Where You Belong

by Tracie Puckett

  Avery didn’t stick around after the dishes were done. He shook Dad’s hand, offered my mother a polite nod, and then turned to me with a forced smile. There was awkwardness in the air, something I could only assume Mom was responsible for . . . and I would get to the bottom of that the moment we were alone.

  I walked Avery out and said a quick thanks and goodbye, but not before he’d passed me a small paper with his cellphone number and strict orders to stay in touch.

  After all, he pointed out, we were apparently friends now.

  When I walked back in the house, I was ready for the full force of Mom’s confrontation, but silence was all that met me at the door. Listening to the voices coming from the den, I realized Dad was in a rare and talkative mood, so Mom found it difficult to slip away.

  I thought to sneak away, dodge her eventual lecture, and go back to my room, but I couldn’t get past the image of Avery’s hurt expression as he left so suddenly tonight. I knew my mom well enough to know that she’d protect her family by any means possible, and that meant taking out any threat that came too close for comfort. She was the reason he’d left, and I wanted to know why. What had he done tonight to earn her disdain?

  “Mom,” I said, poking my head into the room where she sat with Dad. “We should talk.”

  Her shoulders slumped and she followed me out, turning to me as she closed the door to my father’s sacred football den.

  “What did you say?” I jumped straight to the point. No small talk. No jokes. No playful questions about her thoughts on the cute boy. Direct—the way it should be. “You told him to leave, didn’t you?”

  “That’s what he told you?”

  “He didn’t have to,” I said, frustrated that she’d blame him. “You weren’t very cordial, you know? Nor were you subtle. He was nice to you—to all of us—and you didn’t extend a shred of courtesy to him all night!”

  “I’m not going to argue with you about this, Roz. If you can calm down, lower your voice, and talk to me in a reasonable manner, I’d be happy to discuss my feelings on the matter. But until you’ve calmed down—”

  “That won’t happen anytime soon. I’m pissed.”

  “Then this conversation is over,” she snapped. “You can find me when you’re ready to act like an adult.”

  She turned away from me, disappearing into the kitchen.

  I bit my lip and forced myself to stand down. I could follow her and demand a better conclusion to that conversation, but that would only throw fuel on a fire. She was the one who needed to calm down, gain a little perspective, and realize that Avery had been nothing but kind tonight. He’d deserved far better treatment than what he’d gotten.

  I stomped up the stairs, still clutching Avery’s ten-digit number in my hand. I opened my fist, stared at the numbers, and my frustration seemed to melt into a puddle on the floor. I smirked down at that tiny piece of paper, shocked that any of this was real.

  If I could build a time machine, go back two years, and tell my fifteen-year-old self that someday I’d have Avery Chase’s phone number, I probably wouldn’t have lived to see seventeen. I’d just die of shock on the spot.

  Thank you for tonight. It meant a lot to my dad, I texted, because restraint wasn’t my strong suit. Avery’s orders to stay in touch were unnecessary, because I would’ve found a way to talk to him again . . . if for no other reason than to finally apologize.

  Ten minutes went by before my cell chirped, showing a message from Avery’s number.

  Happy to help. Please reiterate my thanks to your parents. I had a nice night.

  I tapped my phone against my knee, trying to figure out what to say next. Should I say anything at all?

  I wished he would’ve stayed, but Mom would’ve never gone for it. Still, it didn’t make that wish go away . . . I wanted to talk to him. Spend time with him. Apologize.

  I decided to swallow my nerves and go in for the kill.

  I wish you could’ve stayed longer. I wanted to talk.

  My phone chimed immediately. Next time. I promise.

  Next time? I giggled, surprising myself with my childish reaction to his message.

  I could already feel it happening—this weird admiration I had for Avery budding again, but this time it felt entirely different. What was once attraction was suddenly taking on a new level of fondness.

  Something was different now, something I’d noticed over dinner.

  I couldn’t get past his kindness tonight. Even when Mom hadn’t extended an ounce of courtesy, Avery persisted. He put forth an effort, and he’d stood to gain nothing by treating her well; she wasn’t going to budge, and I think he knew that. And yet he tried.

  There were things in life that were easily manufactured—traits we could manipulate when we felt pressured to be on. But nothing about Avery’s kindness was fake—not tonight, and not last night.

  I hadn’t let myself forget how he’d treated me out there on that porch swing. I’d offered him the opportunity to have exactly what he wanted—a chance to lie and deceive, all to keep a job he loved. But he wouldn’t let me sacrifice myself for his own selfish gain. That was the deepest kind of respect.

  And while I knew all the stories and I’d heard all the rumors—about the issues that Avery dealt with in his personal life—I couldn’t let that sway me from what I’d learned firsthand.

  Avery’s mistakes didn’t make him a bad person, and he was someone I wanted to see again.

  I looked to the clock.

  Where You Belong was on a midseason break, which meant there were no new episodes tonight. But since it was Monday, they’d at least show a rerun, so I could guarantee some kind of entertainment for the night.

  I walked over to my dresser, turning on the small TV I’d gotten for Christmas last year. It was already programmed to the right channel, and as soon as the screen lit up, there he was—right on the other end of the TV.

  I sank down to my bed and watched a familiar episode.

  You could’ve stayed to watch Sterling, I texted, tacking on a smiley face emoji before I sent the next message.

  He responded within seconds. Don’t fall for him. He’s a charmer. I can’t compete with that.

  I grinned but didn’t respond right away. Was he trying to compete with my fictional crush? Butterflies fluttered in my belly again.

  I turned back to the show and watched as my favorite vampire zipped through the streets of Darkness Falls. Avery’s good-hearted character, Sterling Dalca, rushed against the clock to save his mortal love from a hungry pack of werewolves. He would do anything for her—his human soul mate, Anna. He’d even risk his life in battle with the only creature who could turn him to dust. He would die for her; he’d give anything to keep her safe.

  I wondered if Sterling could love Anna so unconditionally, was there someone in Avery’s life that he’d put everything on the line for? Had he run away from LA, not only to protect himself but also the woman who’d also suffered the consequences of his bad decisions?

  Is Evie Lawson your Anna? I texted, because I couldn’t shake the nagging memory of that kiss they shared on the beach. Those pictures haunted me.

  Already, and so quickly, I could feel myself drawn to him—his temperament, his persistence, the way he’d made my father’s night. The way he respected me. The way his bravery and courage emanated from his public post on the Internet this morning. It wasn’t so much his giving nature, his handsome face, or his naturally pointed teeth that’d gotten me this time. No, this time, there was something real about the affection I felt stirring inside of me.

  I had to know what I was up against. If Avery was in a committed relationship with his publicist, I needed to tell my heart to stand down. As hard as that would be, I could never allow myself to want what I couldn’t have.

  My phone chirped again, and I held my breath. I didn’t want to turn my phone over, didn’t want to read his answer. But I finally mustered the courage to open the message.

  Evie was a bad publi
city stunt I should’ve never agreed to. And then a second message came through. There is no Anna.

  I gnawed at my lip, and my eyes drew back to the TV screen. Another chime pulled my attention back down.

  Can I see you again? Soon?

  I smirked, happy that I was alone in that moment. If anyone could’ve seen the way my face flushed or my lips twitched, I would’ve died of utter embarrassment.

  I considered his question, already knowing I would jump at the chance to see him again. There were so many things I needed to say. So much he needed to hear.

  But where would we go? I couldn’t invite him back to the house—not with Mom’s unspoken disapproval screaming unnecessary volumes.

  And what would we do? It’s not as though Sutton Woods was a bustling metropolis, full of endless opportunities for a fun night out. This wasn’t the big city Avery was used to. But there was one place I knew of that LA couldn’t compete with, a place I was certain my new friend would appreciate. I had to take him there.

  Me: Tomorrow evening? I have something cool to show you.

  Avery: You’re going to keep your clothes on, right?

  I laughed out loud this time, dropping my head.

  Me: Just pick me up at six. Dress warm. And since you’re driving, bring a car with airbags. I don’t want to die.

  Chapter Eight

  “What are you looking at?” Ally leaned in front of me.

  “Nothing.” I hid my phone.

  “That’s awfully suspicious behavior for nothing,” Mel observed, sliding into our regular booth at the diner.

  Unlike Carter, she hadn’t picked up any extra shifts during our break from school, so fortunately for all of us, she was actually able to sit down and enjoy the time we had together today.

  I tried to push thoughts of Avery into the back of my mind, but I couldn’t. There was something new and exciting happening in my life, and I couldn’t seem to shake this constant giddiness I felt. For as long as I possibly could, I had to hide that giddiness from the girls. Any sudden change in demeanor would throw up a flag, and I didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.

  I liked that they didn’t know about Avery yet; for now, even if it wouldn’t last, the secret was one worth keeping. Once they found out, the air would change. There would be a barrage of questions and concern, and their skepticism about his past behaviors and intentions would kill this high. Not to mention, they wouldn’t believe me any more than Mom would’ve believed me.

  I just wanted these untainted, unquestioned moments to feel this warm affection for Avery.

  Despite his sudden departure, last night was perfect. I was able to focus on something good. I hadn’t thought about Daniel, his debt, or Sara Oliver. I hadn’t stressed over finding a job or maintaining a lie to save my family.

  Yesterday, for one whole day, Avery was the perfect distraction. He’d impressed my dad; he’d made me smile. And then he’d asked to see me again.

  I was living blissfully in the clouds, and for once, I wanted to stay that way.

  I’d woken up this morning to find Avery had posted another picture to his public account. It was a selfie—a picture he’d taken of himself standing in the middle of a mechanical shop, Wes’s, though he hadn’t advertised that much. Avery’s cheeks were smudged with oil or dirt, maybe a mix of both, and his lips were twisted into an adorable bulge. The caption read: learning a messy new skill.

  I could never imagine that Wes had put him to work, so this was probably Avery’s way of taking advantage of the downtime.

  “On task,” Ally said, snapping in my face to draw me back to the conversation at hand.

  True to her nature, she was totally on top of things for this year’s Thanksgiving feast.

  Each year, Ally, Mel, and I got together the day before Thanksgiving to have a little powwow of our own—just a nice, enjoyable meal between friends on Wednesday afternoon. Thanksgiving Thursdays were always reserved, as our small group volunteered our November holiday at a soup kitchen one town over. And when Carter moved to Sutton Woods, she joined in on the tradition. After each volunteer stint, we’d return to our respective homes for dinner with our families. It was the best way to ensure we all had an optimal amount of time together during the holiday.

  “Mom’s going to help me make the dough beforehand,” Carter said, excited to change things up. We’d always stuck to the traditional Thanksgiving foods, but this year, Carter suggested we try something new to avoid back-to-back turkey coma. We liked the idea of change, and with a unanimous vote, Pizza Thanksgiving was born.

  “Mel’s covering the homemade sauce and a variety of cheeses,” Ally added. “I’ve got the meats and veggies, and Jasper’s got dessert. Roz?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What did you decide to bring?”

  “Can I bring a friend?” I asked, silencing the table in an instant.

  Ally looked around the group, counting each of us. “You have other friends?”

  “Is this a joke?” Carter asked.

  “Well, I mean, if Ally can invite Jasper—”

  “No,” Ally cut in. “I think what Carter meant was . . . you want to bring somebody? Who?”

  I sighed, and somehow, that’s all the evidence Carter needed to jump to conclusions.

  “Oh my god, guys . . . she has a boyfriend,” she said, cupping her mouth. “Roz has a boyfriend.”

  “What?” Ally asked. She turned to Mel for a reaction, but my other friend didn’t seem so surprised. “What does Mel know? What did you tell her?”

  “She didn’t tell me anything,” Mel said. “I just . . . know.”

  I looked quickly between all of my friends and wondered how in the world they’d gotten from friend to boyfriend to just knowing things; what did they know that I didn’t know?

  “Dad passed your house on the way home from the grocery store on Sunday morning,” Mel said.

  “Okay?”

  “Right around the time you were sliding out of a Wes Barrett tow truck.”

  “You and Wes Barrett?” Ally asked, slapping her hand over her mouth.

  “I assumed it was innocent at first,” Mel continued. “Until I remembered how eager you were to get away from the diner on Saturday night—when your parents were out of town. And you were alone. I put the pieces together. You’re dating Wes. And I was shocked when Dad told me, but also impressed. Wes is adorable, and he’s probably the sweetest guy on the planet. But I would’ve never imagined the two of you together.”

  Ally looked to Mel. “I didn’t know you knew him well enough to judge.”

  “I know enough,” she admitted. “I mean, he stops in every now and then for lunch, and we make small talk during downtime. It took a few visits to pull him out of his shell, but he’s come around, and I gotta tell ya . . . he’s a funny guy. I like him. He works hard, and he keeps to himself, and I’ve never known him to be anything but sweet. Oh, and the big bonus: he’s a generous tipper, so he’s a winner in my book.” She smirked. “But he’s just so quiet, and I always pictured Roz with someone a little louder, a little more her speed, I guess.”

  “Wait, who’s Wes Barrett?” Carter asked, but I threw my hands up.

  “Guys, stop,” I said. “It’s not Wes.” They looked between each other, and then three sets of eyes drifted back to me. “I was only with him because he has my car.”

  “What’s wrong with your—”

  “Itty bitty fender bender,” I said, waving a hand to spare them the details. “It’s at the body shop.”

  I gave them the same surface-level play-by-play of events that I’d given Mom on Sunday morning. Some guy hit my car. By the time I’d finished my story, none of my friends were happy that I hadn’t called to tell them what had happened, but what could they expect me to say? I was still trying to believe the whole thing!

  “So if not Wes,” Mel said, studying me, “are you dating someone from school?”

  “Yeah, do we know him?” Carter asked.

 
“Guys,” I said, half-laughing. “I never said I was dating anyone. I asked if I could bring a friend.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “Yes or no?” I asked, refusing to answer Ally’s question. “Would you guys care if I brought—”

  “The more the merrier,” Mel said. “Bring whoever you want.”

  Ally and Carter nodded in agreement, but then Ally looked down to her clipboard.

  “You know, you still haven’t answered my question,” she said. “What are you bringing to dinner?”

  “Same thing I always bring,” I said. “Drinks and dessert.”

  “Jasper’s got dessert this year,” Ally said.

  “Right.” I nodded. “But I think I’ll pick up an award-winning, Delta-made, lemon meringue . . . just to get under his skin.”

  “You’re evil.” Ally pointed a finger at me. “I like it.”

  Mel sat up. “Delta stopped taking holiday pie orders yesterday.”

  “It’s for tomorrow, though, not Thursday,” I said. “Will that matter?”

  “You can ask.”

  “Will do,” I said, sliding out of the booth. I stopped over at the counter where Delta always sat to take tickets and run the cash register. Out of earshot of the girls, I leaned down. “Delta, how are you?”

  “Living the good life,” she said, a youthful vibrancy in her tone. Everyone loved that about her; she may’ve been around for eight long decades, but she had the spirit of a teenager. “What can I do for you?”

  I lowered my voice. “Can this stay between us?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need a job,” I said, turning to one of the few people I hadn’t asked yet.

  Yesterday I was on Cloud Nine, but it was time to come back down to Earth.

  I needed money, and I’d purposely avoided the diner and the pet shelter, hoping my friends wouldn’t find out how desperately I was looking for work. I wasn’t in any position to be picky at this point, so I had to break down and ask.