It wasn’t even about being able to sleep. It was about being with her.
I hung up and put my seat back, trying to get some sleep before school tomorrow. I was exhausted by the time the alarm on my cell woke me. Fog had crept in from shore and engulfed my car. I felt completely alone. Typically, that wouldn’t have bothered me.
That morning, it freaked me out.
I drove to school early and slipped into the gym, showering in record speed. I brushed my teeth as I did so and then used my shirt to dry off, hopping into fresh clothes. I would have liked to grab some food but didn’t have the time to leave campus and then come back before the late bell.
I didn’t even have enough time to see Ava. And by lunch, I was too hungry to think straight. I headed immediately for the lunch line and sat down where I normally did.
“There you are,” a sweet, melodic voice said, relief in her tone. Ava sat down beside me, and in an instant, everything was okay again.
“Sorry. I was—”
“Hungry,” she finished for me, smiling. “I know.”
It hurt inside, how badly I missed her last night. I was usually good at shoving my emotions down, but that was before I actually had any. That was before Ava.
If anything, she was the only person I could talk to that treated me like I wasn’t a homeless, starving nobody. I didn’t want to pollute her with the truth. I wanted her to look at me and be who she thought I was.
But she was an emotional creature.
Unlike the empty alien I had become over the years.
She needed connection.
I ruined mine.
My phone buzzed on my way back to class. I pulled it out, curious who it could be.
Zara: My school library has Wi-Fi for the teachers, and I cracked the password. Cool, huh?
I groaned. What had I done? She was already hacking. I dialed her. She answered on the first ring with a soft, “hello?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Zara, you can’t go hacking into people’s Wi-Fi.”
“It’s not like they picked a hard password. It’s the school’s name plus the word library. It was really easy.”
“Listen, kid. That’s not what your phone is for.”
“What’s it for? To talk to people? Like who?” she mumbled sadly. “No one wants to talk to me. They ignore me.”
Guilt crept into my tone and softened it. “I want to talk to you.”
“Yeah. I guess one person’s better than no one, huh?”
I stared straight, shaking my head slightly. “Wow, thanks for the accolade.”
She giggled. “You’re welcome.”
“What are you doing?”
“Eating lunch in the library. The librarian’s really mean and strict, but she lets me eat in the back because I don’t make a mess. I get to read free books. It’s not so bad.”
I’d been there. Hiding out in the library. I was still there. And it sucked. “You up for hanging out tonight?”
“Yes.” Her tone perked up. She hated going home the same way I did, but she was also still a little girl who was scared and being home was safer than being out on the street by herself. “Is your girlfriend coming?”
“She can’t,” I lied. “She has to study.”
“Oh. She’s one of those kinds of girls.”
I laughed just as I heard a faint bell in the background. “Shut up. And go to class. I’ll pick you up around six, all right?”
“‘kay.”
“Hot date?” someone teased, skipping in my line of sight. Henny grinned at me. “Is that why Ava flaked on our study date at the library? She had one with you, instead?” She wiggled her brows at me.
Before Zara could hear I ended our call and kept walking. “Uh, no. It was a… teammate. They need a ride to practice.”
She frowned. “Since when do you smile at other boys on the phone?”
I turned sharply to her. “What’s with all the questions?”
She reached over and jabbed her finger in my chest, hard. “Don’t growl at me, Bishop. I’m not sweet like Ava. I’ll cut you.”
Her threat was both comical and alarming. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Henny.” I patted the top of her head. “Forgive me.”
She nodded, pleased. “Now who was on the phone? Was it a hot friend? Can I have his number?”
I groaned and walked away.
Practice that night was grueling. Coach created ten new plays and wanted them mastered by the end of the week. I was tired and hungry afterward and hanging out with Zara was the only consolation of the night. We ate milkshakes and burgers and then went to the library. She had a paper to write and I had two of my own plus a few assignments.
I got snacks from the vending machines and we spread out in the back for hours, neither of us wanting to face the world outside the library doors.
I heard them before I saw them. Teenage girls laughing grated on my ears and it was a sound that was difficult to not hear. Two girls came in.
They looked around the room, trying to find the best seat. When their eyes landed on my table, I watched their faces scrunch together.
I could hear their thoughts as clearly as if they’d spoken them out loud.
I was there with another girl and I was going to marry her and have the reception in Ava’s freaking bedroom while she watched. Or something equally ridiculous.
Zara picked that exact moment to rest her head on my shoulder. She kicked her feet up on the seat beside her and then peered up at me, young and innocent.
But with all that, I couldn’t be mad at her. Not when I was the only boy she let get close to her. The only guy she trusted.
I smiled sadly at her and kissed her forehead. “You’re all right, kid. You know that?”
She smiled shyly and returned to her book. “Can I have the rest of your cookies?”
“Sure.” I pushed them over.
The girls had moved from their spot and were now seated on the other side of the library. Henny and Laurie had mirror expressions of pure suspicion on their faces.
I was concerned when I dropped Zara off.
I was used to being alone.
Now, I was positive I hated it.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ava
My mind used to be a safe place.
I knew my thoughts, respected them, and I understood every single one of them.
Now, my mind was a foreign body.
I didn’t understand anything.
I rolled over in bed, reopening Henny’s text for the thousandth time. It was one in the morning and I’d failed epically at getting any sleep. How could I? When Bishop was out with another girl.
My head hurt so badly, it almost overshadowed the hurt in my heart. I studied his smile, so soft and sweet aimed at her. I thought I was the only girl he smiled like that at. I couldn’t breathe. I sat up in bed and tried, really, really hard to think about this logically.
Bishop wasn’t that boy.
He’d never crush me.
He promised.
He’d been distant lately, but he had a lot on his plate. It amazed me that I’d been jealous before, but those were emotional reactions from my heart. And then when Henny presented me with a picture, a picture that should have sent me to the brink of rage, I didn’t feel it with my heart.
She was so sure.
And Laurie was so sure.
Almost like they were happy they’d torn through my image of Bishop. I got up and paced, my finger hovering over his number. He hadn’t called me tonight like he had the past few nights.
I hated the feelings I was feeling.
Because even though I should be mad at Bishop, I was madder at my friends.
I pressed SEND before I could chicken out, pacing the length of my bedroom.
The line clicked during the second ring. “I’ve been waiting for you to call me.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice. “Why?” I whispered, too afraid to talk loud enough in case my tone gave me a
way.
“Because I know you, Ava. I know where your mind is, and I know where your mind wants to be. Ask me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Zara.”
“Who is Zara?”
“She’s a girl.”
“Bishop!” I hissed. “Just tell me already.”
“What’s going on with you and Henny and Laurie?”
I sat down in the middle of my room on the floor. “Why are you toying with me?”
“They didn’t even ask me, you know,” he said, his voice so low and slow, like he could talk all night. “They just looked at me like I had proven them right. I was the guy they thought I was. But you didn’t think that, did you, Avie?”
“No,” I admitted in a pained rush. “You promised.”
“Zara is twelve. She’s a foster kid at home. She reminds me of myself. You know, minus the girl part. I care about her, Ava. I never had anyone who cared if I was hungry or alone. Not until I met you. I want to be there for her.”
I felt this intense, consuming rush of relief. Not that he hadn’t done anything, but because I never thought he had. I never would again. “I’m sorry, Bishop.” I couldn’t even open my eyes and see my room or even see myself.
I didn’t know why I was so crazy.
Before he could open his mouth, I hung up and turned my phone off. I crawled under the covers and melted into the darkness. When Mom came in at eight to ask why I hadn’t left for school, I didn’t even have to lie when I told her I didn’t feel well.
I felt like I was ruining everything in my life.
My brain was up and down, high and low, and I was afraid all day and empty the next. Bishop didn’t act that way. Or Henny and Laurie. Even my mother wasn’t constantly recycling her moods like she was stuck in a washing machine. I scraped at the sides of my emotions to feel something, but nothing came.
Mom came in that afternoon and asked if I wanted some medicine and chicken soup. I said no to both, but she left the soup. I ate it a few hours later, sucking down cold noodles and soggy carrots.
“Okay, it’s time to talk.” Mom sat on my bed that night. “You’re not hot and you haven’t puked as far as I know and there isn’t a single used tissue around. So, I’m going to assume that the issue is boy related. Did Bishop do something?”
I buried my face under my pillow. “No. He never does anything. It’s always me.”
“That doesn’t sound right.”
“Well, it is. I’m a jealous psycho who can’t trust anyone and I cry too much and he’s so sweet and good and he’s going to dump me and find someone sane to fall for and never talk to me again.” Saying it out loud made me sob.
Because it didn’t sound farfetched. It sounded entirely possible.
“Oh, baby. You’re not crazy. You’re in love. They can sometimes feel the same, unfortunately.”
Her response wasn’t what I had wanted to hear. I burrowed deeper under my covers. “I am not in love.”
“Then what are you?”
“Crazy.”
She laughed. “What happened?”
My lips were not connected to my impulse control tonight. I told her what had happened, or what hadn’t happened, and about every other time I was a whacko. At least she let me do it under my covers.
“What was that boy’s name you dated last year? The one your father liked?”
“Josh?”
“Right. Did he make you act differently?”
“No. He didn’t make me feel anything at all.” But anger and fear.
“Maybe that’s the problem, Ava. You were always an agreeable, sweet kid who never complained. But you also never really loved anything strongly before. You weren’t a picky eater, you never cared what song was on, and you got along with everyone. It’s almost like you woke up last year. And now you’re feeling and wanting and you’re not willing to settle for emptiness. Wonder what it was.”
The miscarriage. The heartbreak in her eyes when I found her bleeding. The sobs that followed. The panic attacks that had started and never went away. And then my parents started acting funny. Dad was gone a lot, and Mom was so depressed sometimes she didn’t get out of bed for days. And then he blamed her. They disintegrated. And so did I.
And then I was assigned Bishop Manfield as a partner in home ec, and for the first time in a year the things I felt weren’t bad anymore. I felt good. Scared in an addictive way. Different. Like I wasn’t alone anymore even though everything was still ruined at home.
“Does Bishop make you feel a lot?”
“Everything,” I answered. “Good, bad, perfect, confusing—he makes me feel everything.” I shoved the covers aside and rolled onto my back, looking at her concerned, knowing face. “Can I go visit Dad?”
Her eyes widened. “Sure. I’ll call him tomorrow. But you have to go to school. It’s almost Halloween. Any plans?”
“I was thinking of going as myself. You know. A train wreck.”
She gaped at me and then guffawed, laughing so hard I could still hear her as I drifted off to sleep that night. In the morning, I felt no better. I was ashamed of myself for being the jealous girlfriend for the umpteenth time and forbade myself from ever doing it again. I wanted to feel better. I didn’t want to keep doubting my emotions.
I didn’t want to keep bouncing between high and low.
High was great—touch the clouds and never come down great.
Low was terrible—lay on the ground and never move again low.
The horrible part was that the lows were worth the highs. But maybe that was life. Maybe that’s how it was and there was no middle between both emotions and it was just a constant war between smiles and tears.
Or maybe I had it all wrong.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
I woke up Wednesday morning and got prepared for the day. I didn’t eat because I couldn’t stomach the idea of puking all over Bishop, but I did make a coffee and drank it all, and then made another, and just for good measure, I made one more. Powered on caffeine and adrenaline, I went to school with every intention of waiting for Bishop.
But Bishop was already waiting for me.
And he wasn’t happy. His face was contorted with rage. Dark shadows overtook his handsome face. I’d never seen him so mad before. If I weren’t so jittery from the caffeine, I would have made the connection before I was out of my car and half way walking over to him. He wasn’t mad at just anything. He was mad at me.
He was leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeved black thermal shirt. If I weren’t so terrified of him, I’d take a second to admire how hot he looked. But I stopped a few feet away from him, just in case he bit me or something, and forced myself to look into his eyes.
They were indestructible, sapphire stones.
His lips remained pressed into a hard line. He wasn’t going to do the talking, that much was obvious.
“Hi,” I mumbled meekly. “Are you super mad at me?”
If possible, his face became even scarier.
Super mad just got upgraded to super livid.
“I’m sorry, Bishop. So, so sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this. It’s like I can’t…” I sighed, waiting for him to unthaw. He hadn’t. “You drive me crazy, okay? There. You make me feel things I never felt before, and it’s like I finally have something I want more than anything in the world for the first time in my life and I’m terrified you’re going to leave and make me regret it.” I exhaled, glad to have it out, only, his face was nothing but ice and rage.
It hadn’t been what he wanted to hear. I got this sinking feeling that I had done something unforgivable. Maybe there was a limit on how many times you could lose your crap before your boyfriend lost his, too.
I wrung my hands together, fighting the sting in my eyes. “Do you hate me?”
If his eyes were glass, they would cut me. All up. My heart sunk. He did hate me. Because maybe he didn�
�t hate me.
He moved. He opened his door and got his backpack, and then he walked away from me, not once looking back.
I leaned against his car and watched him leave, so ready to crawl inside and disappear, when I actually looked inside his car and saw how crammed it was. I frowned, pressing my face to the window. He had his clothes piled and folded in the backseat like he was living back there.
My focus shifted off him being mad at me and on him being homeless. How long had he known? I pressed my hand to his window and let that sink in. That while I was ignoring him yesterday and assuming the worst, he had nowhere to call home. Nowhere to shower, eat, or be safe.
No wonder he was so pissed off at me.
I was a terrible girlfriend.
The bell rang out over campus, but my feet didn’t move. I pulled my cell phone out and called my mom.
She answered with a whisper. “Yes? I’m at work and my boss has a client who’s not happy.”
“Bishop’s been sleeping in his car.”
She sighed. “Ava, not now, okay? He’s a big boy. We have our own familial problems right now.”
I figured she’d say that. “Okay.”
“Really…? You’re okay with that? No fighting?”
“Yeah. If Bishop has to sleep in his car, I’m going to sleep in his car with him. I won’t be home tonight unless he can come with me.”
“Ava Marie—”
I hung up and turned my phone on silent. You had to help people. Especially when that person was Bishop and I’d already royally screwed things up. Taking a deep breath, I went to class. I saw Henny in the hall on my way to my second period. The moment she saw me and headed over, I turned around and took the long way to class. I didn’t want to talk to her, or Laurie. Not after they’d treated my relationship like an episode of Pretty Little Liars.
I spotted Bishop at lunch, but there was a cloud of abhorrence radiating around him, so I didn’t risk breathing it in. I sat in a seat I’d never sat at before. Near the back windows by myself.
Once, just once, he looked over at me, and the cold in his eyes chilled my bones and also my heart.
I couldn’t stand to hold his gaze and skirted my eyes down onto my untouched chicken sandwich. In home ec, he didn’t even acknowledge me. I felt this quiet shattering. A slow-moving flash flood until it built and wiped out every emotion I ever loved feeling around him.
The Rarity of Falling Page 21