same since Thanksgiving break… when I told him he needed to stop pressuring me about certain choices I refuse to make.
As for me, I’ve been trying more to take care of me. Of my happiness. And with Krystal around during the day, I’ve been able to have a little more freedom than what I’m used to. So far, I’ve taken the first steps to get a learner’s permit, walked through the local park, ridden on random buses people-watching, and sat through an entire movie at the theater on my own. I’ve also been keeping in touch with Karen. Just a few messages here and there. We’re definitely not going to have the same level of friendship from years ago, not because neither of us doesn’t want that, it’s just… we grew up and became different people. And then there’s Rhys. Rhys will always be Rhys.
Now, I’m trying to do the one thing I’ve been putting off the entire break.
I walk up Connor’s porch steps for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes. I get to his door, raise my fist to knock, then chicken out at the last second. I walk down the steps, give myself a pep talk, and then walk right back up.
It should be easy: knock, ask if he wants to hang out and see where things go from there. But it’s not easy, because…
Because what if he says no?
I run down the steps and make it all the way down his driveway before releasing the breath I’d been holding. I look over at my house, remember what’s in there. Who is in there. And remember my reason.
I can’t be who she needs me to be if I’m miserable. And Connor—he helps take away the misery.
“Come on, Ava,” I whisper, shaking out my hands. I practically run up to his door and knock without letting my thoughts overtake me. Only a few seconds pass before the door opens. Connor’s in a loose, long-sleeve tee and basketball shorts, and somehow it all still manages to showcase his perfect body. I drop my gaze, try to calm my breathing. He’s barefoot, and I’ve never really paid attention to his feet but, Jesus, even they’re hot.
“Hey,” he says, all cool and calm, as if it didn’t take all the courage in the world for me to be standing in front of him. “What’s up?”
When I look up, he’s biting into an apple, his eyebrows raised.
“I uh…” I was wondering if you’d want to hang out. The words are right there, on the tip of my tongue, and I should just say it, just blurt it out, but my insecurities get the best of me, so I point behind me to the truck in his driveway. “Is that yours?” Oh, my God. What if it isn’t his? It’s been in his driveway for days, so I assumed he got a new car, but what if… what if he has a girl—
“Uh huh,” he says, looking over my shoulder at it.
“It’s pretty.” I roll my eyes, internally slap myself. “You know… for a truck.”
He stands taller, looks down at me, his brow knitted. “Did you need a ride somewhere?”
I nod. A lie. But he won’t say no to a ride if he’s offering… right? “Just to the store real quick? We’re out of… fruit.”
“Fruit?” he asks, smirking as he bites into his apple again. “I can spare you some fruit.”
“And um… bread. And milk. You know…” I shrug. “The necessities.”
He steps into his house, slips on his sneakers, no socks. Grabbing a set of keys off the hook by his door, he asks, “You ready to go now?”
“Uh huh.”
He closes the door behind him. “Let’s go.”
The second I’m in his car, my nostrils are inundated with all things Connor, and my mind… my mind floods with all the memories of us sitting in his old car, every conversation, every moment of laughter, every touch of his hand on my leg.
Apple caught in his mouth, he brings his hand to the back of my seat as he looks behind him to reverse onto the road.
“When did you get it?” I ask.
He straightens the car, takes the apple out, and says, “Birthday present from Daddy. I know, I’m spoiled.”
My heart skips a beat, and I pout up at him. “It was your birthday?”
He glances over at me, his eyes zoned in on my lips. He licks his own before focusing on the road again. “A few days ago, yeah.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
Connor shrugs.