as I am, I hung onto it, even though I’d basically just rejected him for his brother who had already made it clear he would never want me.
Even though the date ended a complete bust, Grayson, always the gentleman, walked me to my door.
“I’m sorry for losing it on you tonight.”
Grayson tipped my chin up until he could see my eyes. I wasn’t surprised by his understanding smile, but it hurt my heart. I didn’t deserve his understanding.
“Let’s consider it a good thing.”
I frowned. How in the world was this mess I’d made a good thing?
As if reading my mind, Grayson grinned. “I think we’ve officially reached the fourth stage of grief. Perhaps tonight was more of a success than we thought, eh?”
I had to think back and repeat all the stages of grief, even though it should have been obvious. “Guilt!”
Grayson laughed. He stepped forward and dropped a feather light kiss on my cheek. “One step closer to acceptance, Aves.”
He flashed me a beautiful smile and then winked at me as he climbed in his car and drove off.
Grayson
Of all the stages of grief, so far guilt sucks the most. My date with Avery had been perfect. She looked amazing, she faced an insane party for me, and she was even having a good time! She severely dominated my best friend at a game of pool, making me the envy of every guy in the room . . . and then there was that dance.
She said she’d never felt anything like that, but what she doesn’t know is that I hadn’t either. Even with the countless girls I’d danced with, or done a whole lot more with, never in my whole life had I felt a connection like I did with Avery that night.
Forget my idiot brother. Avery was never meant to be with him. She was supposed to be with me. But, thanks to him, we didn’t kiss that night. In fact the perfect evening ended so disastrous that I was worried she’d never speak to me again.
She didn’t call Saturday or Sunday, and then at school the following week, she really distanced herself. She still sat with me at lunch and didn’t pull away when I put my arm around her or held her hand, but it was different now. It was like she wouldn’t allow herself to feel anything for me, not even friendship. I hated it.
She didn’t come to school on Friday, and then I got another weekend of radio silence. I tried to call her a couple times, but I only got voicemail. When she didn’t show up at lunch Monday, I really started to get worried.
“Maybe I should call her mom,” I said for the umpteenth time. I looked across the table, hoping for some advice from Pamela and Chloe, but they were busy looking over my shoulder with wide incredulous eyes.
Owen and I looked at each other and then turned around at the same time.
Avery’s friend Libby was standing there tapping a foot impatiently with her arms crossed. Her hair was in two buns on the top of her head that had tiny strands of hair sticking out from them in every direction. She was also wearing a giant hot pink t-shirt with a picture of a bored looking cat on it that said, “Do I look like I care about your problems?”
I’d seen this girl before at the science club meetings I was forced to attend every Monday after school, but my friends had never been exposed to the holy little terror, and they clearly didn’t know what to make of her.
When he could hold back no longer, Owen snorted and said, “Nice shirt.”
Libby’s eyes narrowed, and her hands went to her hips. “I make it work,” she said matter-of-factly. She gave her head a little jerk and said, “Heard my girl Avery stomped you so hard in a game of pool last weekend that Grayson had to take pity on you before every college freshman at UVU saw just how small your junk is.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. I laughed so hard I cried, and when I got a hold of myself, I realized that everyone at the table was laughing just as hard as I was. “Damn, Grayson!” Owen laughed and had to wipe tears from his eyes. “Where did you dig this chick up? Is she for real?”
“She’s a nerd to be reckoned with, that’s for sure,” I said. “She’s Avery’s best friend. Libby, Owen.