Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,68

shatters every living cell inside of me.

Miss Turner’s voice hardens. “That wasn’t a suggestion, Mr. Ledger. Get to class. Now!”

I don’t know how I make it through the rest of the afternoon, but as soon as the bell rings, I go searching for Ava. First her locker, then my car, then Miss Turner’s office. She’s nowhere to be found, and so I call her. Again and again and each time there’s no answer. I try messaging her:

Connor: Where are you?

And then Rhys:

Connor: Do you know where she is?

And then I go to send one to Trevor, but I realize I don’t even have his number. Hands pulling at my hair, I look up at the sky for answers—answers that aren’t there. I check the basketball court, the locker rooms, and then Miss Turner’s office again. It’s locked.

I knock. “Ava?”

There’s no response, so I go to the office and ask where Miss Turner is. Apparently, she’s clocked out for the day. I give up on school and am almost home, my phone continually dialing Ava’s number as I drive. And then a text comes through:

Rhys: She’s here.

I pull over.

Connor: With you?

Rhys: Yeah.

Jealousy burns a hole in my chest.

Connor: At your house?

Rhys: No, but yeah. Just drive to my house. You’ll see us.

Rhys rushes to my open window the second he sees my car. I spot Ava sitting on the sidewalk, her legs crossed, staring up at her old house. “She won’t talk,” Rhys says, his voice low as he pulls on the car door to get me out faster. “I tried, man, but… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“All right,” I tell him, calm. As if I have all the answers. I’m as lost as he is, if not worse, because I should know what to say. Or do. But I don’t. And maybe it’s worse that I’m here, because maybe I’m the one who caused all of this, but I’m not willing to walk away like I did before. “Just go home; I’ll take care of her.”

He leaves without another word, and I gather what little strength I have left and slowly go to her. Her cheeks are wet, but there are no tears in her eyes. At least not yet. “Ava?” I whisper, and she blinks, looks down at her hands. “Can I sit with you?”

She nods slowly but refuses to meet my gaze.

My heart races as I sit behind her, my legs on either side. I wait a moment, pray she doesn’t push me away. When enough time passes, I scoot forward until my chest is pressed to her back and wrap my arms around her waist. A single sob escapes her, and she drops her face in her hands. “What’s this for?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” I say, remembering the first time she’d been there for me. “It just looked like you needed it.”

Another whimper, and I’m moving to the side so I can see her. I reach up, hesitant, and cup her jaw. I wait for her response, because if she’s done with me, with us—if I fucked up beyond forgiveness, I’ll hate myself, but I’ll have no choice but to wear it.

Right now, the most important thing is her… and I need to make sure she’s okay.

Her eyes finally lift to mine, holding more pain than I know what to do with. And then her head tilts, her cheek pressing to my palm. She reaches up, holds my wrist in both her hands to keep me there.

Air fills my lungs, and I exhale, relieved.

I finger the strands of loose hair away from her eyes and bring her face closer to mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have asked you to—”

My hands move with her head shake. “No, I’m sorry, Connor.” She releases a staggered breath. “I didn’t mean to say all those things to you. I needed someone to blame, and you were there. I’m so sorry. And I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

“Why? Because of what that asshole—”

“No, because of the way I was.” She cries harder, her tears falling fast and free. I swipe them away with my thumbs, kiss them off her lips. “Connor, I never wanted you to see me like that, to see me break and fall apart and… God, why are you here? Why do you still care about me?”

“Ava,” I breathe out. “You had every right to feel the way you did... Jesus, I had no idea it was like that for you at school, and I’m