Heartache And Hope: Heartache Duet Book 1

by McLean, Jay

  Connor lies on his back post-bliss cleanup, stroking the loose strands of my hair while I listen to his heartbeat thump against my cheek. He asks, “Did you and Trevor have a hard time getting along at the beginning?”

  “We still have a hard time,” I joke.

  He chuckles.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know,” he says through a sigh. “Every now and then I get this random thought in my head that my mom’s out there, you know? And she has this new family… and that new family is everything she ever wanted. Everything I wasn’t.” His voice cracks, and I lean up on my elbow so I can look down at him, at his distant eyes and the slight frown pulling on his lips.

  I run my mouth along his, but I don’t kiss him. “I hope one day you wake up and realize that the mistakes she made are her burdens, not yours. I hope that you’ll eventually understand that what she did isn’t a reflection of you—of your three-year-old self.” I’m getting worked up, so I try to take a calming breath, but I fail. “And if she is out there, I hope that one day she’ll find you, and she’ll see the same man I do. The strong, empathetic, courageous, protective man who cares so much about so many things, who wears other people’s pain as if it were his… I hope she sees you and she fucking hates herself for not being the one to raise you, to guide you into becoming that person.” My nostrils flare with my exhale. “I hope she hates herself as much as I hate her.” I grind out the last few words, my anger getting the best of me. I sob. I don’t mean to, but I do, and as promised, Connor wipes the tears away, his heavy sigh hitting my cheeks.

  “It’s okay, Ava.”

  “It’s not,” I cry out. “It’s not okay, Connor. How dare she… how dare she leave you like that—to fucking die—and leave you with these questions and these… these doubts about yourself! God, I hate her so much!”

  He leans up a little, lifts his hand to my jaw, his eyes taking me in for a long moment. Then he says, “Do you know the name of that movie with Omar Epps? It’s like this guy and girl who live next door to each other, and they’re both trying to pursue basketball careers...”

  “Love and Basketball?” I ask.

  He smiles, settles his head back down. “That’s pretty much what my life is at the moment.” I try to hide my stupid grin on his neck while he brings me closer, my heart racing, flying. Kissing my forehead, he murmurs, “Love and basketball.”

  We hold on to each other for the rest of the afternoon, talking about everything but tomorrow. We fight, we float, we laugh, and we fall. God, do we fall. Deeper and deeper into these reckless emotions.

  Chapter 40

  Ava

  The moment Connor pulls up in front of our houses, my heart begins to sink. I know it’s not reasonable to feel this way, to fear the idea of missing someone so achingly even though it’s just one night.

  Connor sighs, his head rolling to face me. “I wish today lasted forever,” he murmurs.

  I take his hand, kiss the inside of his wrist. “Me, too.”

  A short, sharp whistle has both of us looking up. Trevor’s fists are balled, his shoulders squared as he comes down the porch steps. Only they’re not my steps… they’re Connor’s.

  * * *

  Connor’s dad sits on the couch opposite us while Trevor paces the living room, back and forth, back and forth, and I wish he’d stop because it’s not that big of a deal. “What the hell were you thinking?” Trevor all but shouts. “Ava, I’ve been calling you nonstop. Where the hell is your phone?”

  I try to remember… I’d left it in the car. All day. My pulse spikes. “Oh, my God, is Mom—”

  “She’s fine, Ava, but that’s not the point! Do you know how worried I was? Do you know how many times I tried calling you? And you think you can just cut school for no reason? Do you know how expensive that school is? How hard I work to—”

  “I’m sorry!” I cry out, tears welling. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Sorry’s not really good enough—”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “It’s my fault,” Connor speaks up. “She fell asleep on the way to school, and I didn’t want to wake her so—”

  Corey interrupts him. “So you just didn’t bother going to school at all? Or not tell anyone where you were or what you were doing?”

  “Jesus, Ava!” Trevor yells. “Goddammit, you have that phone glued to your hand twenty-four-seven and all of a sudden it’s not—”

  “Stop!” I yell back. “Don’t take this away from me!” I swipe at the tears refusing to stop and look up at him. “Please,” I beg, my voice cracking, my heart breaking. “Today was the best day I’ve had since Mom got back, and I don’t want you or anyone else taking that away from me, okay? I said I was sorry. But I just wanted one day, Trevor. Just one day when I could act my age, when I could be careless and reckless and… God, I just wanted to be a seventeen-year-old girl spending time with a boy I love—”

  “You love me?” Connor cuts in.

  I drop my head in my hands, humiliated. I glare at Trevor, imploring him. “Can we just go? Please!”

  “Ava,” Trevor sighs out. “There has to be consequences…”

  “I know.” I stand and head for the front door. “And I’ll deal with them like I always do, but please… just enough, okay? I just…”

  “Hey,” Connor coos, wrapping me in his arms. “It’s okay.”

  Tears blur my vision when I look up at him. “I just…” I don’t want to go home, I admit only to myself. I don’t want to go home and live in the darkness now that I know what it’s like to breathe in the light. “I just have to go home.”

  Connor

  Dad waits until Trevor and Ava are out of the house and for sure out of earshot before speaking, his tone a lot calmer than Trevor’s. “Your coach called. You're suspended for a game, and they assured me that no matter what Ava says or does, this time it has to stick. They’re using you to set an example.”

  I nod, keep my gaze lowered. “That’s fair.”

  Dad sighs. “Connor, if you want to tell me what happened, I’m happy to listen.”

  “Nothing,” I say, looking at him for the first time since I entered the house. “I picked her up this morning, and she mentioned she hadn’t slept well because of her mom…”

  Dad nods, urging me to continue.

  “And by the time I got to school she was fast asleep, and I… I don’t know, I felt bad waking her, so I just kept driving.”

  “What did you guys do all day?”

  Shrugging, I give him the truth. “I ended up parking near a lake, I guess, and we just spent the day… just…”

  “Being teenagers?” Dad asks, a compassionate smile tugging on his lips.

  “Yeah,” I confirm through an exhale.

  “Well, I’m sure Ava needed that,” he says, sympathetic.

  “She did. She does.”

  Dad stands, stretches, then starts pacing the living room like Trevor did. I’d ask if we’re done here, but I know him… there’s more. I just don’t know which way he’s going to flip it. He sits back down at the spot he left only seconds ago, his elbows on his knees. “You have to start thinking long term here, Connor.”

  I almost fail at hiding my eye-roll. “I know. The end game. I get it, Dad.”

  He shakes his head, rubs his chin. “It’s more than that now,” he explains. “If you care about Ava like you seem to and you want a future with her, you need to think about more than just now. And while now is good for you guys, great even, you need to think about the future. Because if you want her in your life for more than now, you have to find a way to take care of not only her but her mother… because that girl—she’s never going to leave her mom. And as much as she loves you, she loves her mom more, which she should.” He pauses a moment, before asking, “So how are you planning on doing that, Connor? Taking care of both of them emotionally and financially?”

  My head spins while I replay every one of his words, over and over. I think ab
out what I want in my life, in my future, and the only thing I see is Ava. “I go pro,” I declare. “I have to.”

  He nods. “So, what you do now is going to determine what happens tomorrow. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stands. “Right now, your focus is what?”

  I release the only truth that makes sense. “Basketball.”

  Ava

  Krystal offers to stay so Trevor and I can “chat.” Luckily, he’s calmed down enough to have an actual conversation with me. In my room, he sits on my desk chair while I sit on the bed, my fingers gripping the edge of the mattress.

  “I understand why you did what you did today, Ava. And I’m sorry I blew up on you like that. I was worried, but I get it. You deserve that time… but you can’t be bringing Connor down with you.”

  “Down with me?” I ask, looking him right in the eyes. “I didn’t put a gun to his head—”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he sighs out. “What I mean is I know that school. I know the athletic program. He skips class, and it’s an automatic one-game suspension.”

  “I’ll write another letter.”

  “Ava, you’re missing the point,” he pushes. “Look, that school is lenient with you because of your circumstances. You skip a class here and there, and they allow it. You fall asleep in class, and they send you to the nurse’s office so you can sleep some more, but… Ava, it’s such a pivotal time in Connor’s life right now. He has college scouts and coaches watching his every move on and off the court. What he does off the court is a representation of his character, not his skill, and his character is just as important to them as his contribution to the scoreboard or whatever—” Trevor shakes his head. “Basketball is dumb, but you understand, right?”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I say, and I do. Truly. I should’ve made him go back. I should have explained to his coach what happened and fought for him instead of being selfish and only thinking about what I wanted. What I needed. Him.

  Trevor scratches his cheek, then his head, then his chest, his tell-tale sign of nerves. “So… you… you love him, huh?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, watching my legs kick back and forth. “I think so.”

  “You think so, or you know so?”

  “I don’t know, Trevor,” I whine. “I have all these thoughts and emotions, and I don’t know what to do with them, and I have no one to talk to about them.”

  He nods, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths. Then he swallows. “Like… like… sex thoughts and emotions?” he asks, his voice wavering at the end.

  I look to the side. “Maybe.”

  He’s silent a beat, and then another beat, and a whole damn song could play in the time it takes him to react. “Right.” I watch him press his lips together, then get to his feet. He jumps up and down on the spot, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head side to side as if he’s gearing up for something. “I got this,” he whispers… to himself.

  My eyes narrow as I watch him, confusion clouding my brain.

  “I got this,” he says again and then flops back down on the chair.

  “Ava,” he deadpans.

  I eye him sideways. “Trevor?”

  “When a man ejaculates—”

  “Oh, my God, NO!” I throw my pillow at his head. “Get out!”

  Chapter 41

  Ava

  “I’m not hungry,” Mom says, her tone flat as she stares at the wall. It’s the fifth day in a row she’s refusing to eat breakfast, and I really don’t know why I bother getting up when I do.

  I cower when I drop the spatula and pan in the sink louder than expected. The last thing I want is to wake Trevor. “You have to eat, Mama,” I say, turning to her. “Krystal says you haven’t been eating much throughout the day.” And she’s losing weight, fast. I can see it in the hollow of her cheeks and the way her clothes seem to droop against her body. There are dark circles around her eyes from her lack of decent sleep. The doctors had prescribed some sleep meds for her, but she wakes up foggy and out of sorts and her reaction to that is far worse than the constant waking throughout the night. I try to assure myself that it’s just a phase and that as soon as they work out the right cocktail of medications to help her both physically and emotionally, we’ll be able to move on. I might even get a positive day out of her at some point.

  Mom sighs heavily, pushing away the plate I’d just made up for her. “Where are my cigarettes?”

  “You don’t smoke, Mama.”

  Her gaze flits to mine before going back to the wall. “Buy me cigarettes on your way home from school, okay?”

  “I can’t,” I tell her, trying to keep my composure. But inside me, something is ticking, ticking, ticking. “I’m not old enough.”

  She blinks. Slowly. “Then I’ll have William get them.”

  “William—” I exhale, my hands at my sides. I need to calm down. My getting frustrated will just set her off. “William doesn’t live with us anymore.”

  Another slow blink, and then the tiniest hint of a smile. “He’ll be back.”

  I should tell her that he won’t. That he’s remarried. That he has a new wife and new stepkids and that all of this was too much for him. That it might be too much for me, too. “Can I make you something else to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “But you should at least try to get something in your stomach, Mama.”

  “Where are my cigarettes?”

  My head drops forward, my shoulders lifting with the force of my inhale. I squat down beside her, hold her hand in mine. And then I push down the knot in my throat, kiss the scars that created this stranger. “I’ll get them on the way home from school, okay?”

  Connor

  I knock on the door of Coach’s office and wait for him to look up from whatever he’s reading. When he does, his eyes widen, and he looks at his watch. “You’re going to be late to first period.”

  “I know,” I say. “I was hoping to talk to you in private.”

  He settles back in his chair, his arms crossed. “If it’s about the suspension—”

  “It’s not,” I interrupt. “I know what I did, and the punishment stands.”

  Nodding, he motions to a seat on the other side of the desk. “Let’s talk.”

  Nervous energy swarms through my bloodline as I take a seat, my knees bouncing.

  “What’s got you on edge?” he asks, eyeing me.

  “Nothing.” I lie. “Well, yeah. Something.”

  “Spit it out, kid.”

  “I need your help,” I rush out. “I mean, I’d like some extra help. Please. Whatever you can offer me. I need to start focusing more on basketball, or else…” I take a breath. “I’m not getting any offers, Coach, and I need to do something about it.”

  He laughs once, closing the newspaper in front of him. He trashes it under his desk, then opens his drawer, pulling out a pile of envelopes three inches thick. “These are letters of interest,” he deadpans.

  My eyes widen. “For me?”

  He chuckles, killing any form of hope I’d momentarily allowed. “You heard of Graham Sears?”

  I nod. “Spurs, right?”

  “Yep. He was one of mine junior and senior year. An import, like you. These are the letters he garnered during those two years. You want to see yours?”

  I nod.

  He reaches into his drawer and pulls out air. He pretends to drop it on the desk. “That’s your pile.”

  Discouraged, I look down at my hands.

  “Sears was taken third to last in the NBA draft, Connor, and that’s the amount of interest he had. So, if you want just a taste of what he had, you better get ready to work.”

  I look up at him. “I’m here for it, Coach.”

  “Good,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You know what the main difference is between you and Sears?”

  “He was better than me?”

  “No,” Coach says, adamant. “That’s the thing, Connor. He w
asn’t. But off the court, he was with his team, building relationships and team camaraderie. He treated his teammates like they were his brothers, and in turn, those men made him look better, made him stand out. So, if I were you, I’d start there.”

  I lift my chin. “Okay.”

  He picks up his phone, calls the office to excuse me from first period. Then he makes another call, and a moment later, his office is occupied by the entire coaching staff and a few trainers.

  All eyes are on me when Coach says, “Son, if we do this, we do this, you understand?”

  I nod, puff out my chest. “Yes, sir.”

  Ava

  Connor said he had to get to school extra early this morning, so Trevor ended up giving me a ride. I sit in my usual spot first period, my eyes glued to the door, my heart waiting for just a glimpse of what she desires the most. When the bell rings and he still hasn’t shown up, I send him a text.

  Ava: Where are you?

  “Psst,” Rhys hisses from behind me. “Connor said he was meeting with Coach after practice so he might be late, or not show up at all. He said he’ll see you at lunch.”

  Oh. I nod, put my phone away. “Is he in trouble?” I ask.

  Mr. McCallister calls out, “Connor’s not, but you two might be if you don’t stop talking.”

  Connor

  We spend all of first period going through a game plan that includes extra practices, one-on-one coaching with all the coaches. More gym time. More studying. More of everything. Coach even puts in a call to an old friend about getting me into a four-day invitational held by some big name pros around Thanksgiving. It would be a dream, but I’m not holding my breath.

  At the end of the period, Coach says, “Today, you have lunch with your team.”

  “I spend time with my girlfriend at lunch,” I tell him.