helping him remove the toilet paper.
Trevor shakes his head. “Just dumb kids being kids,” he murmurs, pulling on a longer piece. I watch his face, the tension in his jaw, the frustration in his brows. “What’s been going on? How are you settling in at St. Luke’s?”
“As well as can be expected.” I hand him all the trash I’ve collected. “You know anywhere good to eat around here?”
“Yeah.” He balls up all the toilet paper with both hands. “Best place on a Saturday is the sports park. They have a bunch of food trucks. Take your pick.”
“Sports park?”
“Yeah, there are batting cages, basketball courts, sometimes they put up the rock-climbing thing. It’s pretty cool. You should check it out.”
Nodding, I push away my awkwardness and ask, “You want to come with?”
His eyes widen, and he offers a crooked grin. “Yeah?”
I shrug. “On me.”
Pointing to his truck, he says, “Let me just bring in the groceries.” He hands me the toilet paper. “Take care of that for me?”
“Got it.”
He gets a few bags from his truck while I get rid of the trash.
When I get back to the sidewalk, I notice a note stuck on his mailbox, no doubt put there by the same kids—Insane Asylum. I look at the house again. The blinds are open, but the sheer curtains stop me from seeing much else.
When Trevor comes out, he notices what I’m looking at and rips it off before pocketing it.
“What’s that about?” I ask.
“Like I said, dumb kids…”
The sports park is insane, and I’ve dubbed it my new playground. And Trevor? He’s a cool dude. I would even consider him a friend. I learned that he lives with his stepmom and sister and that he used to play college football but blew out his knee and gave up on it. I also learned (the hard way) that Trevor is a natural-born athlete. Put a ball or a bat in his hand, and it’s like he was specifically built for it. He even gave me a hard time on the court, almost put me to shame until I realized I was taking it a lot more casually than he was. I amped up my game, gave it a hundred, and he assured me I’d have no problems getting into a D1 school, giving me the confidence I’d been struggling to find.
By the time I drive us back home, the sun’s already beginning to set. I would have stayed longer if Trevor didn’t have to get back. Hell, I would’ve stayed all damn night. “Thanks for hanging out,” I tell him, standing on the sidewalk. “It hasn’t been the easiest making friends, you know?”
He settles with his back against his fence, his hands in his pockets. “It’ll get better. You’re a good kid with a good head on you.” He glances toward his house. “Right now, your team probably sees you as a threat because you’re good, Connor. Like, really good. And people… people fear what they don’t know.”
AVA
Ava: Sleeping?
Connor: It’s, like, 9:30. Lol
Ava: Hey, I don’t know. Maybe playing with your balls all day got you tired.
Connor: Dirty girl.
Connor: I like it.
Connor: What’s up?
Ava: Nothing, just researching these serial killers. It’s a little depressing.
Connor: I know. I had to stop after a while, too. It’s kind of messed up that we’re so intrigued by it all.
Ava: Because people fear what they don’t know.
Connor: You’re the second person to tell me that today.
Ava: Really? Strange. But I think that’s why it’s so intriguing, right? The more we know, the less afraid we are of it all.
Connor: That makes sense. No wonder you’re taking this class.
Ava: Why are you?
Connor: Not gonna lie, I thought it would be easy. Why are you taking it?
Ava: I think it might be something I’ll want to get into more when I’m older. Not necessarily a career, but… I don’t know. It would be nice if I could help turn someone’s bad day into just a bad moment.
Connor: That’s… that’s a really great way to look at things, Ava. For real.
Ava: Also because the human mind intrigues me. Makes me curious…
Connor: Uh oh. Why do I feel like those ellipses are a segue to something else… about me?
Ava: Because they might be…
My eyes widen when Connor’s name flashes on the screen. I clear my throat, sit up in bed. “Hello?”
“I figured it was easier to talk than text.” His voice… I never really paid attention to it before, but now that I hear it, and it’s all