Don’t touch me!” She’s thrashing around again, harder this time, and I’m too weak… too fucking powerless.
“I think there might be glass in her foot, but I can’t… I can’t…” I am empty. Void. Running on hopes and dreams that are entirely unattainable.
Corey says, “We’re going to have to give her a little something to calm her down so we can—”
“Ketamine?” I ask.
Corey nods. “You’ve been through this before, huh?” He taps Connor on the shoulder, urging him to move out of the way. Connor gets up, leaves the room completely.
He doesn’t want to be here.
And neither do I.
When it’s over, when the glass is out, and the bandages are on and the meds have done their job and Mom’s fast asleep in her bed, I stand in the middle of her room while Trevor gives a report, and Connor… Connor stands with me, holding my hand tight in his grasp. “So this is where all the pictures are,” he muses.
I look up at him, my eyes dry for the first time since I heard the glass breaking, and then glance around the room. Every inch of every wall is covered in photographs—photographs I put up. From when I was a baby, through to now. Some with Trevor and William and Mom and me, as a family, and some of just us—Mom and me. I inhale a shaky breath, my voice barely a whisper, “Sometimes I hope that she’ll one day wake up and see all of this, all of her life, all of me, and that’s somehow going to be enough for her to… to miraculously snap out of it, as if it’s…” I break off, my emotions getting the best of me. “It’s so stupid.”
“It’s not,” he whispers, holding my head to him. His heart beats against my cheek, and I close my eyes, listen. I try to hear the magic in there, but my thoughts are too loud, like a constant buzzing of words and memories and pain. So much pain. “It’s not stupid to hope, Ava. Sometimes hope is the only thing that gets us through to the next day.”
In my mind, I know he’s right.
But in my heart, I know the next day will be the same as all the other days. So what difference does it make?
“I should stay,” Connor says.
I shake my head, release his hand. “You should go. Try to get some rest. You have early practice tomorrow.”
“She’s right, Connor,” his dad interrupts, standing in the doorway.
“But—”
Trevor stands next to Corey. “I’ll walk you out, Connor.”
Corey waits until they’ve left the house, along with his partner, before saying, “This is a lot to handle, Ava. Even for a girl as strong as you.”
I don’t respond.
He steps farther into the room, glancing at Mom, and then the pictures on the wall.
“Have you thought about putting her in a—”
“I’m not abandoning her,” I cut in. Then mumble, “I’m not Connor’s mom.” Regret forces my eyes to shut the moment the words leave me.
“He told you about that?”
I nod, open my eyes again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Corey offers a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know what I learned early on? Life is a series of decisions. You make them because they feel right at the time, but you’re not bound to them forever. She made the decision to leave, and you’re making the decision to stay. The difference is, her choices have done irreversible damage. Yours haven’t. Yet.”
Chapter 43
Connor
I barely slept after what happened last night and could hardly get through the standard practice this morning. Luckily, most of the guys were hungover, so my lagging didn’t seem so bad. Now I’m in the cafeteria, sitting at the “jock” table because I know Ava isn’t coming.
Connor: Just checking in, babe. How is she?
Ava: She’s okay now. She’s on painkillers, so she’s been in and out all day. Krystal’s here. I’m just trying to get sleep in when I can.
Connor: Anything I can do?
“Are you in, Connor?”
Ava: No. I’m just sorry you had to witness what you did. A little embarrassed, I guess.
Connor: What I witnessed doesn’t change anything.
“Connor!” Rhys nudges my side. “Earth to Connor.”
I look up from my phone, see him motioning to Oscar sitting opposite me. “What?”
“Game tape after school? Our next game is Philips Academy, and they’re fucking fierce.”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumble and look back at my phone. She hasn’t responded.
Oscar says, his eyes flitting between me and my phone, “Ava wasn’t in AP English this morning.