Chapter 42: 39 | enough

Spring has sprung.

Sat upon her kitchen counter in her baby blue sundress, Avery lets her eyes gaze across the room. The plants on the windowsill look as if they need to be tended to, all dried up by the early March sun which illuminates the room in a soft glow. Its rays cast light upon the light speckles of dust lining the shelves along the walls and atop the bowl-shaped kitchen lamp, not to speak of the glass of the window facing their front lawn. Even though it's closed she can hear the chirps of early morning birdsong among the light rustle of the trees.

Spring semesters do always seem to go by faster than their fall counterparts, but the spring semester of her senior year sure takes the cake.

Lips twitching into a small smile, she leans her head back against the cupboard. She holds her hand out for the plate in Ethan's hand, placing it in the drying rack.

She grabs a few leftover raspberries from the bowl beside her as she waits for the next plate, wiping the juice lingering on her fingers off on her bare leg before placing that plate in the rack too.

Popping another berry into her mouth, she reaches her hand out to push Ethan's hair away from where it falls into his eyes, her smile widening as his does. She lets her hand fall to his slightly rumpled black t-shirt, brushing some imaginary dust away from its shoulder before dropping her hand into the sink, scooping up some water into her palm. Splashing it his way, she laughs and ducks as he sprawls his fingers to splash some back.

She takes the last baking bowl out of his hands as he's rinsed it, placing it on the rack along the rest before letting her lips crack into a grin. Reaching over to close the tap just as he does, she lets her fingers intertwine with his. She glances over at the rack – most things perched upon it not from their light breakfast but the ones she convinced him to leave unattended to last night post their impromptu midnight cookie making session, before lightly kicking him in the leg.

"Good job."

Letting himself be pulled closer by the tug of her hand, his fingers fall to her leg where they trace a gentle pattern on her thigh. "You too."

"We should go out for ice cream today," She says and loops her arms around his neck, her fingers sprawling through his hair.

"Yeah."

Her smile softens as he drops his face to the crook of her neck, twirling one of his short curls around her finger as she holds him close. A beat of comfortable silence, their breaths falling into sync, passes before she clears her throat to speak again.

"I have a favor to ask."

Ethan's breath is warm against her skin as he says, "Anything."

"And you can't laugh at me."

He inches back then, an upward tilt to his mouth as his eyes narrow in slight curiosity. "I'm listening."

"I need you to take your sweater back–,"

"Which one?"

She rolls her eyes – both at his question and over the fact she's made it a valid one – as her cheeks tighten with her smile. "As I was saying, you need to take your sweater back. The green one," She adds, pointedly not mentioning the capital letters they both know spell out 'Ace East' across its chest. "And then you need to wash it at yours. And then wear it for like... a week. Or something. Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing."

Her eyes narrow at his chortled words. "And then you have to give it back. Okay?"

He rolls his lips together but she doesn't miss the twitch of amusement to them as he nods. "Okay."

She lets her hands fall from his neck to her lap, smoothing out the light fabric of her dress. "So," She exhales with a smile. "Ice cream?"

"Ice cream."

♡♡♡

Stepping back over the threshold of their front door that afternoon, Avery's gaze falls to Sarah's bag stood by the hall bureau, hinting of her mother having returned home. The top of a colorful bound book sticks out of the tote and she's just about to call into the house to ask how book club went as she's cut off by the sound of her ringtone.

She pulls the door closed behind her as she reaches into the small crossbody bag to get it out, her fingers still a bit sticky from the melted ice cream having trailed down her hand despite her efforts to wipe it away with a napkin as they close around the cool metal.

Glancing down at the screen, she tenses. It's her dad.

She bites down at her lip, pushing her hand through her hair as she kicks her shoes off. Half the beach ends up on the doormat alongside them, as expected in Acebridge.

Her thumb hovers over the screen as she stares at it, phone still ringing – the tone seeming to grow angrier and less patient with every loop of the deafening sound.

She hasn't spoken to Robert since that day in January sat at the beach with Ethan. Her heart drops heavier in her chest as she realizes just how long it's been; in just a few days it'll be two months ago.

Then, though flickering, she senses a spring of hope in her heart. Maybe now that some time has passed they can actually talk. Have some sort of heart to heart, find a mutual understanding.

Before she can change her mind, before her short moment of determination fades, she swipes her thumb quickly over the screen and puts the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

She braces herself for some sort of reprimand in greeting; for not having called in the past few weeks, for not having picked up the phone the other week when he called her (she'd been out on a run when she missed it and then, oddly, forgot to call back she realizes now) or simply for taking too long to pick up today. Instead, her father sounds chipper as his voice booms through the speaker.

"Hi sweetheart. How are you?"

Well, that's a good start. With a small sigh of relief, Avery walks over to the staircase and sinks into a seat on the fifth step.

There's a gentle chill to their house and she wraps her cardigan closer around her despite running warm from the hours she's spent outside – walking along the boardwalk, being sat at the beach for a long while with the sun on her face, having ice cream underneath the green crowns of the trees in the park.

Leaning her elbow against her knee, she smiles as she thinks back to the first half of her day. "I'm good. It's finally warm outside again," She leans her chin atop her balled up hand. "How are you guys?"

It takes her an entire ten minutes of back and forth smalltalk, mostly listening to her father as he speaks before she straightens up in her seat. She's been waiting for him to bring it up but it doesn't seem he will. For one lingering moment she wonders if she should let it go as well; let it go and simply drift back to normal, but then her heartbeat grows harder. She has to do it.

She places a soothing palm over her beating heart, drawing in a calming circle of air to gather herself, and brings up the Christmas-situation.

And while having needed to get it off her chest, maybe she shouldn't have.

Somehow, within the loop of the next eight minutes, Robert finds a way to blame the entire universe – Sarah included – before himself for having let Avery down yet again.

It's not unexpected. It's nothing new. He's spoken in riddles and circles for years on end, never truly touching upon whatever topic's at hand unless it's one he's chosen himself. She doesn't know why she thought today would be any different. She only knows she desperately hoped it would be.

Sat listening as he rants on, realization dawns on her. It will never be easy. It will never be the way she hopes it will. This is what it is. This is what she gets. Phone calls where his life is their focal point – his kids, his job, his setbacks and his victories. Long monologues rejecting blame. Promises broken, over and over again.

Excuses. So many excuses.

No matter what it's about, there'll always be an excuse on the tip of his tongue. That's just how it works.

Her throat tightens as her mind spins, bringing along a sense of nausea. Her heart drops deep into her chest, its beat seeming to grow slower and more rapid at once. Her lashes stick together as tears begin to blur her vision. Before she can stop herself a sob breaks through.

Her father is far too busy in performing yet another monologue to notice.

Listening to him, or rather the buzz of his voice in her ear considering she can barely hear his words over the calamity of her mind, she presses her lips together. The teardrops having lingered upon them are salt against the tip of her tongue. She doesn't have it in her to wipe at the tears rolling down her cheeks in silence, knowing there's no way to stop them from breaking loose.

Her palms grow clammy as a trail of goosebumps erupt over her skin while flushing with warmth simultaneously. The shaky breath leaving her lips does close to nothing to soothe the light dizziness hovering over her head. Closing her eyes, pretty certain her father is still speaking on the other end, she gathers herself to give relying on her breath another try.

Upon batting her eyes open again – as if out of thin air – her mother appears before her.

Looking stricken at the scene of Avery balled up on the stair-step, cheeks blotching from the warmth and salt of her tears, Sarah holds her hand out for the phone. Even through her tear-blurred vision, Avery can tell the gesture is nothing close to a wish but a demand.

Still, she hesitates. Then, with the faintest sigh – if it's one of relief or defeat she doesn't now, maybe both, she hands her mother the tearstained device.

Resting her elbows on her knees, she wipes at her cheeks and glances up as her mother holds the phone to her ear. She bites down at her lip as Sarah stays silent – an uneasiness gnaws at her from within as she waits, even though there possibly cannot be more than a few seconds that pass before her mother speaks.

"That's enough Robert," She says solemnly. "Yes. Hello."

Sarah ends the call with a court goodbye a short bit later, jaw clenching as a flicker of resignation crosses her features.

Placing the phone upon the hall bureau, she walks over to the staircase and sinks into a seat next to Avery.

Hands trembling, Avery lets herself be pulled into a tight side hug. Her voice is thick as she hiccups through the tears. "I'm done."

Sarah's voice is barely louder than a whisper – as if afraid she'll startle her daughter. "What?"

Avery's brows knit together as her hands come down to the stair-step, clutching the edge of it in an attempt of anchoring herself. She tries to gather her thoughts; tries to make enough sense of them to piece them into words.

"I'm done, I–," She hiccups, mind becoming less foggy with every second. "I don't care anymore,"

The lie leaves a bitter taste on her tongue. She's barely able to exhale through the tension consuming her body but somehow she manages to push through.

"I don't– I can't do this anymore. I just don't want to keep trying. It's not... It'll never lead anywhere–,"

Catching her breath, she lets her face fall to her hand. She pinches the bridge of her nose as she she squeezes her eyes shut. It's true; no matter how hard she tries, it'll never be what she wants it to be. At one point in time it had felt enough, or maybe like it could be enough, but now it's nothing but draining.

Sarah rubs a soothing palm over her back but it doesn't do much for the ache building in her chest. Staying silent, Sarah waits as Avery struggles with an exhale.

The decision forming in her mind is terrifying. Thinking of what it could do – that it could mean having her father ripped out of her life forever, is terrifying. But the thought of continuing on as they do right now, continuing on like this for the rest of her life, contributes equally much to her pounding headache. Not to speak of her heartache.

She's just... tired. She's tired.

"I don't want to," She says weakly, blinking as she senses another set of tears prickle her eyes. "Does that make me awful?"

She thinks it probably does.

After all, this is about family. Then, a surprised – though slightly self-deprecating – chortle escapes her lips through her hiccuping breaths as she finds herself wishing Ethan was here. Not because she feels better whenever he's around, though it's true, but because she knows he would reprimand her for even voicing that concern. Although gently, he would; just knowing he would has her easing up on herself ever so slightly.

Sarah's hold tightens around her.

"Honey," She says softly, brushing a few strands of hair having stuck to Avery's skin away. "Of course you're not. And if this is what you want right now, then I'll have your back every step of the way. You know that. And if you change your mind – in an hour, tomorrow, in three months or ten years, I'll be here for that too."

"What do you think I should do?"

Her mother's voice falls into a gentle hush. "You know I can't make that decision for you. It's entirely up to you. But there are no wrongs here. It's all about what feels good to you and your heart."

Avery nods, trying to suppress the slight guilt having begun to bloom in her chest.

She's tired of feeling like she's always fighting. She's tired of the way her heart can drop so suddenly out of mere uncertainty.

And though she knows it may not be realistic, she just wants to live her life feeling the way she does while caught in a rain storm. Or when the sun shines on her face. She only wants to know peace.

Somehow that doesn't seem too much to ask.

Falling into her mother's embrace, her chest physically aches as her cheeks are once again coated in warm teardrops.

♡♡♡

Callie shovels kale salad into her mouth, careful to hold the bowl close to her as not to spill anything over Avery who has her head propped up in her lap.

She lies on her back in the bay window of Callie's kitchen, her knees pointing to the sky as she stares up at the ceiling while Nic shuffles around the room to prepare for their movie night.

Having felt suffocated by her own emotions as evening came around – the relief and the guilt melting together into one big ball of nausea – Avery had found herself desperately needing to get out of her house.

At first she had pulled out a pair of runner leggings but considering only changing into them had exhausted her beyond reason she had to rethink her plan of going on a run. Instead, she'd slipped into her flats and her light pink chunky knit sweater before making the short trek over to Nic's house.

She'd barely stepped over the threshold of his front door before Callie announced to the group chat she'd arrived back home – having been away for a cheerleading tournament for an entirety of two days – and so, they had gotten into Nic's car to drive over.

And now here they are.

Finishing off the last piece of cucumber speared on her fork, Callie carefully sets her bowl down on the floor next to them. Her hair falls forward as she peers down at Avery, fingers gentle against her skin as she brushes some blonde strands away from her forehead.

Her lips form a thoughtful pout. "Maybe you should go see someone – talk about it. It helps. For me, at least."

Avery's chest rises and falls with a slow circle of air, corners of her lips lifting once. "Maybe."

The doorbell echoes through the house during their short exchange of words and Nic leaves them behind as he heads for the hall. He comes back into the kitchen a second later, trailed by Luke and Lea.

Turning her head sideways, Avery glances over at them and lifts her hand in a small wave.

Both their faces sport a rosy glow, hinting of traces of the first tan of the year. They've probably spent the entire day out in the sun.

"Catch."

A bag of gummy candies lands on her stomach, the crunch of the plastic softened by her chunky knitted sweater. She picks it up, holding it close to her chest as she regards Luke.

"Mom blabbed to Tammy again, didn't she?"

He lifts one of his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug, lips pulling into a sympathetic smile before he turns to Nic and Lea where they're stood by the counter. "Anything I can do?"

Lea sets a few glasses down on a tray. "Popcorn."

"On it."

Nic's about to extend him the box holding the bags of microwave popcorn but pauses. "Maybe I should do it."

Luke reaches past him, grabbing the box. "I've got it."

"Well," Nic says, stacking up and balancing far too many bowls of sweets and sliced up fruits in his embrace than should be possible. "Then we're set, I guess."

Callie shifts in her seat, glancing down at Avery again as Nic leaves them behind for the second floor. "Should we head upstairs?"

Placing a few options of drinks on the tray before her, Lea takes it into her hands before throwing the girls a glance. "We're still waiting for two."

Just as she speaks the words, the doorbell sounds through the house once more.

"That's probably them." Luke adds, walking over to the microwave as he rips the box in his hand open.

Brows knitting together, Callie gets to her feet and reaches her hand out to help Avery up as well. They let Lea lead the way out of the kitchen, Avery trailing behind Callie – one hand firmly locked with hers and the other clutching the bag of gummy candies.

Carefully carrying the tray up the swivel staircase, Lea nods for Avery to follow Callie to get the door.

A soft grateful exhale escapes her as it swings open into the comfortably chill night, revealing Ethan on its threshold.

Slipping her hand out of Avery's, Callie steps aside with a small smile, allowing Ethan to sweep Avery into a tight hug.

A cry catches in Avery's throat, relishing in his familiar warmth. "I thought you had plans with the team tonight?"

It's the sole reason she's held off on going to him, on telling him – on seeking his comfort.

Ace East High's football team may still be divided, falling apart at its seams but she hadn't wanted to get in the way for their night. Not when the school year is running out as fast as the last few grains of sand in an hourglass. There are only so many nights left.

His lips press softly to her hair.

"Not if you need me," He says and she lets her eyes fall close, nose pressed to the dip of his throat. "Do you? Because if you want to spend tonight just you guys, we'll leave right now and I'll come over tomorrow instead."

"No I want you to stay,"

The words fall off her tongue before she can even think to say anything else and for one flickering moment she wonders if she should have sent him on his way, back to his original plans instead of selfishly keeping him to herself. She inches back ever so slightly, gaze meeting his concerned eyes before letting it drift to the side to find Jake stood there.

"You're skipping out too?"

He shrugs, peering around the grand hall enveloped in the rich woodsy scent of vanilla from the fragrance sticks stood around the house. "Luke had me at movie night."

Avery's lips tug into a hint of a smile, warmth spreading through her chest as she points to the swivel staircase. "They're upstairs."

They watch Jake leave before Ethan pulls her into another hug, holding her close.

The bag of gummy candies crackles ever so slightly as she loops her arms around his torso, tilting her head back with a small smile. Faint relief crosses his eyes at the sight, his own lips twitching up as she reaches onto her toes to kiss him.

She can sense his brows knit together just as his lips brush against hers, speaking against them. "Why does it smell like something's on fire?"

Inching back, she hears a loud "Shit" from the kitchen, drawing a snort out of her. A short laugh follows.

"Luke burned the popcorn."

Her cheeks tighten as she holds back another laugh, raising her brows as she listens to the row of creatively strung together curse words emerging from down the hall.

Ethan rolls his lips together as if trying to keep them from slipping into a smile unfit for his next question. "What happened?"

A small sigh escapes Avery, knowing he's referring to the phone call with her dad rather than Luke's inability to read the instruction off a box. Though she admits, mastering the perfect batch of microwave popcorn is a tricky art.

"I just–," She drops her arms from Ethan's torso, letting her free hand fall into his. "I'm just too tired," She plans on telling him her every thought about it later, if he's up for it, when it's just the two of them. But right now she's too tired – in every sense. "They're probably waiting for us."

He presses his thumb to her palm gently, nodding to the staircase. "Lead the way."

Her gaze falls to the bag of gummy candies in her hand and she holds it out for him to take instead.

"Actually," Her fingers graze his palm as she lets her hand slip out of his. "You go ahead – up the stairs, then to your right. I'll be up in a minute."

"Okay."

Watching him leave, she heads down the hall to the kitchen. She pauses on the single stair-step in the doorway, resting her head against the frame.

As if sensing her presence, Luke glances over his shoulder. "How bad do we want popcorn?"

Her lips twitch up as she pads across the wooden floorboards, eyes on the ripped open bag he angles toward her to give her a view of the inedible mess inside. "Not that bad,"

He's still regarding the popcorn with narrowed eyes as she wraps her arms around him in a side hug, having a chortled breath of surprise leave his lips.

Gaze casting to the popcorn once more, an amused smile curls on her lips before softening into one of sincerity.

"Thank you."

♡♡♡

On her way back from the bathroom – the minty taste of her toothpaste still strong on her tongue and a few unflattering spots of zit cream adorning her skin–, Avery pauses by her mother's bedroom as she notices the lights are still on.

With a light knock she nudges the door open, finding Sarah sat against her headboard. A stack of printer paper supported by a folder rests against her drawn up knees, a ballpoint pen perched between her lips and her spectacles slipped down the slope of her nose.

"Just wanted to say goodnight."

Taking the pen into her hand, Sarah glances up with a small smile. "Goodnight honey,"

Avery's about to step away to make the short trek to her own bedroom as Sarah speaks again, "I thought you were staying at Callie's tonight?"

A small yawn escapes Avery as she shrugs, the wooden floorboards cold underneath the soles of her feet as she pads into the room.

The mattress shifts as she sinks into a seat on the bed, stretching her arms before her with another yawn. "I changed my mind."

Sarah scoots to the side as Avery lets her head hit the pillow next to her. Her chest lightens, her entire body weighing easier as she's enveloped by the comfortable scent of the pillow case.

No matter how many times she's tried to replicate the light floral scent – having gone so far as to use every same product her mother does–, she's never gotten close to succeeding. It's like it has been molded for her mother and only her. Still, to this day, Avery sometimes steals her t-shirts to sleep in – the familiarity of the scent equal to a warm hug.

Another yawn escapes her as her eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the long day washing over her as she drifts off to sleep to the sound of Sarah's pen scribbling against paper.

. . .

hi hello

it's morning over here and I feel very odd because I'm used to showing up with these chapters when it's already past my supposed bedtime but I stayed up late last night writing so here we are.

this was such a fun chapter to write (it was also very heavy because of that whole mid-part) because it just felt so easy to do, like something just clicked. so that's nice.

this is also the chapter that will evidently nudge the total of reads over the 100k edge (it's on 99,9k as we speak) which is crazy so uhm thank you so so much for continuing to show up and lots of virtual hugs to all of you

well I'm going to wrap this up and go enjoy this day I have off by doing some more writing maybe and reading lots (currently reading from blood and ash by jennifer l. armentrout in case anyone was wondering)

have a great day/night. much love always,

yours linn