First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,13
Ava!”
I can’t breathe.
“You should’ve let me die like I wanted!”
“STOP IT!” I scream, my throat scratching with the force. I can feel the physical cracking of my heart… right before its collapse.
“Ava,” Trevor whispers, his arms going around me.
I fight against his hold and break free, pushing him out of the way. Then I run outside. I need to fill my lungs with air. Because I feel like I’m drowning. Like I’ve been underwater for almost three years, and I can’t—I can’t take a breath that isn’t liquified heartache or hope, and I’m done.
I’m so fucking done.
Connor
Dad works a double shift during Christmas because money. And not the “cool” version of money. But real-life paper money to make up for what we spent on the invitational I attended. Rhys invited me to spend the day at his house, and when I mentioned I didn’t want to intrude on his family time, he laughed, said that Christmas at his house was the biggest blowout of the year and that most of the team attend after their own Christmas dinners. So, I go. Because really? What else am I going to do? Dad and his work partner, Tony, were invited, too. They came, ate the smorgasbord of food that was offered, but had to leave soon after. Emergencies stop for no one, apparently.
Now it’s dark out, and the team plus Karen are hanging in Rhys’s room while the grown-ups have a giant orgy downstairs. Not really. But that’s the story Mitch keeps telling. “If I were down there, I’d choose Karen’s mom,” he says.
Karen scoffs. “She’d turn you down faster than Connor turned me down.”
“Burn,” Rhys laughs.
I turn to Karen, narrow my eyes.
“What?” She giggles. “It’s true!”
Things with Karen and me were weird for a hot minute. Then she called me a fuckboy, whatever that means, and told me my jump shot was weak. We’ve been fine ever since.
There’s a knock on Rhys’s door, and we all hide the alcohol we managed to sneak up. “Yeah?” Rhys calls out.
His mom pokes her head in. “Did you hand out the gifts, pookie bear?”
The entire room burst out in cackles.
“Yeah, pookie bear,” Mitch mocks. “Did you?”
Rhys sighs, then offers his mom a toothy grin. “I’ll do it now. Thanks, Mom!” She closes the door, and Rhys goes to his closet, pulls out a giant garbage bag of gifts. “Have at it,” he says, dropping the bag in the middle of the floor.
We dive in like kids at a party when the piñata breaks, fighting and wrestling for gifts we don’t even deserve. I rip mine open, my eyes widening when I see what’s inside. “Yo, this is a Louis Vuitton wallet. I think maybe—”
“Mine too!” Oscar announces, already transferring his cards.
“Damn,” I laugh. “You guys really do live in another world.” I move to the window, flick open a gap in the blinds to see all the cars parked on the front lawn—by valets, of course. And that’s when I catch sight of her. I’d recognize those loose curls anywhere. She’s sitting in front of her old house, just like the day of the cafeteria incident. And I understand that she doesn’t want anything to do with me, but seeing her like this, remembering how she was back then, I can’t help but go to her. If she needs me, I’m here. Always. I tell whoever is listening, “I’ll be back.”
I try to make my presence known because I don’t want to startle her, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Ava’s transfixed, chin up, staring at the house she used to call home. “Hey,” I croak.
Slowly, she turns to me, and even in her apparent hopelessness, she’s still stunningly beautiful.
My heart heavy, I ask, “Can I sit with you?”
Turning back to the house, she nods, a movement so slight I almost miss it.
I sit down next to her, ignoring the icy ground beneath me. “You okay?” I ask.
Ava doesn’t respond immediately. She just stares, her blinks slow. “It’s so nice, huh?”
“The house?”
“Yeah,” she sighs out. “We used to hang colored lights out during Christmas. They only have white ones, but it’s still so beautiful.”
“It is,” I murmur, but I’m not looking at the lights. I’m looking at her.
She inhales deeply, her voice quiet when she says, “Sometimes I come here and just look at it. I try to remember all the good times I had there, the happy memories, but I can never seem to think of anything but… but the blood.”