Dear Ava
Page 17
“Is he seeing Camilla?” I ask. I can’t recall ever hearing they were a thing, but then, I’m not in the know anymore.
Wyatt shakes his head. “He doesn’t date anyone.” The first bell rings. “Come on, let’s head to the assembly in the gym.”
I start. “No class?” I battle down the disappointment of not getting to sit next to Knox for an hour. I’ve said I’m going to forget him, and I totally should, of course, because that’s what a normal person should do…
So why do I feel this deep emptiness inside when I think about our conversation in the auditorium?
Why is he still fighting his teammates over me?
“Yeah, they announced it Friday at the end of the day. A few college recruiters will be in the gym, mostly Ivy Leagues like Harvard, Yale, yada, yada. You’ve really been spacey lately. I didn’t see you around much this weekend.”
I frown. I’m not surprised I missed the announcements. I’m usually anxious to get out of here at the end of the day.
“Worked two shifts at Lou’s and hung out with Tyler.” The group home sponsored a garage sale this weekend, and I helped out with that too.
A voice comes over the speakers telling us to go to the gym, and we head that way. Along the way, a group of Sharks jostle around us, and Wyatt takes my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
Half an hour later, I’d made the rounds with a few of the local state universities who’ve set up tables, grabbing brochures and talking. Several of them are promising, and likely where I’ll end up. I avoid the Vandy table, but I can’t keep myself from gazing at it longingly. Blowing out my breath, I look around the room. Piper’s deep in conversation with someone from UT, and Wyatt mentioned he was going to check out the baseball rep from one of the colleges. Jagger’s next to him, and I don’t have the heart to bother them.
The bell for our next class rings, and it seems as if the assembly may go on for a while. I decide to head out and see if we’ll have class in second period. Walking out the gym doors, I exit down the steps into the blaring sunlight and take in the campus, the sprawling, elegant buildings and lush landscaping. Such a pretty place. “Too bad every single day is a freaking nightmare,” I mutter under my breath as I take the last step on the stairs—
Something hard whacks me in the back of the head from behind, solid and forceful, shoving me forward. I teeter, grasping for the handrail, but miss it. I yelp as my body falls, my legs folding as I careen down, knees landing on the concrete to keep my face from hitting first.
“Cunt,” a male voice says from behind me, and before I can twist around from my prone position or catch my breath, he puts his foot on my back, pressing me back down. “That’s where you belong, bitch, at my feet—and don’t you forget it.” His voice is low and growly and tense, laced with anger.
“Stop!” I yell, and the pressure disappears from my back.
He mumbles a curse and runs.
I cover my head and whimper as darkness tugs at me, and I’m in the woods again, those dark trees rubbing their ghostly fingers together, hard sticks and cold leaves under me, and I can’t move, can’t move, can’t move, and he’s on top of me, and I can’t breathe, can’t see his face, can’t stop him, can’t talk, can’t do anything and I want to make him stop, please, please, please, please—
“Ava! What the hell?”
Someone bends down to me, firm hands touching my arm and trying to turn me over. I shove them off, slapping at his fingers as I gasp for air. My stomach jumps and I let out a long wail. Shuddering, I suck in a breath and try to hold myself together.
You aren’t in the woods. You aren’t.
Don’t cry, Ava. Not here. You haven’t yet, and you never will!
I swallow down the emotions and roll over to my back, biting back pain that ricochets through my head.
“I’m…fine,” I finally push out.
“No, your knees are bloody. What happened? Did you fall?”
I blink up at Dane and flinch away from him, scooting to the side, but I only end up scratching my elbows more on the ground as white-hot pricks tingle up my arms.
“Someone hit me on the back of my head—” My voice hitches as I scramble farther from him and manage to get in a sitting position, rocking back and forth as I wrap my arms around myself. Deep breaths rush out of me. I dip my head to my chest. Inhale. Exhale.
“Who was it?” he barks out. “Tell me and I’ll find him!”
“For all I know, it was you,” I whisper.
“Oh, Ava.” He bends down and sits in front of me, staying a few feet away as if he knows any little thing will set me off. A long sigh comes from him. “I was in the restroom in the main building and just came out to hit the assembly then heard you yelling.” His gaze skates over me with a frown, and he reaches out. “Come on, let me see your head.”
“No!” I hit him on the arm with my fist.
He takes the first hit without even a twitch, but he catches my fist in his palm when I go for his throat.
“Ava, come on, sweetheart, just let me help you.”
“Leave me alone,” I manage to say, but that anxiety is rushing back, and my head spins, dizziness slamming into me as I try to stand up. Black dots dance in front of my face. I sway on my feet and his arms come around me and lift me up; I wiggle to get away. Ugh! I don’t want his help.
“Look, you’re upset. I’m taking you to the nurse’s office,” he says, his face tight with suppressed emotion. “You can tell them what happened and it’ll be alright. Things will be okay, I promise, I promise, I promise. Just take one day at a damn time. That’s what I do.”
Maybe it’s the tinge of despair in his voice that makes me stop squirming, or maybe it’s the careful way he holds me; either way, I ease up. I need a minute and it’s obvious he isn’t going to cart me away to some hidden place as he makes his way to the double doors of the main building.
“Hang on a sec. I need to…” I feel him adjusting me as he pushes the handicap button to open the entrance. My head rests against his arm, and he smells like fresh pine and spice. Looking up, I stare up at him, recalling our confrontation on the third floor last week, him telling me about his mom, how broken his words were. His face is more haggard than it was several days ago, cheeks hollow, the skin under his eyes bluish. His nose is red and swollen…
“Move out of the way, peons,” he says sharply as he stalks down the hall, and I hear the rumble of the underclassmen as they go to second period.
Someone jostles into my feet, and I wince as they mumble an apology and scoot away hurriedly.
“Don’t touch her, assholes!” he yells, sending a scathing look to whoever it was.
He’s halfway to the office when I tug on his sleeve.
He looks down at me, brow wrinkling. “Better?”
No. My head throbs and my knees buzz like bee stings from the cuts. “Wipe your nose before we go in. You’ve got some, um, white powder—”
He lifts me closer to his face as he leans his head over and uses his sleeve to wipe his nose. “Caught by the charity case. Don’t tell Knox, ’kay? Our secret?” He gives me a pleading look then shuts his eyes briefly. “Ava, I’m a dick, okay, a giant fucking asshole, but you know I didn’t hit you out there. And I’m sorry I gave you grief your first day here. It wasn’t about you—it was about me.” He chews on his bottom lip hard, like Knox does, and he looks so much like his brother.
I sigh. “Just let me down, okay? I can walk.”
His arms tighten around me. “You had a panic attack then almost passed out. You tried to beat me up, pathetic attempt that it was. Plus, Knox would want me to take care of you.”
I grunt. “I used to think you two weren’t anything alike, but you’re both stubborn.”
He arches a brow. “I’m the charming one. He’s the heavy.”
“Good heavens!” Mrs. Carmichael exclaims as Dane saunters into the office with me like he does it every day. “What happened?�
� She leads the way to the hallway to the left that connects to the nurse’s station.
“Someone jumped her outside the gym. Hit her on the head,” Dane mutters darkly. He eases me down and she promptly makes me sit on a cot then proceeds to hammer me with questions while yelling for the nurse. I haltingly explain what happened. She frowns and dashes off, mumbling about an incident report.
A nurse comes over with a penlight and checks my eyes, tells me I don’t have a concussion, just a small lump on my head. Dane lingers, taking a seat in the corner to watch me.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Carmichael is back and hands me a folder. “Just fill these out when you can, and the headmaster will probably want to see you later.” She looks over at Dane. “You need to get back to class.”
He gives her a wide grin, eyes a little spacey. “Ah, Maxine, come on, I’m the hero here—let me make sure she’s okay.”
She puts her hands on her hips.
He grins. “Just let me hang out for five minutes, cool?”
She huffs but seems to decide to ignore him and look at me. “Dear, is there someone I can call to check you out?”
I huff out a laugh. Someone to call?
“I’m eighteen. I can check myself out.”
“Of course. Sorry. I thought you might want to go to the clinic in town,” she offers.
I don’t need those bills, and I’ve had worse. “I just need some Band-Aids for the cuts on my knees.” I flash my elbows where my shirt is torn and grimace. “These too, I guess.”
The nurse is already swabbing them with alcohol and heading to a set of white drawers to pull out bandages.
Mrs. Carmichael frowns and gives me a nod then looks at the nurse. “Fine. Just rest here until you feel like going to class.”
Eventually, the nurse leaves me and I stretch out on the cot, a long exhalation leaving my chest. My socks were torn in the fall, and I glare down at them. I really need more uniforms.
“Why are you still here?” I say to Dane as he taps on his phone. “I’m fine now. No one’s going to bother me back here.”
He glances up at me. “Do you really want me to leave?”
No.
“Suit yourself,” I mutter and flip over, yanking on the thin covers the nurse left. Facing the wall, I close my eyes and allow myself to crack, just a little, biting my lip and holding back the tears that haven’t stopped wanting to come out. Now that it’s quiet, the event replays in my head, leftover adrenaline and anger rushing through my veins at how helpless I was. Again.
Somehow I fall asleep, my body slowly relaxing to the everyday sounds of Mrs. Carmichael talking on the phone in the next room and the noise of teachers walking down the corridor to their break room. Later, I wake to voices speaking in hushed tones several feet away.
I ease over and see Dane and Knox, their heads close, and I hear my name.
“Whoever it was, they whacked her good,” Dane mutters. “She was on the fucking ground, brother. Somebody hurt her here right under our noses—”
“You’re awake,” Knox says, striding over to me. “You okay?”
I sit up, gripping the edge of the cot and wincing at the brief bite of pain from moving so fast. “Fresh as a daisy.”
“Liar,” he mutters and rubs his hand over the back of my head, barely ghosting over the lump there. I freeze, wanting to arch into him, hating that I enjoy the attention from him. “Still hurting?” He bends down to me, and it almost seems as if he might touch my face, but he doesn’t, letting his hand fall.
“The nurse gave me Aleve and Band-Aids. I’m ready for battle, Cold and Evil.”
“Not an answer,” he says softly.
Dane watches us, a wary look on his face.
Knox glances over at him. “He’s been here for a few hours. I was in Trask’s office and didn’t know what happened until Dane texted me.”
A long sigh leaves me. “Did you get in trouble for fighting?”
His lips tighten, a dark expression on his face. “No. He’s going to let Coach take care of it. I’ll be running sprints tonight after practice. Brandon won’t be calling you names anymore.”
I frown. “I don’t want you fighting my battles. Don’t do it again.”
He sighs. “Can’t seem to stop, Tulip. Now, who do I need to take down for this?”
His voice is cool and calm, but I hear the steel underneath.
“I didn’t see his face. He hit me, not with his fist, I think. It was too solid and big, maybe a textbook, then he put his foot on my back, called me a few names.” I swallow down the fear. That voice. It was the guy from the woods.
“Motherfucker.”
“Yep.” I push to stand and take a big breath. “What period is it?”
“Lunch. Where are you going?” he says as I walk around the room, spying my backpack that someone must have dropped off. Grabbing my blazer that’s lying on top, I slip it on, wincing but glad it hides the holes in my shirt. I lean down and swing my backpack up and over my shoulder. My fingers linger over my locket for a moment and my spine straightens.
“Ava?” Knox has moved and is standing next to me. “Maybe you should head to the dorms and rest. If you want me to drive you, I’m sure Maxine will—”
No.
He doesn’t want to kiss me.
We can’t do this, he said.
“I’m fine.” I brush past him, walk over to Dane, and stare up at him. A faint smile tugs at my lips. “Next time, I’ll hit you harder, asshole.”
He smirks. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I need to teach you how to hit, sweetheart.”
“Meh, I was holding back,” I say. My efforts to fight him were half-hearted. Even as upset as I was, I recognized that it wasn’t Dane’s voice who said those words to me.
He scrubs his face and gives me a little grimace as if to remind me—Remember what you saw on my nose? Can you just forget that?
I send him a shrug. Maybe.
He rolls his eyes.
I think back to those words he said while carrying me: Things will be okay, I promise, I promise, I promise.
Yeah, someday it fucking will be okay. Not today, but soon. The guy from the woods lashed out at me, which means he’s getting careless, and if he’s getting careless, he’s scared…
“Don’t tell me you’re actually going back to class?” Knox says as he crosses his arms.
“Why wouldn’t I? Just another day here.”
He exhales. “Ava, come on, let me take you home.”
Home? I don’t really have one.
Ava? I want him to call me Tulip, dammit.
“I agree,” Dane adds. “You’re pale.”
Huffing out a laugh, I throw him an Are you serious? glance. Has he looked in the mirror lately?
Dane laughs and shakes his head as if he reads my mind.
“Ava, I don’t think you should go to class. You need to rest.” Knox again. His jaw pops and he reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb brushing over the top of my hand.
And there it is, just a tiny touch from him and electric tingles dance up my arms and over my body. I look down at our hands.
He’s worried.
He keeps fighting my battles when he clearly has his own.
His gray eyes cling to mine. “Please.”
My body clenches at the mere sound of his voice. I want him so much, yet it’s so much more than simple lust or desire; it’s deeper and stronger and crazy and how have I let him scale my fortress?
He wants me, and he fights it.
I don’t want to think about the whys of it.
I lick my dry lips, and it takes everything inside me to pull my hand out of his grasp.
This is my journey, not his.
I walk out of the nurse’s station and head to lunch.
16
Love dies.
Then you’re at the end of my kaleidoscope,
Broken, bright shiny pieces.
Obviously, you can’t love me.
And neither should I.
Ava? You there?
I stare down at my phone. It’s been several days since I heard from him, and I can’t stop the curl of excitement in my chest.
Another poem? Wow, you’re really into this class. Same author? I ask.
Yep.
Funny. I googled that last one you sent, and it never came up anywhere. The internet is a pretty amazing tool. Wanna tell me who wrote it?
He doesn’t respond for several moments, so I open a bag of Doritos and chomp down on a few. I’m grinning around my munches, imagining SA squirming. I can’t help but think about Knox, holding his phone somewhere, typing. Maybe he’s at home. Maybe he’s in his car and had to pull over because he can’t stop thinking about me.
I scrunch up my face. I wish.
I was too embarrassed to admit I wrote them.
Oh, it’s getting good now.
Yeah, the jock who writes poetry. For me, I assume? I send.
YOU.
They’re pretty nice.
I scroll up, read the poem again and type, So you’ve never been in love? You said it dies.
My parents didn’t even want to be in the same room as each other. He loved her one day and she loved him, then they both changed.
SA is a bit of a pessimist.
Another text comes in. I care for my brother. He’s all I care about. Who have you been in love with?
I sit up straighter in bed. Knox cares for his brother.
Ava, tell me—who have you loved?
Gah, we’re getting personal, and part of me can’t resist it. It’s a place to pretend we might just have something special, and I want to trust SA; I do. His poetry is revealing…