All lies. I tossed and turned last night, wishing Eli would respond to me, yet he never did. Why not? No way could he have been with that girl.
Could he?
My entire body burns just thinking about him being with someone else.
Jake eventually sits, and so does Mom, bringing my coffee and the platter of French toast with her. We all dig in, passing the French toast around. All of us grabbing some bacon. No one’s talking. The only sound in the room is silverware against plates and chewing.
I feel on edge. Like they’re going to spring something on me halfway through the meal. Do they know something I don’t? Am I somehow going to end up in more trouble than I originally thought? God, Eli didn’t take any…compromising photos of me, did he? And then release them onto social media so anyone could see them? Including my parents?
Okay, my imagination is running wild. Taking a deep, calming breath, I reach for my coffee and sip from the cup, my gaze latching onto Jake’s to find he’s already watching me.
“Your so-called boyfriend has already moved on,” he says snidely.
These are the first words he’s said to me since we sat at the table.
“Jake.” Dad’s voice is firm. “Stop.”
“What? It’s true.” The faintest smirk curls his lips. “I saw it on Snapchat. Some girl was giving him a lap dance, and it looked like he was enjoying it.”
My heart drops, and my appetite disappears. I push the plate away from me, crossing my arms. “Are you purposely being a dick or does it just come naturally to you?”
“Ava!” Mom sends me one of those don’t you dare looks, but currently, it has zero effect on me.
“At least I’m not the dick who chases after randos at a party and calls it nursing my broken heart,” Jake says, just before he takes a bite of bacon.
I’m so glad he can eat. That he can feel completely normal while I’m sitting here trying my best not to fall apart. And when I say fall apart, I don’t mean cry and carry on. I mean get pissed and scream at him.
Yeah. Right now I’m mad as hell.
“Aren’t you going to tell him to stop?” I ask my parents, pointing at Jake, who leans back in his chair with a smirk on his face. The same expression he had when he told me about Eli’s party last night. “He’s purposely trying to make me mad by saying awful things about Eli.”
“Please. Have some respect for the family and don’t say his name at the table,” Jake says, earning a dark glare from Dad, though he says nothing.
“Ignore him,” Mom says, waving her hand at Jake as if she’s easily dismissing his behavior.
“I can’t. He’s sitting right there, bullshit just pouring out of his mouth.” I glare at Jake, but he won’t even look at me.
Again.
Ugh.
Big brothers are the freaking worst.
“Ava, please. Language,” Dad says.
“I’m so sick of this.” I rise from my chair and storm off, ignoring their calls. Dad says my name, his tone sharp. Mom asks me to come back. Beck asks what’s wrong with me.
Jake just laughs.
I go to my room and grab my phone to see if I have a reply from Eli yet. I purposely left it in my room, so I could get away from it during breakfast. Get away from the incessant need to keep checking it for a notification from Eli.
Nothing. There’s nothing.
Slamming my phone onto the table, I crawl into bed and pull my comforter over my body until it’s even covering my head. I just let loose and cry into my pillow, silently cursing all boys, especially one in particular. I cry myself to sleep, grateful no one knocks on my door or asks if I’m okay. I’d rather be alone. With my thoughts.
With my sadness.
Monday morning and I’m exiting my car when the warning bell rings. I pick up my pace as I stride through the parking lot, though I know I’m wasting my time. I’m definitely going to be late to class. And I never get to school this late, but my motivation was zero this morning when the alarm went off.
Yesterday I did nothing but lie in bed. Waiting for Eli to respond to my text, which he never did. I still can’t believe it. He sends me those texts and then…nothing.
Really? So rude.
So typical.
My being late to school sets the tone for the rest of the day. I’m running late to everything. I fail a surprise pop quiz in math. My English teacher assigns a five-page essay on the latest book I was supposed to read—guess what, I didn’t—and it’s due Thursday. Every single teacher I have dumped mega homework on us. By the time school is finished and I’m at the cheer room getting ready for practice, my nerves are frayed. I change quickly into my practice clothes and decide to have a snack before we start. Dakota and Lindsey aren’t here yet, so I sit by myself on the floor, munching on Cheez-its when Brandy walks in, her gaze searching, before it lands on me.
And stays.
“I heard a rumor about you,” she says as she slowly approaches me.
I go completely still. Brandy hates the Mustangs with everything she’s got. She went to this high school too back in the day, so she can’t stand our rival team. Like sometimes she’s worse than us students.
Okay fine, most of the time she is.
“What did you hear?” I ask carefully, setting the snack bag of crackers aside.
She kneels down in front of me, her voice lowering. “Actually, it wasn’t a rumor. It was something I saw with my own two eyes.”
I blink at her, but remain quiet.
“You know what I saw, don’t you?” She tilts her head.
“I can take a guess,” I say slowly.
“Damn it, Ava! Really?” She settles in beside me and now we’re both leaning against the wall. She reaches for my crackers and takes a few, tossing them in her mouth.
“You never told me what you saw,” I say innocently.
She sends me a pointed look. “I don’t want to say it out loud, considering who’s in this room and they’re probably all trying to listen.”
I look around, spotting Cami and Baylee watching us with speculative gazes. They quickly avert their eyes when I catch them.
“Yeah. Them,” Brandy says when she sees who I’m staring at. “They’ll tear you apart over this, especially you-know-who.”
Cami. Who dated Eli. And my brother. Supposedly at the same time.
Closing my eyes, I exhale raggedly. “I have terrible taste in men.”
“Yeah, you do,” Brandy readily agrees with a little laugh. “Are you two really a thing or what?”
“We’re more in the or what territory right now.” I hesitate for only a moment before I decide to confess. I really like Brandy. And she knows how to keep a secret. I probably shouldn’t be talking like this with my coach, but screw it. “Jake found out about us.”
“Oh man. I bet that was bad.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, it was worse,” I tell her, making her laugh. But she’s not laughing at me. I can tell her laugh is one of sympathy. She’s feeling for me.
And I appreciate that. I’d rather laugh at the absurdity of it all. It’s either that or I fall apart crying yet again.
Considering I’ve been on the verge of tears since late Friday night, I’ll gladly take this distraction.
“You can’t keep it up with that kid,” she says, her voice dead serious. “He’s insane.”
“You’ve heard the stories?”
“Honey, I’ve heard every single one. You kids think you move through this school and that the adults are oblivious to what’s going on. More like you guys are oblivious.” She leans in close. “I know all.”
That’s terrifying.
“Most of us do,” she continues. “And we hear what’s happening at the other schools too. Crazy shit. Things I’m not even allowed to tell you.”
Okay. That’s ominous.
“So yeah. I know all about Eli Bennett and what a troublemaker he is. All the stories he’s made trash-talking your brother and the rest of the football team. T
he car accidents and the girls and the fights and that one time when he got caught on campus with a wax pen.” She clamps her lips shut and shakes her head once. “Wasn’t supposed to reveal that one. Forget I said that. And the teachers threatening to flunk him if he doesn’t get his act together. Yep, I have heard every single story there is out there about Eli Bennett.”
“You didn’t hear about the two of us together until Friday,” I tell her, feeling pretty proud of our secret keeping abilities.
“And I’m assuming you two are already done.”
I look away from her, not wanting to believe it. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“He’s bad news, Ava. But sometimes, we like bad news. We think we can turn it into good. Most of the time, it’s already a lost cause.” Brandy pats my shoulder before she rises to her feet. “You should give Wyatt a chance. He’s a sweet guy—he’s good. I bet he’d make the perfect boyfriend.”
He doesn’t make my heart race like Eli. He doesn’t make me feel like I could burst into flames from just a look. Like Eli. Wyatt is nice. He’s cute. He’s smart. Brandy isn’t wrong. He’d make a great boyfriend.
Not for me though.
Never for me.
Seven
Eli
Shit goes wrong for me all the time, swear to God. Sometimes, I can blame myself. I know I get myself into sketchy situations, and it’s usually because of my big mouth. Other times, it’s the idiots in my life who fuck things over for me.
Like my parents.
I spent the majority of my Sunday afternoon cleaning up the house and backyard after the party. Mom followed me everywhere I went to ensure I ‘tidied it up to her satisfaction’, direct quote, nagging my ass the entire time. Once that torture was over, I was expected to go to dinner with my father. He wouldn’t stop telling me what a disappointment I was, until I got so pissed off, I told him to go to hell. He asked me very calmly to hand over my phone. So reluctantly, I did.
And now I have no way to communicate with anyone. Specifically, my blonde heartless beauty, who I never responded to in the first place. Which is fine, you know? I keep making Ava sweat, when that girl has made me sweat on a regular basis throughout our relationship.
Now, our relationship is probably a pile of ashes after a raging fire. We were an inferno, we burned hot and bright, and now we’re out. No smoldering. No coals. It’s just…
Gone.
I tend to get a little poetic when I think about that girl and our crazy relationship. It’s just the romantic in me, I guess.
It’s Monday, and my school is a cesspool of gossip. My party is all the talk. So is the homecoming dance at the other high school. The dance I should’ve been at. And there’s another topic of conversation too.
“I tried to keep it down, but word on campus is you were banging Ava Callahan,” Jackson tells me at lunch.
I send him an annoyed look before I tear into a bag of Dorito’s. “Don’t even bring up her name.”
“Oh. Let me rephrase that then.” Jackson leans across the picnic table we’re sitting at and stares deep into my eyes. “People are saying you fucked she-who-shall-not-be-named just to get revenge on her brother.”
“Let them talk. They’d still say that, even if they knew the truth.” I stare into the open bag of Dorito’s, remembering Ava and I sharing some in my room that one night when I told her I loved her.
Shit.
“And what’s the truth?” Jackson asks, his voice full of mocking innocence.
That I love her? That having sex with her was unlike any other experience I’ve ever had? Can’t admit that. I’ll look like a complete pussy. He already knows I’ve still got a boner for her. Look at how he said all that shit about her Saturday and I almost beat his face in.
Besides, do I still love her? Was what happened between us love to begin with?
“The truth is, I had a relationship with Ava, and right now, we’re taking a break,” I explain, before I stuff a couple of chips in my mouth and start eating.
“You’re taking a break? Get outta here. That’s the kiss of death for a relationship dude, and you know it.” Jackson shakes his head, a little smile curling his lips. He’s enjoying this shit. My life has turned into nonstop drama, and Jackson is totally here for it. “I could give you a list of couples we both know who went on a break and eventually broke up. Every single one of them.”
We’re not on an official break, so I guess I wouldn’t put us on that list. “Who cares what we’re doing? Besides, I thought no one noticed us hugging on the sidelines except you.”
“You thought wrong.”
Unease washes over me, but I act like his words don’t bother me. “Provide some evidence then.”
“Haven’t you been on your phone this weekend? So much evidence keeps popping up, I can’t track it all.”
“I wasn’t on my phone much yesterday. I was busy cleaning up after our party. You are all a bunch of messy motherfuckers.” Jackson laughs. I glare. “And then I went to dinner with my dad, which was a total fiasco. He called me insubordinate—I don’t even know what the hell that means—and that I give my mother endless shit. Gave me a big old lecture, forced me to promise I would do better, I agreed, and that asshole still took my phone away from me. I’m phoneless.” Told me if I was such a big man who wouldn’t listen to reason, then maybe I could pay for my own phone. The bastard.
Jackson rolls his eyes. “Parents suck,” he says, as he starts swiping on his phone, going in and out of apps. He turns his phone in my direction and shows me a story that’s been screen recorded with me sitting in the background, getting that lap dance from Josie.
“Are you the one who screen recorded this?” I ask him. It seems like such a girl thing to do.
“Nope.”
“Why are you showing it to me? What’s it got to do with me and Ava?” I’m irritated just watching it. You can tell by my expression I’m drunk as hell and barely staying upright. Josie is really working it, but for the most part, I look pretty bored. Or ready to pass out.
“I heard Ava saw that video and lost her damn mind,” Jackson says.
I shake my head, thoroughly confused. “Where are you hearing this stuff?”
“I have sources,” he says ominously. “Now. Then there’s this.” He shows me a photo. It’s taken from a distance, like across the football field, and you can see me and Ava on the sidelines, my arms wrapped tightly around her, her head pressed against my chest. Her comforting me after that colossal loss. My heart fucking aches just looking at it, because we were different then. Before her brother said all that shit and made me come for him.
Well, I could’ve controlled my impulses, but at that moment, it felt so goddamn right to kick his ass, I went on pure instinct.
“Where did you find this? Who’s seen this photo?” I ask.
“Not sure. It was posted on someone’s Snap story and then taken down within the hour.” Jackson sends me a pointed look. “There are spies everywhere. And there are people watching you and Ava. Very closely, especially now.”
We’re sitting with a few other friends, including Brenden who’s ready to spring away from the table at any given moment the second he sees Kayla enter the quad. God knows where she’s at. Jackson and I are sitting at the end of the table, a little distance between us and the rest of the group. I glance around to see if anyone’s listening to our conversation, then lower my voice. “Ava and I aren’t even together right now. Like I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah you’re on a break,” Jackson says, waving a hand. “What the hell ever. You guys are so done.”
I sit up straighter. “No, we’re not.”
“You totally are. The fact that you don’t have your phone right now? Makes it worse,” he says firmly. “You can’t even communicate with her. Your ship has sailed. It’s over.”
“Jackson, shut the fuck up. Go…sing a song for one of your groupies,” I mutter. I reach into the chip bag only to come up empty, which pisses me off further. I crum
ple the bag and toss it right at Jackson’s smug face.
“What the hell is wrong with you? You can usually come up with some pretty good shit to say. Right now, you’re weak. Like a baby kitten.” Jackson grabs the crumpled bag and throws it back at me. I bat it away with my hand before it hits my face. “Grow some balls, man. If anyone asks you about Ava, tell them to fuck the hell right off. And if you still want her, forget this ‘we’re on a break’ bullshit. Go to her and tell her how you feel.”
Nope. Can’t do it. I might’ve been weak as a baby kitten when I sent her that text Saturday night, but that was a slip. A drunken mishap when I was overcome with jealousy over seeing her with that Wyatt douche.
If I went to her and told her how I felt, I’d probably push her against the wall and kiss the shit out of her. Maybe even try and feel her up. Slip my fingers inside her panties. Whatever I could get, I would take because I’m greedy like that.
Greedy for her.
My overwhelming feelings for her almost—scare me. I want her so bad, even when she does me wrong. I’ll forgive her too easily. I know I will. Maybe I need to be stronger, and focus on myself first.
Yeah. That probably won’t happen.
“She has to come to me first,” I tell Jackson, who rolls his eyes at me. “I’m not the one who did wrong here. She did.”
“Pathetic,” Jackson mutters.
“Since when do you want me to get with her? Just a few nights ago, you were saying how all women were evil bitches.”
“I said that?” Jackson sounds surprised.
“Something like it, yeah,” I say, trying to remember exactly what he said and coming up empty. “Maybe. I don’t know. You got all heated.”
“I did?”
“Definitely.”
“Huh. I was drunk Saturday. And high as fuck.” Jackson scratches the side of his head, looking confused. “I’ve not had the best luck with long-term relationships. I prefer to avoid them.”
Meant To Be (The Callahans Book 4) Page 6
