by J. L. Beck
“Stop!” I slap his arm and he laughs.
“Vance didn’t put me up to this. I’m truly sorry and wanted to treat you to an excessive amount of carbs.”
I tilt my head as if it will tell me how genuine he’s being. “Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?”
He shakes his head, a few of the longer strands of dark brown hair fall into his face. He needs a haircut, and to leave me the hell alone.
“I don’t know, but I’m not.” His tongue darts out over his bottom lip, and he turns on that smoldering look that makes all the women’s panties go poof. He reminds me of Vance so much that it’s almost sickening and I’m done with being everyone’s punching bag. Done with being treated like shit.
“I’ll pass. I don’t have room for self-absorbed assholes in my life.” I shoulder past him and continue walking, but being the persistent asshole he is, he continues to follow me.
“Look, I’m sorry. I was only being a friend to him. He told me you lied to him. How was I supposed to know what the hell was going on?”
“Maybe ask me?” I yell, louder than necessary, drawing the attention of a few lingering bystanders. Clark cuts in front of me again and I almost run into him, stopping a foot short of actually doing so.
Clenching my hand into a fist, I feel this sudden urge to punch him in the face. I’m tired of being shoved around, of being mocked, and called a liar. I don’t want their apologies… I want their silence. I want peace.
“Just, let me apologize. Let me take you to have pizza. Remember how much fun we had last time?” Clark smirks that panty-melting smile of his and I hate myself for recalling the laughter, and fun we had, because truly we did have a great time that night, and as friends only.
Which is something I know he doesn’t do with anyone that’s a female. Stupidly, I care about Clark, but not in the way one would think. He’s more of a little brother to me, an annoying, rude, cocky little brother.
“Don’t make me beg. I will drop down to my knees in front of everyone. I don’t care if it makes a scene, I’ll do it.”
I can feel my cheeks heating with embarrassment at the thought. Clark’s all about making a scene and I know he’ll do it.
“No!” I say in a panic, wrapping a hand around his wrist when he makes an attempt to drop down to his knees. “Jesus, no. Don’t draw any more attention to us. You standing here talking to me draws enough attention as it is.”
“That sounds like a compliment, A.” He wiggles his thick eyebrows.
As angry as I am over everything that happened, I can’t place the blame on Clark. He befriended me, took me out, spent time with me, and even stuck up to Vance in my honor.
Plus, it’s not him I really want to hurt, it’s Vance.
Rolling my eyes, I try and hide the smile pulling at my lips. “Carbs are my weakness.”
“I know, that’s why I’m using them. Thank God you have a kryptonite.” He sighs like he’s been spending all afternoon trying to get me to go with him.
Dramatic much.
“No Vance?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.
He nods. “No Vance.”
My gaze narrows. “If you’re lying to me and he shows up, I get to throat punch you.”
He beams. “Fine. One throat punch if he shows up. But what do I get if he doesn’t?”
This flirtatious shit has got to stop.
“To live?”
His face deadpans. “You wound me, Ava, you legit shoot me down every single time. It’s like you’re immune to my charm or something.”
“That’s because I am.”
Looking hurt, he asks, “So, it’s a date?”
“Not a date, Clark, but yes I suppose I can go with you for pizza. As friends, only friends, nothing else,” I sigh, and Clark does this weird little shimmy of excitement.
“I’ll message you the deets,” he says before giving me a quick hug. I shove at his shoulders and he releases me. Clark is too much, and knowing he’s Vance’s best friend, I should stay away, far, far, away, but for some reason, I can’t.
I don’t hate Clark. Clark isn’t the reason for my pain, my heartache.
Vance is, and I should probably remind myself of that often, so I don’t fall down the rabbit hole and into another trap.
I finish classes and head home to change before heading out to meet up with Clark. When I enter the foyer, I hear voices, they’re muffled, but like always, carry through the house. Ignoring them, or trying too, I grab a bottle of water and granola bar from the kitchen. I try and make my mind go blank, try and forget that he exists, but my foot hits the bottom step of the stairs at the same time Vance’s voice shatters through my resistance.
“I’ll bury you. I will fucking bury you so deep you won’t be able to breathe. You did this to me, and you’ll pay. All these years I blamed her. I said things... I…” Vance sounds hurt, heartbroken even, and though I want him to feel that way, there’s a pang of sadness that ripples through me at the thought.
“You’re kids, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure she’ll forget the things that you said.” His father’s intolerable voice meets my ears next.
“We’re not just kids,” Vance yells, the venom in his words shatters me. He’s more than angry, he’s on the verge of exploding. “And what happened all those years ago was because you and Laura couldn’t keep your hands off each other. So while you might be able to blame Ava and me in your heads, we both know that you were the ones fucking.”
A gasp escapes my lips and I bring my hand to my mouth. I’ve never heard him talk to his father like that before.
There’s a loud slapping noise, and I hold my breath, anxiously waiting to hear what is going to be heard next. I told myself I didn’t care, that I wouldn’t fall for Vance ever again, but the truth is I’m not over him, not even close. My body craves his touch, craves his cruel words, his venomous rage. I’ve come accustomed to him, and like a drug, I can’t get enough.
“Fuck with her, touch a single hair on her body and I’ll ruin you. Do you hear me?” Vance’s voice finally cuts through the silence.
“Yes, I’ve got it,” Henry says.
The squeaking of a door opening has me barreling up the stairs, two at a time until I reach my room. I slip inside, closing the door softly behind me.
What was that? Was Vance protecting me from his father? I don’t understand. I growl in frustration, sinking down onto the edge of the mattress. Ripping open the granola bar, I shove pieces into my mouth, because there’s nothing else to do.
I try not to think about what I just heard. I try and remind myself that Vance doesn’t really care about me, not like I care about him. He would’ve believed me if he did.
But the fact that he stuck up to his dad for me, the fact that he went against his own father… it resonates in me. It’s in no way worthy of forgiveness, but it shows he’s trying...that he… “I love you, Ava…” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve repeated that inside my head. I can’t tell you how true I wish it was.
No! No, be strong, don’t fall for it. Don’t fall into his trap. He doesn’t care about you.
Actions speak louder than words, my brain says. Ugh, my heart and my mind want two different things. He called me a liar after I confessed to him the truth. Maybe he didn’t fully believe me, but he could’ve asked, he could’ve come to me if he had questions.
But he didn’t, he believed his father…
Tears fill my eyes. Feeling the need to do something, anything, I open my laptop and prepare to finish my English paper. But as soon as I click on the Word document, a new page opens. What the hell? Anger replaces the slightest bit of remorse I was just feeling. I check the trash icon and all the folders inside my homework file.
There’s nothing… not a single thing.
He didn’t. I stare at the screen. My eyes piercing the screen, willing the document that’s no longer there, that I spent hours typing up to reappear. All the work is gone, disappeared, missing… the proof is right
in front of me and I still don’t want to believe it.
He did this, he deleted it all. Tears slip from my eyes, and I wipe them away as fast as they fall. I can’t cry for him anymore. He’s done so many things to hurt me, break me, and crying even one more tear for him isn’t right. It’s wrong, so wrong. He doesn’t deserve my tears, my pain, my sadness. He deserves nothing… I’ll never forgive him for hurting me like this.
Never.
45
Vance
Clark better be right about her showing up here tonight, or else I’m going to be using my fists to rearrange his face. Not really, but I’m feeling a little on edge with all the shit going on, so a fight wouldn’t be a bad idea. Bloodying someone’s face seems like fun right about now. My life is starting to feel like an atomic bomb that’s waiting to go off.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
An explosion is coming, and I need to be ready for it, but I also need to make shit right with Ava. Never in my life have I tried more for a girl, but then again, Ava isn’t just any girl, she is the girl.
Ava has been avoiding me at all cost. She told me through her mother that if I come in or near her room, she will move out immediately. I tried to ‘run into her’ at school, but she somehow managed to outsmart me. I haven't seen her in days and it’s fucking killing me.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I walk down the sidewalk, a nervous energy encompassing me. Will she talk to me? Push me away? Slap me? The way she acted toward me earlier, it killed me. She ripped my heart out and fed it to me like I was a fucking dog. I thought maybe, just maybe telling her I loved her would change things, but it didn’t. It only ignited the hate inside of her.
Not that she shouldn’t hate me. I’m man enough to know I fucked up. I can admit that to myself, to her, but all I want is to make things right. There’s a sign up ahead in the shape of a pizza slice, flashing brightly into the night.
Slice It is written across the piece. I slow, exhaling all the bad energy out of me. If she’s here, then I’ll owe Clark big time. If she’s not, then I’ll lose my fucking mind and bury myself in another bottle of Jack Daniels. As I pass the huge glass window while walking to the door, I gaze through it looking for her.
There are three or four ladies in the place with dark brown hair, but they aren’t her. My hands balled into fists in my pocket. I’m seconds away from breaking something when I catch sight of her and Clark in a corner booth off to the right. Mousy brown hair, pretty green emerald eyes that sparkle with happiness that I can see, feel from here.
She’s laughing at something Clark says and this strange thing happens as I stand there like an outsider watching them. He deserves her. He’s what she needs. I have no idea where the thought comes from, but it terrifies me, because deep down, I know it’s true. I don’t deserve her. She deserves better, someone that’s not a loose cannon with a shitload of baggage.
For a split second, I actually consider walking away when I notice Clark leaning into her face. Lust fills his eyes, and something snaps inside me.
He’ll never love her, not like I do. Maybe I don’t deserve her, but neither does he. He’s incapable of love. Unlovable as he says. The courage builds and I open the door, walking inside, the smell of tomato sauce and freshly grated cheese fills my nostrils.
The place is a seat yourself one and so I do, I walk over to where Ava and Clark are sitting, soft laughter emitting from the booth. It feels like I’m intruding and probably because I guess I am? Clark’s face falls as soon as he sees me coming. Did he not expect me to show up? He’s the one that put this together. Maybe he didn’t think I was serious about winning her back? I know he’s got his own shit going on, so maybe it’s that?
“Clark… what’s going on? Are you okay?” Ava’s concerned voice filters into my ears right as I make my appearance known to her. Sauntering up to the booth like a broken-hearted puppy, I gaze down at her. The air thickens. I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. In my own misery, in the pain of my actions.
Murder flickers in Ava’s green eyes and without warning, she reaches across the table with a closed fist and socks Clark right in the throat. Caught off guard, Clark lifts a hand to his throat and starts to cough like he smokes five packs of cigarettes a day. His coughs grow louder, and I can feel eyes on us, attention gathering.
“You’re a liar! I asked you if he was going to come and you said no,” she growls, her pink lips curling in anger.
I knew he wasn’t going to tell her I was coming, because if he did, she wouldn’t have shown up, but I didn’t expect her to punch like that.
“You punched me…” he croaks, chugging his entire glass of soda, though he doesn’t sound shocked by her actions. I can’t help the smile that christens my lips. Ava’s gaze turns to me, anger, sadness, and hate, they all mingle in those beautiful eyes that are piercing mine like daggers.
“What don’t you understand? I don’t want anything to do with you. You got your wish, Vance. You hurt me, you made me hate you. Or maybe that wasn’t enough for you? Have you come to deliver more hate, more cruel words? As if deleting three weeks’ worth of homework wasn’t enough for you?”
Fuck. I’ve forgotten about doing that, and I’ll need to reach out to her professors so that I can get her some more time to complete the assignments, but right now I need to talk to her, even if the only reaction she’s going to give me is one of anger.
“I wasn’t lying to you when I apologized, and I’m sorry about the homework. I’m an idiot, a fucking piece of shit, whatever you want to call me, I’m probably it.”
“And how would I know that, that you’re sorry? I’m not touching the name calling. I’m trying to be the adult in this situation.”
She blinks up at me in disbelief.
“You… You wouldn’t know that. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I have to try. I want to know everything, what happened that night. I want to explain myself to you, make you understand why I did what I did.”
Bitter laughter emits from her throat and Clark’s gaze widens because just like me, he knows we’re drawing attention.
Shoving up into a standing position, Ava wiggles out of the booth looking like she’s going to bolt. But she doesn’t, instead, she exits the booth and stands toe to toe with me, she blows out a frustrated breath, but all I can smell is her, all I crave is her.
“I don’t care why you did it, Vance. And you’re right, you don’t deserve my forgiveness. Someone as cruel, as horrible as you, doesn’t deserve the love that I could give. All you deserve is to wallow in your own sorrows.”
With a hard shove to the chest, she pushes past me and walks away. My throat tightens, what the fuck do I say to that?
“Go to her, fix this shit,” Clark orders, rubbing at his throat with his hand. I have a million things I want to say to him, but it’s not him I need to talk to right now. It’s her. Turning, my feet move all on their own, slapping against the floor, and then the pavement when I get outside. What the fuck am I going to say to her that I haven’t already? I spot her up ahead, crossing the street and run right at her. My heart racing inside my chest. I have to fix this. I fucking have to.
Reaching out for her, my fingers land on her shoulder, forcing her to turn around, and she does, she whirls around like a raging bull.
“Leave me alone.” The molten lava in her words burns. It burns like I’ve actually been burnt by fucking fire.
I stare and stare another second, beautiful, so fucking perfect. She’s an angry vixen and I have to have her, as selfish as it is, I need her. So I do the only thing I know I can do, the first thing that comes to mind. I kiss her.
She tastes like pizza sauce, and my lips mold to her full ones in a way that makes me want to kiss her all day long, that makes my cock stiffen in my jeans. Her hands press against my chest, her tiny fingers gripping onto the fabric, pulling me closer.
Yes! She still wants me.
I feel like a firework igniting, getting ready to blas
t the sky with an array of colors. I have to have her… I have to consume her like she’s consumed me. Guiding us backward until she’s pressed against the nearest wall, giving her nowhere to escape I deepen the kiss, my tongue slipping into her mouth, my hands moving up her body and to her rosy red cheeks. With her lips on mine, there’s no talking, no chance of either of us saying something we can’t take back.
“What the hell!?” she gasps, pushing me back, breaking the kiss.
Her chest heaves, so does mine. My eyes drop down to her lips. I want to kiss her again, kiss those swollen lips of hers.
“I told you to leave me alone, not kiss me. Leave. Me. Alone.”
“You want this. You want me. Admit it.” I lick my lips, my insides burning for her, only her. No one can compare to the way she makes me feel. She brings out the worst in me, while I bring out the best in her, and together we can fix all the fucked up pieces of our life.
Her eyes fill with sadness. “I wanted you. Past tense. Before you showed me that I’m nothing to you. That I’m just someone you can use for a good time, and disregard once the last aftershocks of pleasure have rippled through you. Before you called me a liar after I told you the truth.”
My mouth snaps open, my response on the tip of my tongue, but she shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes.
“You only want me because you know you fucked up.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “I love you, Ava. I’ve never loved anyone, not in the sense of actually loving them. You’re the first girl, outside of my mother, I’ve ever cared for.”
She shakes her head in disbelief and places a hand to my chest, gently pushing me backward. The organ beneath her palm pulses, pumping blood, reminding me that it beats for her and only her.
“Stop trying, stop caring, stop apologizing. Just stop.” Cruel anguish coats her words. Her eyes squeeze shut, and when they open a moment later, I see tears streaking down her pale cheeks. “You don’t know what love is, because if you did, you wouldn’t have hurt me the way you did. I don’t want you, Vance. I. Don’t. Want. You.”