by McLean, Jay
My laptop starts to play another video, this one with sound, and Trevor peers over my shoulder to look at it. It’s a Connor Ledger highlight reel, and I lower my gaze, waiting for his response.
“Jesus Christ, Ava, I thought you were done with this jerk.”
“Don’t call him that,” I hiss.
He pushes past me, his anger tensing his shoulders, and snaps the screen shut. Then he turns to me. “You shouldn’t even be looking at this stuff. You’re just going to make things harder for yourself.”
“Shut up,” I argue. “You did the same with Amy and her new boyfriend. You stalked the hell out of her.”
“You did?” Amy asks.
Trevor shakes his head, his nose flaring with his exhale. “That’s not the same!”
“Why? Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about his life or his future.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t. He’s a piece of shit for telling you what he did!”
“No! You’re a piece of shit for keeping it a secret from me!”
“I was doing it to protect you!”
“Well, a lot of good that did!” I yell, forgetting that Mom’s asleep in the next room. “And this is all your fault anyway!”
“Mine?”
“Yes. Remember when you said—” I deepen my voice to mimic his. “You can date, Ava. You’d make a great girlfriend.” I slump down on my bed, my brows furrowed. And because I’m a brat, I cross my arms and pout. “I should’ve never listened to you!”
Trevor laughs, short and hysterical. “You want to blame me because your ex turned out to be King Dick?!”
“Get out!” Amy and I order in unison.
Trevor’s eyes widen, focusing first on me, then Amy. “What?!”
“Get out,” Amy says, her tone a hell of a lot calmer than mine. She presses her hands to his chest, trying to soothe him with her touch. “Let Ava and me have a little girl chat, okay?”
Trevor grunts, but kisses her anyway. “Fine.”
Once Trevor’s out of the room, the door closed between us, Amy settles on my bed, her back against the wall. She pats the spot next to her, so I scoot back and sit like she is. Reaching across me, she grabs my pillow and hands it to me. “Scream into it.”
“What?”
“Scream into it,” she repeats. “Get your frustration out now so you can talk to me without anger swaying your words.”
I scream into the pillow.
“Did it help?”
“Yeah,” I lie. It didn’t help at all.
“So, this boy… Connor, right?”
I nod. “How much do you know?”
She picks at a rip in her jeans. “Trevor and I have been talking a lot lately. He’s pretty much kept me updated on everything he knows. But I’m sure there’s a lot he doesn’t know, so maybe you could tell me those parts?”
It feels so freeing to be able to talk to someone, to be able to share everything that Connor and I experienced. Both the good and the bad, but especially the good, because there was so much of it. And I had no one else to share that joy with, that excitement. I tell her everything that happened up till now, and I speak through my disappointment when I tell her of the way I talked to Mom the day of Connor’s tournament and then through my heartache when I tell her about Connor and Karen.
“Do you honestly believe that something happened with them?” she asks quietly. It’s the first time she’s spoken throughout my entire speech, but I know she’s been listening based on her nods, frowns, and smiles at all the appropriate times.
“I don’t know,” I admit through a sigh.
“Have you and he…?”
I shake my head.
“Have you ever?”
I nod.
“Has he ever?”
“No,” I murmur. “I know what you’re thinking. But, I just… I don’t see him doing it just for the sake of doing it.” I remember when I brought it up to him when we were at the lake, and he said he was scared, but maybe alcohol and Karen combined… “But I think there’s an emotional connection there, one I can’t compete with, and I think that’s what hurts the most. That and the fact that he lied to me.”
Amy huffs out a breath, her blond bangs shifting with the force. “I’m sorry, Ava. You’re in such a tough situation and throwing a relationship in the mix, it just makes things so much harder for you.” She nudges my side. “Can I see what he looks like?”
Nodding, I reach for my laptop and set it on my lap. Then I lift the screen, find Connor’s profile on the school website.
Amy lets out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. No wonder you’re having a hard time letting go. He’s hot.”
“I know,” I murmur. “I hate him.”
She giggles. “You have any of you two together?”
I open up the folder on the desktop titled “Connor 4 Ava” and go through the pictures of us together. Mainly pictures he’d sent me taken on his phone, selfies in his car or at the bleachers.
Amy grabs the laptop from me so she can take a closer look, picture after picture bringing back memories, causing more misery to my heartache.
“You look so happy, Ava,” she says.
I push down the knot in my throat. “I was.”
“And so in love.”
I can’t fight back the sob in time. “I was.”
“Oh, honey,” she coos, wrapping me in her arms. “I wish I could fix this for you.”
I sniff back the pain and wipe my eyes on her shoulder. “Thank you for listening,” I whisper. “I’ve missed having you around.”
She sighs, strokes my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Trevor knocks on the door and doesn’t wait for a response. I make sure my eyes are clear before pulling away. “Did you tell her?” he asks Amy.
Amy shakes her head, gets up to stand next to him.
I look up at the both of them. “Tell me what?”
“Amy and her family have asked me to visit over Thanksgiving. Do you think you’ll be okay if I go?” He takes Amy’s hand in his, and they both watch me, eyes wide. Trevor adds, “Peter’s offered to stay with you.”
Peter.
I swallow, nervous, unease flowing through my veins. But when I look at them, at the strength of their love and the hope in their hearts, I say, “Of course you can go, you idiot.”
Chapter 3
Connor
It’s the final period of the last day before Thanksgiving break and every one of my classes has been a washout. Even the teachers are already in holiday mode. The PA sounds with an alert for an announcement, and Principal Brown’s voice crackles through the speakers. He starts with the general greeting, followed by a bunch of uninteresting reports, and then he says, “And a special shout-out to our very own Connor Ledger, who’ll be spending the break at the Crossland Invitational in Indiana.” I bury my head in my hands while everyone around me cheers. Face red with embarrassment, I glance up when he adds, “With only a hundred students from across the country selected to experience this once in a lifetime opportunity, it should be noted how very proud we are of you. Great job, Connor! Everyone else, have a safe and enjoyable break. We’ll see you on the other side… well-rested, I hope.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, again and again, but I don’t check it. Part of Dad’s punishment for throwing my old one at the wall and smashing it was replacing it with a bright pink flip phone from the year four. It has physical buttons—ones you have to press numerous times to get the right letter to appear.
When the final bell rings, everyone rushes out the doors, their excitement evident in the cheers and hollers. I head out to the student parking lot to meet up with Rhys, who’s been giving me rides to and from school ever since my car died and Dad and I deemed it not worthy of fixing. And even though Dad’s car sits in the driveway when I’m at school because he’s at home asleep, he refuses to let me drive it—another part of my punishment. This one for damaging my shooting hand. The downside to gett
ing rides is that Rhys likes to hang around after school, shooting the shit with the rest of the guys. Me? I just want to get home.
“Our very own Conner Ledger, everyone!” Mitch announces, his hands cupped around his mouth as I make my way toward them.
I shake my head, narrow my eyes at him.
“Aww, but we’re all so proud of you!” Karen says through a giggle, ruffling my hair as I walk past her to dump my bag in Rhys’s car.
“That wasn’t embarrassing at all,” I murmur.
Rhys laughs, pretends to take a crown off his head and place it on mine. “You’re the king of the school now.”
Mitch scoffs, takes the imaginary crown and throws it on the ground, then stomps on it. “I was always the king, you fuckers.”
“King of the asshole patrol,” Oscar chimes.
“Fuck off,” Mitch huffs.
I chuckle. “Get mad about it, you overcooked six-pack of Chicken McNobodies.”
Karen busts out a laugh, her hand going to my shoulder to keep upright.
“Speaking of king of the school,” Rhys says, motioning to a car pulling right up to the school steps.
I recognize the car and immediately stand taller.
Rhys adds, “What’s Peter Parker doing here?”
“Ava’s Peter?” Mitch comments.
My brow dips. “What do you mean Ava’s Peter?”
Rhys shakes his head. “Not like that. He just means we know him through Ava.”
“No,” Mitch deadpans. “I mean, let’s be real. He’s probably fucked the daylights—”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warn.
Mitch laughs. “What’s it to you? As if you and Karen aren’t—”
“We’re not,” I cut in, shoving Karen’s hand off my shoulder. I push off Rhys’s car, my eyes searching for Ava. It doesn’t take long to find her. Head lowered, she comes down the school steps gripping the straps of her bag. She notices Peter’s car and smiles at him the way she used to smile at me. He gets out to greet her with a hug that lasts too long, and I feel the moment my shoulders deflate. He keeps his arms around her waist while she pulls back, her hands pressed against his chest, and I wonder if she feels the same thing there—at the place where life lives—as she felt with me. Finally, he releases her, and then she’s on her toes, her eyes wild, searching for something. They land on me, and my pulse becomes volatile. My breaths stop as she walks toward me, and everyone and everything around me is silent. All I hear is the thumping of my heart. One beat. Two. She stops a few feet in front of me, her gaze lowered as she white-knuckles the straps. “Hey.”
I manage a “hey” back.
Her eyes lift to mine. “Do you have a minute?”
I swallow my nerves. “Sure.”
She takes a step back, implying I follow, and so I do. Because I’d follow her to the ends of the fucking earth if she’d let me. “That was quite a speech Brown praised you with,” she mumbles, looking at her feet as we stroll toward Peter’s car. He’s leaning against the hood, his arms crossed, eyes on us.
“It was possibly the most embarrassing moment of my life.”
Her laugh is short. Sharp. “It’s kind of a big deal, though, so I get why he wanted to announce it to the world.”
I shrug.
“Anyway,” she says, stopping halfway to Peter’s car. “I um…” She blows out a heavy breath, then shakes her head. “It’s so stupid now that I’m here…”
“What’s going on?”
Her throat bobs, and she reaches into her pocket. “I got you something.” She reveals a handful of bright orange balloons. With her voice low, she says, “You said once that it was your lucky charm.” Her eyes meet mine, anguish pooling in their depths. “And I thought you might be nervous, so they’re there if you want them or need them—if they mean anything still.” She holds them up between us, but I can’t move.
Can’t speak.
Can’t look away.
“I knew it was stupid,” she mumbles, turning to leave.
“No. I want them!” I quickly grab her arm. “Please?” I hold my hand out, palm up, and she places them there. I can see the black marker mixed with orange, and the weight in my chest doubles.
“I should go,” she says quietly. “Peter’s waiting.”
I nod. “So, what’s with that? Are you guys…?”
“No,” she laughs out. “God, no. He’s staying with me over the break.”
“Oh.” Jealousy is a bitch. “He doesn’t have his own home?”
She’s quiet a beat as she chews her bottom lip, and I push away the memories of me doing the same to that lip, in my bed, with her half-naked and on top of me while she looked down at me as if our love knew no boundaries. “Trevor’s going away with Amy—”
“His ex?” I interrupt.
Her eyes widen, just a tad. “You remember?”
I nod again. “I remember a lot.” I remember everything. And a part of me hates that I do.
“They’re back together now, so that’s kind of cool,” she tells me, looking over my shoulder where Peter is waiting for her.
When her eyes meet mine again, I say, “So, what you’re telling me is that people can break up, but there’s hope they can find their way back to each other again?”
Ava stares. Right into me. “Good luck at the invitational, okay?”
My heart sinks, and I suck in a breath to lessen the ache. “Yeah, okay.”
I look down at the balloons in my hand while she steps around me. And just when I think I can move again, she calls out from behind, “Hey, Connor?”
I spin on my heels. “Yeah?”
She’s only two steps away, and with the smallest of smiles pulling on her lips, she says, “I know that things are different between us now, but I’m always going to be proud of you, of how hard you’ve worked for this, and that’s never going to change.”
“Thanks, Ava,” I tell her, my voice clear. “It means a lot.”
It means everything.
Chapter 4
Connor
Connor: Ur da only 1 I no whod b up @ 4:40 a m, n I jst needed 2 tell u dat my roommate is snoring. & not da ok, I can get thru dis type of snoring. I mean, chainsaw 2 a redwood. My ears hurt.
Ava: Why are you typing like you’re 12?
Connor: Bc old fone had fight wid a wall & Dad gave me n old flip fone wid only numbers. I sick of pressing buttons.
Ava: Is this the same wall that came at your fist?
Connor: Maybe
Ava: Idiot
Connor: Thx
Ava: Go 2 sleep. Big day 2day.
Connor: It’s hot pink
Ava: What is?
Connor: Da fone
Ava: LOL
Connor: He juz sed TITTIES
Ava: ?
Connor: Snorin roommate
Ava: Connor, you need to get some rest. Throw something at him.
Connor: Shoe?
Ava: Not yours. His.
Connor: K
Connor: He up now. He go for run. I go sleep.
Ava: Goodnight.
Connor: Thx
* * *
Connor: its mixed.
Ava: ?
Connor: There r grls.
Ava: At the invitational?
Connor: yes
Ava: Oh, I bet they love you.
Connor: 10
Ava: 10 girls?
Connor: Yes
Ava: Showed any of them your weenus?
Connor: lol no. grls hv cooties
* * *
Connor: Guess who splurged and got a cheap but much better phone?
Ava: I’m assuming the person who’s currently texting me using full words (thank God).
Connor: I feel like a new man.
Ava: Shouldn’t you be running up and down a court?
Connor: We’re having a break.
Ava: And you’re messaging me?
Connor: I needed to tell someone about my new phone.
* * *
Connor: What are you doing?
Ava: Trying to show Peter how to use a washing machine.
Connor: How does he not know how to use one already?
Ava: Life of privilege, I guess. What’s up?
Connor: Nothing, just having dinner with a few of the guys.
Ava: Then you should really be present, no?
Connor: We’re all on our phones.
Ava: I have to go. Peter’s about to wash a red shirt with whites.
Connor: You should let him.
Ava: That would be mean.
* * *
Connor: Ava
Ava: Connor
Connor: Hi
Ava: What’s up?
Connor: Can’t sleep.
Ava: …
Connor: I should probably break this habit, huh?
Ava: I don’t know, Connor. I think so, yeah…
Connor: Sorry.
* * *
Connor: Dad and I are about to board our flight home. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for contacting you as much as I did. I guess I’m still struggling to get over you, which is my problem, not yours. And I thought maybe the balloons meant something, but obviously, I was wrong. I guess I’ll see you around. Sorry again.
Chapter 5
Connor
“I’m beat,” I tell Dad, my head rolling against the passenger’s seat of his car as I look up at the familiar street lights.
“Yeah, I bet. You had a full-on few days there, son.”
I close my eyes. “Wake me when we get home.”
“We’re pulling onto the street now,” he says through a chuckle.
“Those few seconds will help, trust me.”
He rounds the end of the cul-de-sac, then taps my leg. “We’re home.”
“Already?” I joke.
We’re out and unpacking our luggage a moment later when Ava’s porch light comes on. She steps out in sweatpants and a too-big Texas A&M hoodie. Jealousy burns a hole in my chest. She puts one earphone in and then sits down on a bench on her porch that wasn’t there before I left. Shifting my focus away from her, I grab the last of our bags from Dad’s truck.
