“No.” I shake my head. I can feel the tears threatening. My chin is trembling as I try to hold them in and she can see it. I know she can. Mom tilts her head, compassion written all over her face and then the tears are flowing down my cheeks. I can’t control them any longer. I’m full blown crying. “I can’t tell you what’s wrong,” I sob.
She frowns. “Why not?”
“You’ll tell Dad. And he’ll tell Jake. And then it’ll turn into a huge mess.” I cover my face with my hands and really let loose. My face is wet with my tears, and I feel Mom move so she’s standing directly beside me, slipping her arm around my shoulders, giving me a comforting squeeze. I turn into her and press my face against her chest, soaking her shirt with my sadness, the tears coming nonstop.
I don’t like crying. It’s a weakness, and I never like showing anyone I’m weak. So I hold it in. Even when I was little, I wouldn’t cry much. Not even when I was scraped up and bleeding after a fall. Mom always says I’m like a dam. The more the tears stay inside me, the more I stress the dam, until it finally breaks loose and splits wide open. That’s when all my tears flow.
Instead of blowing my top with anger, I’m crying my eyes out with sadness.
Stupid, stupid boys.
“Whatever it is,” she says after letting me cry it out for a few minutes. “You can tell me. I won’t tell your father.”
“Yes you will.” I groan into her shirt, my shoulders shaking as I cry harder.
She soothes me by rubbing her hand up and down my back. “I won’t. I can keep a secret between us Ava, depending on what it is. If it’s something serious, though—as in someone broke the law—then I have to tell your father.”
“No one broke the law,” I say miserably, still keeping my face pressed against her shirt. Sometimes, there’s nothing better than sobbing your eyes out to your mama about how horrible your life is.
“Then what is it? Friend trouble?” I shake my head no. “Boy trouble?”
I nod. Just once.
“Ah.” She rests her hand against the back of my head, then tugs on the ends of my ponytail. “It’s one of Jake’s friends on the team, huh.”
“No,” I say raggedly. If I say who it is, I can’t face her.
God, I really think I’m going to come clean right now.
“Someone Jake hates then,” she says, humor lacing her tone.
I go stiff. My tears magically stop, and I sniff loudly. She’s so close.
“Oh come on, Ava. You wouldn’t be seeing someone your brother hates, would you?” she asks.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Neither did he,” I say, though I wonder about that last statement regarding Eli. Sometimes it feels like he pursued me because of who I am.
“Who is it?” she asks.
“Eli,” I say, my voice small. “Eli Bennett.”
Mom grabs hold of my shoulders and gently pushes me away, so she can look into my eyes. Her expression is one of pure surprise. “No.”
I wince. “Yeah.”
“Ava,” she chastises, shaking her head. “He’s…”
“I know, I know,” I practically wail, wishing I could cry into her shirt again, but she’s got a pretty firm grip on me.
“When did this first start between you two? How?” I think I blew my mother’s mind with this confession.
“At the football camp this summer,” I admit. “It sort of just…continued from there between us.”
“Are you in love with him?” she asks, her expression dead serious.
I gape at her for a moment, running the word love over and over again in my brain. Am I in love with him? I don’t think so. Not yet. It’s still too new, too fresh. I can feel myself falling for him. For some reason, he makes it really easy.
“Oh God, you’re totally in love with him,” she says with a groan, slowly shaking her head as she releases her hold on me. I don’t bother denying it. She won’t believe me if I do, and I can honestly say I don’t know if I am in love with him anyway. I’ve never experienced true romantic love before. “Ava. I realize Eli Bennett is very cute.”
So cute.
Gorgeous really.
And hot. I’ve seen him without a shirt on. I’ve touched his six-pack abs.
“And from what I’ve seen, he talks a good game,” Mom continues.
A great game, I want to tell her.
“He’s an excellent football player. Popular at his school.” She sends me a look. “But he taunts your brother daily on social media. He says terrible, awful things.”
I frown. “When have you seen his stories?”
“Your dad has showed a few to me.” She slowly shakes her head. “He’s probably not the best choice.”
“He’s definitely not the best choice,” I tell her. “I know that. We didn’t mean for it to happen. Well, I didn’t mean for it to happen. But he’s very—determined.”
Mom smiles faintly. “I know what that’s like.”
I don’t necessarily want to hear about my father’s pursuit of her. I know it wasn’t one hundred percent normal, but I don’t want to focus on them. They’re happy. They’ve been happy for years.
This conversation needs to focus on me. And Eli. It feels selfish, to think this way, but I can’t help it.
“Sometimes I wonder if he’s using me because of Jake,” I admit, my voice small. “I’ve never really come right out and asked him that, but I can’t help but think it. They hate each other. Eli is always trying to get a rise out of him.”
“You should ask him,” Mom says, her voice and gaze gentle. “Talk to him, sweetie. Let him know how you feel.”
I glance down at the kitchen counter, staring at the shiny flecks of silver in the granite countertop. “Oh, he’s already reassured me that he’s not. But it’s so hard because he goes to a different school. We don’t see each other every day. He plays for our biggest rival. It’s just—it’s complicated.”
“It sounds complicated.” She tilts her head, her gaze meeting mine. I feel like I’m staring into my own eyes. It’s weird. “When your father finds out about this, he probably won’t be pleased.”
Panic rises in my throat, making me feel like I might choke. “You’re not going to tell him, right? You promised.”
“I won’t tell him. As long as you two aren’t breaking the law.” Her stern mother look appears. “How old is he?”
“Seventeen,” I answer.
“Are you two…you know. Having sex?”
“Mom! No!” My cheeks are hot. I hope my overreaction doesn’t look like I’m lying. Because Eli and I haven’t had sex.
Yet.
“Well if you are, or if you do, make sure you use protection.” I open my mouth to protest this awkward conversation, but she holds a hand up, stopping me. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and we’ve already had this conversation before, but I still feel the need to say something. You don’t want to get carried away, and the next thing you know, you’re pregnant.”
“Mom.” I draw the word out like I’m twelve and humiliated. Which I sort of feel like right now.
“Listen.” She settles on the closest barstool, bumping her shoulder against mine. “I just want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, that’s wonderful. Amazing. But if he brings you down, dump him, Ava. A high school relationship should be fun, not full of drama and bullshit.”
I burst out laughing. “Mom, get real. All high school relationships are full of drama and bullshit.”
“Oh, I know.” Mom smiles. “But if you can avoid the drama and bullshit, you’ll be a lot happier. Trust me.”
Twenty-Eight
Ava
I pull into Eli’s school parking lot at 6:05—five minutes early. Eli told me to park in the farthest lot, which is closest to the football field, underneath the solar panels. I do exactly as he told me, ducking in my seat, the moment I turn the engine off.
A group of girls on the Mustang cheer team are walking a few feet away across the parking lot. They get out o
f practice later than we do, that’s for sure. I really hope they don’t see me.
Thankfully, they don’t notice me or even glance in my car’s direction. I can hear their laughter as they keep walking, and once they’re out of sight, I sit up straight once more, breathing a sigh of relief.
My stomach is doing flips as I wait for Eli to show up. I spot boys from his team walking up from the field, headed for the parking lot. They appear sweaty and tired, and I wonder how sweaty Eli will be. And wonder if it’ll gross me out or if I’ll find it kind of hot.
Knowing how I feel about him, I’m sure I’ll be outwardly grossed out yet secretly, I’ll love it.
Soon, it’s 6:10. Then 6:15. More and more boys are leaving, but none of them are Eli. A few of their faces I recognize. I spot Jackson Rivers and I duck down, not wanting him to notice me. He’d approach my car and talk to me like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and I can’t risk it.
It’s almost 6:20 when I finally see Eli walking toward the parking lot. Thankfully alone. He’s glancing around, as if he’s looking for me and I take the opportunity to stare at him unabashedly. He’s wearing black gym shorts and a cropped white football jersey with a purple number one on the front of it. He hikes his backpack higher onto his shoulder, offering me a glimpse of his stomach and everything inside of me tightens.
If this is how he’s dressed for our so-called date tonight, I kind of wish I hadn’t put so much effort into my outfit.
When he sees my car, his entire face lights up. And when his eyes meet mine, I can see them sparkle, even with this much distance between us. Unable to contain it, I smile at him. He smiles in return. Picks up his step and jogs over to my car as I roll down my window.
“You came,” he says as he stops right beside the driver’s side door.
“You didn’t think I’d show up?” I ask.
“I always worry about it,” he says, tilting his head as he contemplates me. “Are you wearing a dress, Callahan?”
“Yeah.” I suddenly feel shy. Especially since he’s thrusting practically his entire upper body through my open window so he can thoroughly check me out. “It was kind of hot today.”
Fall is a giant tease where we live. A few days of cooler weather will happen, and then the next week brings highs in the mid-nineties. It sucks. Makes practice after school sometimes a total drag.
This week has been hot. So I’m wearing a dress I got at American Eagle over the summer. It’s pale blue and dotted with white flowers, with a V-neckline and buttons down the front. It’s flirty and cute and I feel pretty in it.
The way Eli is currently studying me, I feel even prettier.
“Damn.” He whistles, his hot gaze raking over me. “Look at your legs. You’re clearly trying to torture me.”
“Eli,” I chastise, because I don’t know what else to say. He comes up with the craziest stuff. “You’ve seen my legs before.”
“Not in that dress.” His gaze takes on an appreciative gleam. “Though I prefer the cheer skirt if I’m being real with you right now.”
I just laugh because what else can I do? He’s grinning at me, and I’m smiling at him, and I can’t believe how at ease I feel.
With him.
“Let’s take your car. Is that okay?” he asks as he withdraws most of his body from my window.
“Sure.” I send him a look. “Do you want to drive?”
He grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Once I switch over to the passenger seat by crawling over the center console, and Eli throws his stuff in the backseat, we’re off. Eli drives like a maniac as we exit the parking lot, making the tires squeal as he turns onto the road. I contemplate telling him about my mother knowing we’re together, but I’m afraid that’ll just freak him out. It still freaks me out, because honestly, I don’t know how Mom is able to keep such a big secret from Dad. So far, he hasn’t said a word to me.
Thank goodness.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he turns left onto the main road, instead of right, which would take us to the highway.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, smiling over at me. He reaches across the console and rests his big hand on my knee, his long fingers gently squeezing. “I think you’ll like it.”
“Okay.” He hasn’t let me down with a surprise yet. I trust him.
And that’s a heady realization. That I trust Eli. That I’m comfortable enough to meet him at his school without being scared, and then I let him drive my car. That I told my mom about our relationship. These are all major moments and maybe someday soon, we can become public.
Maybe someday soon, we can be a real couple.
The sun is setting behind us as we head east toward the mountains. It’s sparsely populated out here, mostly by large homes with plenty of acreage. Some of them have cattle or horses. We drive past a small elementary school on the left side of the road and Eli points to it.
“Did you go to school there?” he asks.
It’s a very small school, only a couple of buildings and a multipurpose room. There are three yellow buses parked out front, but otherwise the parking lot is empty. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t grow up here.”
“Oh right. You were in San Francisco or wherever when your dad played football,” Eli says.
“Yes, exactly.” I pause only for a moment. “Did you grow up here?”
“Nah. We moved here the summer before my freshman year. My brother was a senior. Man, was he pissed.” Eli slowly shakes his head, chuckling.
“Why did your family move?”
“At the time, they tried to tell us they needed a change of scenery. I look back and realize my mother probably made Dad move because she caught him having an affair with one of my friend’s moms,” Eli explains, his voice tinged with bitterness.
“Oh.” I glance down at my hands, which are curled in my lap. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. I know. The change of scenery didn’t help.” He laughs again, but it is completely devoid of humor.
“Your face looks better,” I tell him, wanting to change the subject.
His hand automatically shoots up to touch the healing cut. “It doesn’t hurt as much.”
“How are things at home?”
“Tense.” He keeps his gaze focused on the road. “She’s trying to suck up to me.”
“Your mom?”
He nods.
“Where’s your dad?”
“Living in an apartment in Fresno. He has no interest in seeing me. Unless it’s to call me and tell me to stop being such a shit to my mother.” He laughs, but there is zero humor in the sound. “He shits all over her on a regular basis, so he has no room to talk.”
I say nothing, though I can feel the sympathy on my face as I watch him. He must feel it too, because he sends me a quick look, a scowl on his pretty face. With the fading bruise and healing cut, he looks extra tough. “I don’t want your pity, princess.”
“It’s not pity I’m feeling,” I tell him. “I just—I hate that you’re going through this.”
“It’s my senior year. I assume they want to fuck it up as royally as possible,” he says with a shrug.
“Do you really think they’re doing this to you on purpose?”
“I have no idea. Really, I don’t believe they think about me at all. They’re selfish assholes. Including my brother,” he says irritably. “You think he’s called or texted me since I told him what happened? That would be a no.”
That must hurt. And this is why Eli acts the way he does. Mr. Tough Guy, call everyone out on their supposed shit. Make up wild stories and act like he’s the most arrogant guy at his school. It’s a façade, a front. Deep down, he’s in pain.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a silent few minutes full of tension. “They sound like they’re wrapped up in their own problems.”
He snorts. Shakes his head. Taps the edge of the steering wheel with his fingers in an erratic rhythm. “That’s one way to put it.
”
I don’t want to talk about his family anymore. It’s obvious they make him unhappy and are probably the root of his problems. “How was practice?” I ask him.
“Fucking great,” he says, his expression, his entire demeanor relaxing. “We’re playing a tough team this Friday. Tougher than yours.”
“Good luck,” I tell him with a cheesy smile.
He smirks. “Baby, I need more than that from you to ensure my luck.”
My entire body tingles at the promise in his words. I’m sure he expects a lot more from me. When we messed around last Friday, I never actually touched him in a super sexual way. And while he didn’t make any demands, or even ask me to do anything, I felt sort of bad. I still feel bad.
But then I remember Cami and all my guilty feelings fly right out the window.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he says easily.
“How many times did you have sex with Cami Lockhart?” My tone is sugary sweet and completely innocent.
Deep inside, I’m feeling anything but sweet. More like I’m this close to exploding with anger.
He jerks the steering wheel, nearly veering off the road. I shriek like I can’t help myself, grateful when he rights the car with a quick flick of his wrists. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.
“I mean exactly what I said,” I return just as carefully. “How many times have you had sex with Cami?”
“I’ve never had actual sex with Cami.”
I scoff. The noise just falls out of me as if I have no control. “I don’t believe you.”
“Too bad, because it’s true. We’ve uh, messed around some, but no actual penetration happened between me and Cami,” he says.
I make a face, disgusted by his use of the word penetration. “You really expect me to believe that?”
He hits the brakes, the tires squealing as he pulls over to the side of the road. Throwing it into park, he undoes his seatbelt and climbs out of the car, never saying a word to me.
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