Being Not Good

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “I thought I was supposed to think before I spoke?” I teased.

  “Addendum. In bed, no thinking. Okay? I want to know what you want, unfiltered.”

  I looked down to hide my smile. “Okay. Let’s go to bed.”

  Eighteen: Davin

  The problem with Avery…

  No. There were numerous problems with Avery.

  But the problem with trying to give Avery lessons in being not good was that eighty percent of the time she was a confident, exuberant, happy person. Most of the things I could come up with to try to make her less good would do nothing to actually make her less good because she’d do it in a way that was painfully obvious it wasn’t normal for her. And anything else she’d just do with her usual sense of wonder and awe.

  So it made trying to teach her whatever it was she thought I was supposed to be teaching her fucking difficult.

  I wasn’t quite so desperate as to pull the streaking across the oval idea out of the rubbish pile, though.

  I was pretty sure being not good had nothing to do with how she kissed me in the hallway or whether she got drunk at a party. It didn’t have anything to do with getting off in the cinema and I was pretty sure she’d lost sleep over not telling Mrs Mack that she’d been the one to set the fire sprinklers off that day.

  The way Avery talked about being not good had everything to do with whatever slip of confidence happened when she was faced with a potentially confronting situation. Not that she’d ever had any trouble being confrontational with me. I didn’t do what she wanted? Fuck that, she’d push and prod and argue until I agreed. And for the guy who never did what anyone wanted, I gave in one hundred percent of the time, conveniently not feeling like she was bullying me or coming to dislike her at all.

  I’ll remind you, “Plot furtherance lets you get away with a multitude of sins.”

  But plot furtherance or otherwise, that wasn’t going to help me try to teach Avery to be not good. I wasn’t sure she had it in her to be not good. It was who she was. Not that she was going to like that assessment.

  I pushed into the Common Room and wasn’t surprised when the room went near-silent as everyone stared in shock that I was stepping foot into the hallowed hall. It’s not like I wasn’t allowed. I just couldn’t remember a time I’d actually gone in there unless a whole year meeting had been called. But if I wanted Avery to keep rocking my world, I was going to have to, at some point, involve myself with her friends and this seemed like the least painful method I could come up with.

  Slowly, people stopped staring at me and went back to their groups and their conversations.

  Well most people.

  Avery smiled at me and waved.

  Blair grinned and nudged Avery.

  And Molly and Krista – “What? I know people’s names. Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean I’m oblivious” – giggled with Blair.

  I nodded, took a breath and headed over to the corner of the room where they were standing. I plonked myself down on the counter masquerading as desk that ran around the edges of the room and nodded once more to the girls.

  “Hi!” Blair, Molly and Krista all chorused and I grimaced, to which they all just giggled again.

  “Hey,” I replied.

  Avery inserted herself between my legs and leant against me like it was second nature as they went back to their conversation while her fingers played absent-mindedly with the bottom of my blazer. I didn’t bother listening to whatever it was they were talking about. Mainly because I didn’t care about if that brand of eyeliner was better than another or whatever celebrity they were going on about. But also partly because Miles had caught my eye from the middle of the room.

  His gaze raked over me and I knew I was being sized-up. I couldn’t have told you if it was because he planned to come over and have it out with me. Or if he was just morbidly curious about his ex’s new fling.

  Body language will tell you a lot about a person. And Miles’ body language inherently told me that he was feeling threatened by something. It also gave me a sneaking suspicion that he and Cindy were not doing as well as me and Avery, or as well as they’d have you believe.

  And ‘well’ here merely referred to how comfortable we were with each other. Physically comfortable in particular. It was perfectly tolerable to have Avery leaning against me while she talked to her friends and it was customary for her to have a hand on me somewhere. It had become my freakish new normal that, whenever we were together, at least some body part would be touching. Mostly this involved her leaning on me, but I had once or twice found myself taking her hand.

  Miles and Cindy on the other hand looked like they weren’t quite sure what to do with each other. Miles, for all his supposed charm and elegance, looked like he’d read about how to be casually intimate from one of the greatly repressed Victorians and the execution was a touch elusive. And Cindy looked rigid and uncomfortable under his arm like she’d really rather not be there.

  The cynic in me assumed their relationship was not going quite according to plan. However another diminutive and less cynical part of me wondered if perhaps Cindy was feeling a little less cavalier about public displays of affection when the whole school now knew that she’d been fucking Miles behind Avery’s back.

  Deciding I’d probably maintained eye contact with my girlfriend’s ex for long enough, I threw a fleeting mordant grin at Miles, who gave me a weird sort of nod and finally looked away as though whatever Cindy was saying with Louise was suddenly the most interesting information in his existence.

  “Don’t you think, Davin?” I heard and looked at the four girls who were all staring avidly at me.

  I blinked slowly. “About what?”

  “Were you even listening?” Blair huffed.

  “You know I wasn’t.”

  Molly’s smirk was humoured. “That we should probably book the limo now.”

  I might not have been listening, but that didn’t mean I was ignorant of the topic on which they’d obviously landed. “I’m sure you can do whatever you’d like, ladies,” I told them, subconsciously running my hand down Avery’s leg.

  Blair sighed. “Dates have to be in as well, Davin.”

  I assumed by the fact that they were all looking at me expectantly that even Avery expected we’d still be dating in…what was it? Thirteen weeks until the formal. That seemed like an awfully long commitment in which to be binding myself. But then Avery actually batted her eyelashes at me and I had that overwhelming urge to just cave again.

  “Fine. Send me the bill or whatever.” I shrugged.

  All four of them squealed in excitement and I winced against the cacophony.

  Unsurprisingly the whole room paused in what they were doing to look at them. But Avery was, as usual, unfazed as she turned and flung her arms around me. I begrudgingly hugged her back as the other three made little ‘aren’t they cute’ faces at me.

  “All right. Enough of this,” I said. I kissed Avery’s cheek and gently pushed her off me.

  “Oh! Are you too cool to hug your girlfriend?” Molly asked and I wasn’t sure if I did or didn’t like the wry glint in her brown eyes.

  “Like liquid helium,” I replied and they all looked at me in utter confusion. I rolled my eyes. “It’s an incredibly cold substance that…”

  They were all looking at me like I was suddenly speaking a different language.

  I shook my head. “You know what? Never mind.”

  The bell rang and I had never been more pleased at the indicator of the tediously annoying structure of institutionalised education. I scooted Avery forwards a little so I could stand up. Not that she was terribly helpful as she didn’t seem all that keen on moving any further away from me than necessary.

  “All right. I’ll see you later, babe.” I didn’t know why I insisted on making my movements known to her.

  “Okay.” She turned and gave me a huge smile.

  I bent down to kiss her an
d she leant into me while the girls cheered. I pulled away with a scathing look in their direction.

  “Ladies.” I inclined my head. “I’m sure I’ll see you all later as well.”

  They giggled their goodbyes at me as I grabbed my bag and swept out of the room. As I reached the doors, I almost ran into Miles.

  He kicked his chin in greeting and I did him the service of tipping up an eyebrow in reply. Unlike most other people in this place, I didn’t worship the ground he walked on and I could give zero fucks if I was in his way. Plus, the dude was at least a half-head shorter than me so I could sort of understand him feeling intimidated by me.

  Miles shrugged out his shoulders and cleared his throat, heedless of the fact that he was really the only one in any position to actually make it through the door or that he was holding up the smooth flow of traffic. Which meant that half the Year 12 cohort were currently standing around watching Avery’s ex and current boyfriends staring at each other.

  Sizing each other up across a relatively crowded room was one thing. But I wasn’t into whatever Miles thought we were doing here.

  Miles cleared his throat again. “Davin. What’s up?”

  “Well it’s certainly not the mass exodus of our classmates with the aim of getting to next lesson on time,” I replied dryly.

  Miles seemed to jump a little, then looked behind him. His eyes widened then narrowed before he looked back to me, gave a cursory nod and hurried out. I let his followers hurry right on after him before inserting myself into the flow of students and headed for class.

  I got through the next two lessons and actually arrived at Home Group before Avery. I was unbelievably relieved that she hadn’t insisted on us sitting together in classes. I still got my seat at the back where neither teachers nor other students bothered me and she sat up the front with whatever friend she had in that class, usually Blair.

  Avery did hang around to walk out to lunch with me though and I even found myself holding her hand without her needing to instigate such physical interaction.

  “Are you coming to the Common Room again?” she asked me.

  I huffed. “If it would please you, I’m seventy-three percent sure it won’t kill me.”

  “Are you sure though?” she teased.

  I picked her up and her legs went around my waist instantly as she giggled.

  “Can you not do anything without sounding like some manic pixie?” I asked her, ignoring any correlation my brain made with the whole manic pixie dream girl trope.

  “No.” She was smiling warmly at me.

  “Mr Ambrose!” the dulcet shriek of Mrs Mack floated down the corridor. “I will get the hose out if you keep this up in the hallways.”

  I looked back at her. “Is your office free, then?”

  “Davin!” Avery giggled as she pressed her face into my shoulder.

  “Do you want another Friday, Mr Ambrose?” Mrs Mack asked.

  I pretended to think about it. “I can’t, sorry. I promised Avery I’d engage in some supposedly enjoyable activity.”

  “Put Miss St John down, Mr Ambrose, and get out of the corridor. I don’t know how the hell you two are still together,” I heard her mutter as she walked away.

  I dropped the laughing Avery to the ground. “Yeah. You’re laughing until you’re joining me in detention.”

  “The couple that rebels together, stays together?” she asked.

  I shook my head as I took her hand. “No.”

  She snorted as we walked away. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “No one will believe I’m too good if I get detention.”

  “To get detention, you’d have to do something worth getting detention. You might not be so good anymore, but you’re no bad girl.”

  “What if I want to be?” she asked, swinging my hand in a very well-timed act of paradoxical behaviour.

  Any idiot could see she didn’t want to be a bad girl, but I wasn’t going to pull her up on it just then. We had other things to address first.

  “Then don’t swing my hand like that and be less…chirpy.”

  “You always sound so disgusted with me.”

  I looked at her out the corner of my eye. “It’s not disgust, Avery.”

  “What is it then?”

  I hung my head back with a sigh as I stopped walking and she was pulled up short. “I just don’t get how you’re so happy all the time.”

  “I choose to be.”

  “For the love of all that’s holy, why?”

  “Why do you choose to be so unhappy?” she asked me.

  Well I hadn’t expected that. “I don’t choose it. I’m just naturally talented in the finer arts of discontent.”

  She smiled, but there was an almost sadness in her eyes.

  This was the time people usually told me to just pick myself up and be happy. Yeah, because thanks, I hadn’t thought of that myself. Random stranger on the street tells me to just be happy and suddenly I’m magically fixed.

  I think not.

  But Avery once again surprised me.

  “Can I do anything?”

  I looked behind her because I couldn’t look at her anymore. Somehow I felt like I was letting her down. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you? Because you don’t seem it. You can talk to me.”

  She hadn’t said anything after Dad’s slip the morning after Vinny’s party and I’d been more thankful that I cared to admit for that. I was grateful she was respecting my boundaries.

  But I talked enough already, I didn’t need more. Not about…that. “I am quite capable of talking to you, yes. And I will if I have some piece of communication I feel compelled to convey.”

  “Davin!” She did that thing where she stamped her foot, but I didn’t impugn her for it this time. “You know I can do the whole woe is me thing too you know.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I can bring myself down to your level or whatever.”

  I knew she was being sarcastic to try to get me to open up but I really didn’t feel like analysing myself more than I was already forced to do.

  So, “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe this obsessive desire to fit in is what lets people walk all over you?” tore out of my mouth.

  “What?” she blinked and she actually pulled away from me a step, her hand jerking out of mine.

  I groaned, absolutely furious with myself. I’d extra fucked up now. “Babe, that was not…” I sighed. “I didn’t mean that.”

  She frowned at me and I felt no delight in seeing it on her face this time precisely because I had caused it. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a carefully crafted string of words designed to show off how clever you are.”

  Usually that was true. When it felt like she was close to realising I was even worse than she thought I was, apparently not.

  I reached for her again and I swear an eternity passed while she debated taking it or not. Finally she did and I felt my heart restart.

  “Avery, I’m sorry. I…” I couldn’t exactly lie to her could I? “While the question wasn’t completely wrong, I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

  She frowned but I was gratified when she didn’t pull away. “You think I have an obsessive desire to fit in?”

  “I think it’s a natural human quality and you’re more concerned about being nice to others.”

  “So, yes?” she asked and I shrugged regretfully. “And you think that’s why people treat me like I’m too good?”

  I shrugged again. “The thought has crossed my mind.”

  She looked around and I was pleased people hadn’t tarried in the hallway while we’d been talking. The lure of the freedom only granted by not being in the school building at break was obviously stronger than watching Avery have an argument with her boyfriend.

  Finally, she drew herself up and nodded once. “Okay. So teach how to not care about fitting in and being nice to people.�
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  For a guy who was an expert in the subject, I wasn’t sure I was capable of teaching her that. Or that I wanted to.

  But she wasn’t as easily corruptible as she seemed to hope she’d be when we started this. So I could probably teach her that.

  It was clear to me what her problem was now.

  All I had to do was find ways to give her more exposure to and practise with confrontations. I needed to show her how to confront people when she had a right to and to stand her ground if someone confronted her. I also needed to do this without traumatising her, breaking the trust she had in me, or jeopardising our relationship.

  And preferably avoid more confrontations between us.

  Easy, right?

  Nineteen: Avery

  The two weeks of the holidays passed so quickly, I couldn’t have said where they went.

  Blair and I hung out either by ourselves or with Molly, Krista and a few of the others. I went for a few runs, finding the whole mindfulness thing a happy accident in my lessons. I watched movies with Ebony and listened to her whining when Davin didn’t join us. And of course, I spent time with Davin as he tried to teach me how to be less nice to people. You’d have thought for the amount of time I’d spent with him, I’d have picked something up. But it seems I was a slow student. I did however manage to show my displeasure to the guy behind the counter at Hungry Jacks when he gave me a Coke instead of lemonade.

  Davin’s dad was home the first week of the holidays and I noticed that we spent more time at my place than his. I didn’t dare bring it up because I wasn’t sure how he’d take that. He and Dad talked books. He tried to convince Mum that the Gothic look was coming back in and she should include some darker shades in her designs – about which I was almost sure he cracked a joke. And he and Ebony bonded over books and the old movies he’d deign to let her join in on.

  In his weird brooding way, Davin doted on my little sister, bringing her books to borrow and driving her to meet up with her friends and arguing the finer points of whether or not Edward Cullen was a respectable specimen of fiction. And I was almost convinced that Ebony was crushing hard on my boyfriend, but I had to say I didn’t blame her if she was. Every time I tried to pinpoint the exact reasons why I liked Davin, it was like every one floated just out of reach and all I could come up with was a warm feeling in my chest and the truth I just did like him.