Jase When I return from the shower, Avery is curled up on my bed with my journal from our human sexuality class. What theâ¦
âAvery?â
She sets the notebook down beside her. âI have soft skin? Thatâs it. Thatâs all you wrote?â She shakes her head in mock disgust, not at all self-conscious that I just busted her for snooping.
I cross the room and grab the journal. âNow you have to let me read yours.â
She smiles. âNo way. Not when all you wrote was that cheesy line. You havenât earned it.â
I sit down next to her. âThen let me earn it.â
She brings her palm to my cheek and meets my eyes. The banter between us dies away, and Iâm left with a longing to my very core. Her eyes linger on my mouth. Iâve never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life. My heart is pounding painfully in my chest while I wait to see what sheâll do next.
She reluctantly drops her hand and moves away from me on the bed. âThings went pretty well with Mitch last night.â
âOh, right. Mitch.â Thatâs just fucking great. âMy challenge was to talk to him. Not to go home with him.â
She swats my arm. âAll we did was talk. He drove me home and was a perfect gentleman.â
âGood.â Thank fucking God. âAre you seeing him again?â
She lifts one shoulder. âNot sure. Weâll see if he calls.â
âHe got the digits?â
She nods, smiling coyly.
Damn. That tiny, inconsequential fact shouldnât make me want to punch something, but it does. I mean, Christ, she walked in to find Stacia in my bedroom this morning and sheâs being so fucking cool about it. I need to pull it together.
Avery sits on my bed, still watching me, waiting for a reaction. I canât be held responsible for my actions when her mouth is so lush and pink. Itâs practically taunting me. I stand and place my hands on my hips, needing to infuse some humor into the situation. Otherwise, Iâm going to kiss her again, and that clearly isnât what she wants.
âWell, since it seems youâre really excelling at the challenges Iâm dishing up, it looks like weâre ready for something more advanced.â I hope she canât tell Iâm literally making this up as I go.
A musical ringtone fills the silence and Avery lunges for her phone. âOh, hang on one sec, it might be Mitch.â
Shit fuck.
* * *
I lie in bed, still wondering if I handled things right with Avery. I practically pushed her into Mitchâs arms last night. But of course that was after she told me she wasnât ready for anything. What can he give her that I canât?
Before I call her for our nightly chat, I dial my momâs cell.
She answers on the first ring. âJasey?â
I inwardly groan at the nickname. âHey, Mom.â
âHi honey. Whatâs up? Calling to check on me?â
I smile. No use beating around the bush with her. âI guess so, yeah. How are you?â
âIâm doing fine, Jase. Your dadâs going to China on business later this week. Heâll be gone for two weeks, so if you wanna come see meâ¦â
We both know that itâs a bad idea for me and my dad to be in the same house together. âYeah, I will.â
âWell, I really am doing good, honey. I joined a new book club at the library.â
âGood, Mom. I love you.â
âLove you more, Jasey.â
Itâs a relief to hear her doing so well. I still beat myself up that I didnât see the warning signs before. Not answering her phone and forgetting to call me back for weeks on end, the robotic tone in her voice when we did talk. I should have known something was off. Hell, my dad really shouldâve known something wasnât right. But he ignored her like usual, until he found her in a heap on the bathroom floor. Iâd never heard his voice so panicked when he called to tell me sheâd been taken by ambulance to the hospital.
âOkay, Iâll see you next weekend.â
âBye honey.â
Looks like Iâm going home again next weekend. I switch off the lamp and get comfortable under the sheets before calling Avery. Hearing her sleepy voice right before she falls asleep always makes me grin.
âHi,â she whispers softly.
âHi.â Weâre both silent for a few seconds, but thereâs nothing uncomfortable about it. âDid you have fun with Mitch?â
âYeah. He took me out for hot chocolate and then we just walked around campus for a while.â I can hear the smile in her tone.
Douche. âCool. That sounds nice.â
âYeah, heâs a little quiet, so we didnât have much to talk about, but I think it was a good assignment for me.â
âSo youâre not seeing him again?â I cross my fingers. And my toes.
âI didnât say that. He said something about going out next weekend, so weâll see.â
An idea pops into my mind and now that itâs planted itself there, I know I wonât be able to shake it. âOh, shoot. I was going to ask you to come home with me next weekend.â
She pauses, just the sound of her breathing through the phone as she considers it. âReally?â
âYeah. I need to go home to check on my mom while my dadâs in China on business. I was going to see if youâd want to come with. My momâs really cool and we could just hang out, watch movies, go in the hot tub. Itâd be low key. If youâre interestedâ¦â I mentally high-five myself at the pure genius of this solution. It keeps her away from Mitch the Bitch and gets her closer to me all in one fluid motion.
âAh, yeah, sure. That sounds fun.â
* * *
Call it evil genius or exceptional planning on my part, but the fact that Avery is in my car next to me on the three-hour journey to my momâs just feels right. When we pull in to my neighborhood, Avery leans forward in her seat to look out the window. Itâs a nice neighborhood, I know that. Each house is huge and immaculately maintained; even if they do all look strikingly similar. Too cookie-cutter.
I pull onto the circular brick driveway and park in front of the four-car garage.
âWow. Nice place.â
The house is way too big for just my mom and dad, part of the reason my mom goes crazy sometimes.
I would too, alone in a cold, quiet house. But looks can be deceiving because yes, itâs an amazing house. Red brick exterior, fountain out front, pool and hot tub in back, more bedrooms and bathrooms than weâll ever use.
Avery climbs from the car and stretches. âThis is where you grew up?â
âYep.â I reach into the backseat and grab both of our overnight bags. My momâs waiting for us on the wide front porch, looking at Avery curiously. I realize Iâve never really brought a girl home before. Stacia doesnât count: she lives three houses down and was always here, invited or not.
Iâm happy to see my mom looking put together. Thereâs color in her cheeks and her eyes are bright.
Sometimes I wonder if Iâve been coming home to see her so often to try and erase the memory of her looking so pale and tiny in that hospital bed. She bore no physical scars. Even her suicide attempt had been nice and neat. Able to be swept under the rug and forgotten. How polite of her. We never mentioned the word addiction, even as her use of pain pills for her back increased drastically over the years. And we never used the word suicide. Momâs accident was the term my dad coined. Fucking prick. No wonder she didnât know how to ask for help.
I turn and catch Avery nervously wringing her hands and push all that shit from my head. âReady?â
Avery nods and I lead her forward.