Heartache and Hope (Heartache Duet #1) - Jay McLean Page 0,70
now… now I know what that heart is capable of. I know the strength and the perseverance and love it carries because I see it in the way you care about your family, the way you protect them. And I’m not just lucky, Ava. I’m…” I pause, take a breath. “I moved here with one thing on my mind. Work hard enough to get noticed so I move one step closer toward the end game. But… but maybe fate had other plans for me. Bigger ones. Because you’re here, with me, and you noticed me, Ava, so maybe… maybe the end game was never about basketball. Maybe my end game is you.”
Chapter 38
Ava
Ava: Good game, #3.
Connor: Thanks, #1 goat.
Ava: #1 goat?
Connor: #1 Girlfriend of All Time.
Ava: I… *rolls eyes* Dammit, that made me all gooey inside.
Connor: he shoots, he scooooores.
Ava: Hey… I’ve been wondering. Why #3?
Connor: I don’t know. It was the first number given to me. I’ve just kept it ever since.
Ava: Did you know that in every story, act three is the most important chapter?
Connor: How so?
Ava: Well, it delivers the story’s lowest point (me today) and then how the characters cope with that (you today) and then the climax and resolutions.
Ava: I think maybe you’re my resolution, Connor.
Ava: So #3 suits you.
Connor: *Unzips*
Ava: what??
Connor: Sorry, I read climax and then… what? Let me go back and read the rest.
Ava: OMG! I hate you.
Connor: Wait. That was actually really sweet. Thank you.
Ava: No, I take it back.
Connor: How far back?
Ava: What?
Connor: Are we still ending on the climax part because if so… *unzips*
Ava: Goodnight, boyfriend.
Connor: Goodnight, goat.
Chapter 39
Ava
The kid who messed with me in the cafeteria got a two-day suspension. The first day of his return, he had a little “accident” during gym class and decided to take the rest of the week off. Funny what a handful of laxatives, an underpaid cafeteria worker and two basketball co-captains can achieve. At first, I was mad that Connor and Rhys stooped to that level, but then… fuck that guy.
That was a few weeks ago, and since then, Connor hasn’t asked me to do anything besides let him kiss me goodnight every night, to which I comply. And, if anything, what that kid did to cause my little breakdown just brought Connor and me closer together. Made us stronger. So... thanks, shit-stained-ball-sack kid!
Connor looks up from his phone when he hears my front door open. I should smile or wave or do something, but I’m too busy arguing with Trevor to do anything else.
“You’re doing it, Ava,” Trevor says, his voice firm, as he opens his truck door. “It’s not an option.”
I shake my head, my jaw tense, nostrils flaring. “Fine!”
“Fine!”
I stomp my foot. “I said fine!”
“Fine!”
I grunt, “Go to work!”
Trevor scoffs. “Go to school!”
“I am!”
“Good!” he shouts, but there’s no malice left in his tone. Instead, he’s holding back a smile.
My defenses crack, just a tad, because we’re arguing over something so important to him because he thinks it should be important to me. This morning, he handed me a piece of paper with a dollar amount on it, and when I asked him what it was, he told me it was my budget for college applications. I reminded him that it was useless, and he reminded me that I already promised him I’d do it… hence the pointless argument that in the end, I know I’ll lose. Because just like everything else Trevor does, he only does it for me. “I love you, you idiot.”
Trevor laughs and says, before closing his door, “I love you, too, you brat.”
Connor’s wide-eyed by the time I get to him. “Man, if that’s what having a sibling is like… I’m kind of glad I’m an only child.”
I mumble, my brow furrowed, “Good morning, boyfriend.”
And he responds, “Hmm. Neither your face nor your voice leads me to believe there’s anything good about this morning.”
I kiss him quickly and make my way to the passenger’s side of his car, where I get in, slam the door, and pout, my arms crossed, nose in the air.
Connor gets in after me. “You know, if you weren’t so damn cute, I’d agree with Trevor. You are a brat.”
“Shut up,” I say, but I’m half laughing because I’m so fucking tired, I’m delusional. “I’ve had, like, an hour’s sleep,” I say through a sigh. I grab his hand, settle it on my thigh where he usually keeps it. “Sorry, I’m grumpy.”