushed my teeth. I wasn't all that tired, but there wasn't much else to do. I took a few quizzes on my phone, read a couple articles by bloggers talking about the show.
My cell phone chimed not long after I put it on the charger. Probably some random ad. It was stupid that I even had the phone. It's not like anyone would call or text. I brought up the screen and almost swiped the notification when I realized what it was- a text message. An invitation to hang out. What the fuck?
Hey Avery, it's Heather. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow.
Lovely...I had given her my number not long after I moved here. She hadn't used it until now. I'm not sure what her ulterior motive was. She'd never treated me badly, but this was completely unexpected. There had to be a reason. I took a deep breath and typed out a reply.
Why?
10 seconds passed, then 30. Finally, after a few minutes her response popped up.
I saw you talking to Chris yesterday. I'm trying to get in with his brother. And he's partnered up with you on that project. Hoping you can help a girl out. I was thinking about going shopping in Harrow. Unless there is something else you want to do.
Not sure what she thought I could do. Shopping...okay. That could be fun. There were a few shops in Harrow, the town 20 or so miles away, and I had been trying to convince Dad to go with me to get some things for New York. I didn't want to go alone. I tapped my finger on the back of the phone. Maybe it would be okay.
Okay, but I have plans in the morning. Is 1 o'clock alright?
I waited again for her reply, a part of me expecting a laughing emoji or some rude comment. My phone chimed.
Sounds good. I'll pick you up at your place.
Feeling my stomach twist with anxiety I typed a quick 'K' before setting the phone on the nightstand and turning on my side. This was probably a really bad idea. So why was I kind of excited? My brain raced with so many thoughts- what would I wear, what would I talk about, did she have some cruel prank planned. Should I cancel? Being cruel really wasn't her style. Surely, I was just over thinking things. I laid in the dark for a long time before sleep finally took me.
When I woke, I showered and dressed for the day. I considered wearing something nicer, but if my black leggings and band t-shirt were good enough for me, they should be good enough for Heather. Dad was already sipping coffee when I walked into the kitchen. He never slept long. He was dressed in a loose flannel with a gray shirt and an old pair of jeans. He was reading something on his phone. More news probably or a recipe for dinner. Dad liked to smoke or grill on the weekends.
"Ready to go?" He asked, finishing off his drink and rinsing it in the sink.
"Yeah. Do you have the list?"
He held the sheet of paper from the fridge in his hand. We tried to get as many ingredients as we could from the local farmer's market. There was something about fresh local food that was so much better than the grocery store stuff. It wasn't until we had gotten back that I told him of my plans for later.
"I'm going into Harrow with a girl from school at 1. Is there anything you need me to pick up?"
"No," he replied, pausing briefly in unloading our weekly haul. I could hear the surprise in his voice and the happiness. "It's nice for you to get out for a bit."
I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the fact that he had to hide a smile. I didn't keep many secrets from my dad. He knew that I didn't have friends. We didn't talk about it a lot anymore and even when we did, I never went into detail. I didn't want him to know the things that happened at school. In our first couple months living in Junction he had encouraged me to branch out, but he left me alone the closer I got to graduation and moving to New York.
"It's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing. It felt like something. I left him to finish putting away things and ducked into my room. I plugged my phone into my charger and tried to read a few chapters. Time dragged by and I found myself staring out the window around 12:45. So pathetic. I was practically standing at the front door when I got the text she was out front. As it was, I could hear the gravel crunching underneath the tires of her car.
"I'm leaving!"
"Have fun!" Dad called out from the living room. I sucked in a deep breath and opened the door. Heather's car looked out of place on my gravel driveway- shiny red and sporty.
"Hey," Heather said, her voice carrying over the loud pop music that poured from her car. She had the window rolled down and sunglasses on.
"Hey," I replied nervously, hopping into the passenger seat.
She was pulling away from my house before I even had my belt clicked into place. The music was deafening, and she made no attempt to talk to me. I could feel the anxiety rolling through my body as we made our way out onto the main road. My heart was racing. Heather
sang along to the music, oblivious to my unease for the full 30-minute drive.
"So, I'm looking for a dress to wear to a party next week," she declared the second the music stopped playing. She cut the engine and popped her sunglasses into a case inside her purse. "We need to find something Garrett will like. Something sexy."
"Uh, yeah," I agreed. I didn't know the first thing about being sexy except what I'd read and seen on TV "I need some clothes for New York, I'm leaving for college in June after graduation."
"Oh, nice!" she said, slipping out of the car. I followed. "I'm just going to the community college here in Harrow."
We went into the mall and window shopped for a bit. I grabbed a couple long sleeve shirts, jeans, and even managed to find some shorts and tank tops for the summer. We made small talk about college, she asked me what Chris and I had talked about the other day and held up every dress she could find to get my opinion. I tried to keep the conversation on other topics but eventually she brought up Garrett.
"So, which one do you think Garrett will like more, the black one or the red one?"
She had two equally skimpy dresses that would reach just pass her ass cheeks. The red one was skintight and strapless. The black one was a spaghetti strap with a V neck and flared out at the hips, it was also missing the entire back. I didn't know what Garrett would think. He probably wouldn't give a shit what she was wearing. The red would look phenomenal with her blond hair though.
"The red will look better with your hair. You'll look super-hot in it." She nodded her head in agreement and was about to put the black one on a rack when a smile lit up her face.
"Oh my god! You should totally try on the black one."
She had to be crazy. There was no way I could wear something that revealing and pull it off. I shook my head adamantly.
"Oh, come on. It wouldn't kill you to try it. Besides, this one I grabbed is a size too big for me anyway."
Ouch. I'm sure she didn't mean it that way. Still. I did need something for parties. Fuck. I'd just try it on. No big deal. We found dressing rooms and I wiggled into it. I caught sight of Heather as I exited the dressing room, holding myself tightly around the midsection. I was right, she looked like a sex god.
"Definitely the better choice," she said, running her hands down her body. She caught a look at me in the mirror. "Holy shit, Avery! You look good enough to eat."
She licked her lips and I blushed.
"You need to wear that to the party."
"Wait, what?"
"The party at Trevor's next week. You can come with me. I have a choker that will work perfectly with that dress too."
I didn't know how to respond. I should say no. It would be so stupid to show up to a party, but fuck, I wanted to say yes. So, I did.
Chapter 7
Garrett- 10 years ago
The weekend went quick. It had been easy enough to get Trevor on my side. He was always up for a prank, especially a mean one. By noon on Saturday, we had already concocted the entire thing.
"How are you going to convince Heather to invite her?" I asked, passing him the joint.
"I'll give her some sob story about how I have a crush on her," he replied, fighting a cough. "Heather is such a sucker for matchmaking. She won't even question it."
He started to cough hard then, unable to fight the burn in his chest any longer. I clapped him on the back.
"As if you would give a flying fuck about anyone," I said, my insides becoming fuzzy and warm from the weed. We were already well on to our way to a decent high. My whole body would be static soon. "And the choker?"
"I'll tell her I have a thing for them." A shrug and a laugh. I smiled to myself. Fucking easy. My thoughts drifted to thoughts of tears. I couldn't wait to make that bitch cry.
Trevor had immediately got to work on Heather, using their assignment as an excuse to call her. While they talked, he fought back his laughter at being completely baked. I'd chuckled at his attempts to hold a conversation. Trevor was way funnier when I was high. Heather had fallen for it. She'd taken Avery out yesterday on some sort of girlie shopping trip in Harrow and invited her to the party. She'd hinted to me in a text that she had gotten something slutty to wear for me too. I hoped that she would still put out after what I had planned for Avery. Whatever. It would happen regardless. Next week or next month or next year. Heather would die in this rich town. I could see her coming back to visit from college and marrying some rich loser. She was the type. Avery though, I had limited time to ruin her. Time that I had to use wisely.
Everything was going exactly as I needed it to go. Except for Chris. He was making himself a problem. He invited Avery to sit with him at lunch today. I hadn't expected that. Maybe I should have. I'd pissed him off about the whole Avery situation on Friday so of course he would start to get all buddy buddy with her. Luckily, she had denied his request from what I heard. Good. Chris needed to keep his mouth shut, especially around her. Thankfully, she wouldn't want to get within 10 ft of him after Trevor's party. I doubted she would trust anyone after I was done. I didn't need her asking the wrong questions before then though. Finding out things about me that I didn't want known. I'd have to intervene with Chris. If I started being nicer to Avery hopefully, he would back off for the time being. It would make what I had planned easier too.
I'd picked a stupid senior project from her stack of inventions- a blanket with pockets that sealed. I put the paper on her desk as soon as I walked into Economics and I could practically hear her sigh of relief. Did she honestly think I would just let myself fail? She clearly knew nothing about me, and that's the way that it would stay. She would only know what I allowed her to know and nothing more.
"It was the least shitty out of the batch." I told her as I took a seat next to her. It wasn't my normal spot, but no one was stupid enough to say anything about it. She glared at me. There was something about that glare, the sharpness in her green eyes, it really was intoxicating. Or that could be the cocaine I snorted before school still lingering in my system.
Mr. Watts paired us up again and this time I decided to make small talk while we both worked.
"What is this all about?" I pointed to the patches on her backpack.
Her bag was absolutely covered in them, to the point where a few were overlapping. I recognized a handful of the designs as nerdy bullshit- Harry Potter, Star Wars. I thought I saw the logo for that teen drama show, Inflictions. The rest of it could have been Greek to me. She pulled the bag off the desk and set it on the floor with another one of those damn glares. I shifted in my seat, feeling my dick harden. It wasn't entirely surprising, but it was when associated with Avery.
"I like them," she replied sharply, effectively dropping the subject. I suppressed a smile. Feisty. "What did you get for the production cost?"
I handed her my calculations and she looked over them intensely before giving a nod and a grunt of surprise, an indication that she got the same thing. My chest tightened in irritation.
"I'm not stupid, you know," I said defensively. Of course, she would think I was some kind of idiot.
"Are you fucking stupid? Look at me!" His hands gripped me roughly as he pushed me down onto the mattress. My insides burned, but my mind was empty. I tried so hard not to think.
I bit my cheek, fighting back the memory as Avery sighed. She looked up at me, rolled those emerald eyes and then looked away again. My dick liked that. It twitched. What was it about her fighting me that was so undeniably attractive? When I teased her before she always shut down. That changed, and I had to admit that I liked it. The eye rolls, the glares, flipping me off. Fuck, that shit was hot. Her anger would make everything even better.
"Not that you need the ego boost, but I know you're not stupid. You're just a lazy asshole," she said, handing me some poster board and markers, without making eye contact again. "Here. You can make some of the posters."
I mean, she wasn't wrong. I was lazy and it wasn't just because of the never-ending fucking bullshit
that ran through my head when I was anything less than plastered. Bottom line is I just didn't give a fuck most of the time. What was the point? I couldn't see myself with a normal job, not when I was busy getting high or fucking all day.
"You would think someone with everything wouldn't be such a dick."
The laugh I made was genuine. I had everything, but it had come at a high price. Trauma was a bitch that showed no mercy. She had no idea what it was like to really suffer.
"Or is that the problem, did mommy and daddy spoil you rotten?"
My entire body tensed; my teeth clenched. I wanted to spit out something nasty, to bark at her. Fuck that, I wanted to bite her and make it hurt. That was the plan though and it needed to wait. I spent the next twenty minutes drawing and coming up with logos for our pretend company, ignoring the ache in my pants until it disappeared. My anger though, that shit stuck around. It festered in the silence as I worked. I needed to put in as much work as I could before this weekend because Avery wasn't going to put up with me come next week. She wouldn't be asking any more questions that's for damn sure.
Hurt Like Me Page 4
