“I don’t know why, but you’ve completely sucked me into your world. Let me help you with whatever shit you’re dealing with.”
“If you can’t explain why, then maybe you’re just needing someone to save. I can assure you I’m not worth it.”
His lips crash to mine.
Unexpected.
So intense and raw.
I whimper against them as my internal war engages. My yearning for him wears me down in no time, and I open my mouth to his.
My palms are pressed against the leather seat while his strong hands shove through my hair and grab hold.
His tongue finds mine, and in this moment I feel like I’ve found everything that was ever missing in my life.
His body is shifting and leaning to get to mine across the seat. The way he’s trembling, and his urgent touch, reveal so much more than him lusting for the physical me.
Even with his vulnerability evident, it’s as if he’s trying to fuse us so I’ll discover his secrets, too. Grappling with my seatbelt, I set myself free and move against him.
My hands slip under the back of his t-shirt, my fingertips relishing in his hot skin and firm muscles. His exhale of throaty groans call me home, and my whimpers tell him I’m there, where I long to be.
I’m swimming in exhilaration beneath a glowing sun that’s heating my entire core. His mouth moves to my neck, and my dizzy head falls back.
“This …” I whisper. “I want this. I need you.”
Without warning, he releases me. He’s sitting up straight in the driver’s seat before I can take my next breath. As his fingers glide through his hair, he exhales loudly.
“What was I thinking?” he mumbles. Now having another one of my secrets exposed to him, I recoil.
“Obviously not the same thing as me.”
His fingers fist the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening.
“I have not a single doubt you are worth it, Avery, and although we’re the same more than you could imagine, there’s a significant way we’re different.
“It’s something I don’t have the power to change. For that reason, I can’t play with your emotions. I can never do what I just did again.”
He pulls back onto the highway and doesn’t look at me. I keep waiting for it to happen as I search for words to say.
It feels like the longest ride of my life and the most intense slap to my face. He parks in my driveway without asking if my parents are home, but I know they’re not. I’ve been left alone for hours in the evenings for as long as I can remember.
Alone, alone, alone …
Upon opening the truck door, I pause.
“The way I felt during that kiss is forever how I’ll remember it. I’ll lie to myself that it was the same for you because I refuse to let you break me, too.”
“Fuck, Avery. I’m so–” I slam the door and don’t look back.
Chapter Fifteen
Hayden
Joey came over … We’re in the woods, having just packed a bowl and smoked from the stash of weed he brought me. We’re chillin’ here, quietly zoned out and enjoying the high.
Well, he is. I’m still thinking about Avery. That kiss … I could swear I’ve heard lyrics in songs about how the guy can still taste her on his tongue or can taste her mouth, and that is not bullshit like I thought.
I can taste her, smell her, and feel her. She’s under my skin more than she ever was, and I screwed that all up and surely fucked with her head in the process.
Hell, she probably went inside her house and cut after I kissed her and then rejected her like that. Then again, she’d been telling me she’d leave me alone. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut and my hands off of her?
“Did you hear?” Joey asks. “About Blake Lewis and Avery Hollingsworth?”
“What about them?”
“They broke up. Rumor is he dumped her so he could screw chicks in Florida over spring break. He’s usually an asshole, but I say good for him. It’s no secret Avery’s a virgin. He put up with that for like two years.”
“It was a secret to me.”
“You don’t count. You’ve known them less than a year. I’ve put up with them since grade school, which is a lifetime too long since they think they’re better than everyone else.”
“Things aren’t always how they seem.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe they don’t think they’re better. Maybe it’s everyone else who thinks Blake and Avery are better.”
I take a glimpse at him, and he shakes his head. It throws his long brown bangs back to where they belong. His hair is not as dark as mine, and it’s shorter, too, except for those bangs he’s always slinging back.
“The pot is messing with your brain. I don’t think they’re better than me. Hell, I’d do the princess in a heartbeat. I’d love to pop that cherry.
“I wouldn’t even have to bend her over like I do the ugly chicks since she’s fucking gorgeous. I could stand to see her face.”
My hands clench to fists on my thighs. I picture hurting my friend real bad for talking about Avery that way, so I ease out a breath and close my eyes. I lay my head back against the bench, hoping he’ll take the cue to shut up.
He approached me on the first day of school, and I wasn’t surprised. I looked like a stoner and appeared rough like him. Our conversations were minimal for about a week.
I had a feeling he was weighing whether or not I’d be open to getting drugs from him, so I asked him about it one day.
Everyone thinks he’s this heavy dealer, which humors me. He’s not the brightest. He’d probably get busted if he dealt more than he does. He only sells it so he can get his share for free, and he really doesn’t deal to that many people.
When I moved here, I vowed not to have a single friend in this state, but he was funny and reminded me of my cousin Ricky from back home, who I’m tight with.
Like my cousin, Joey says whatever comes to mind without thinking first or giving a shit. What he spouted off about Avery is a good example.
Like I said, too, he’s not the smartest, so I knew he wouldn’t pry too much about my past. He’s been cool and someone to hang out with.
I hear rustling in the brush to my left. I raise my head about the time Avery comes into view. Her eyes are bugging out from the sight of us, and she’s holding a bucket.
“Holy shit, dreams do come true,” Joey says way too loudly.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry.” Just like that, she’s turning on her heels and scurrying away.
“Avery, wait.” I’m on my feet and running to the path to catch up with her. “Hey.”
“I’m sorry,” she says without turning around. She’s sexy in stretchy black pants that hug her ass, and her blond hair is in a high ponytail, swaying back and forth. I could stare at her backside forever, but I need her to turn around.
Grabbing her arm, I give her no choice. Soapy water sloshes out of her bucket. “It’s totally my fault. I smelled the pot but not much, so I thought you were already gone, and I didn’t hear you two talking.”
I press a hand over her rambling mouth to shut it.
“We weren’t talking when you walked up, so it’s not your fault. Now, can you remain still and quiet for a second?”
She nods, so I pull my hand away from her wet lips, and it makes me want to feel them against mine again.
I smirk. “What are you doing with the bucket?”
“I figured there was blood all over the bench from the last two times … you know. Anyway, I was going to clean it up.” She looks away and gnaws on her lip.
“That way it wouldn’t be a reminder for you. I swear I was never going to return here afterward.”
“Since Joey was coming over, I cleaned it up.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
“That we’re neighbors. That you come back here sometimes. The truth, minus what’s none of his damn business.”
She braves a glance at me.
&nb
sp; “Are you OK after yesterday?” I ask her. I’ll admit it; I’m stalling. I don’t want her to leave even though she has to.
“I’m fine,” she says with attitude.
“Do you want to come back and hang out later?”
“How dare you?” Dropping the bucket to the ground, she crosses her arms. “You said your peace yesterday. We’re too different, or whatever.
“Personally, I call it reverse snobbery. I’ll leave your money in your mailbox as soon as I have it.” She swipes the bucket from the ground and stomps off while I process what she said.
She believes I shut down what was happening between us because of our different social circles at school. Hell, Joey and I don’t even make up a circle.
It would be odd to everyone if we were dating, but I don’t give a shit what other people think about me. That’s not the reason, but I can’t tell her what is.
I cross back into the clearing, and Joey grins. It’s that sly, broad kind that says “you’re so busted, mother fucker.”
“She’s my neighbor. She hangs out here sometimes and didn’t know we were back here.”
“Liar. I couldn’t hear what you were saying, but as long as you were gone, I’m guessing there’s more to it than that.”
“Neighbors, and we’ve talked some.”
“It does make sense that she lives in this snooty neighborhood. What was she doing carrying a bucket?”
“She was going to clean the benches since she sits on them.”
“Such a chick move. Figures Avery Hollingsworth wouldn’t allow her tight ass on a dirty bench. I got something dirty she can sit on. You should totally tap that.” His eyes widen. “She’s single, dude. Go after her.”
“Can we talk about something else? Better yet, let’s go eat something.”
“Alright, man, but you need to consider what I said.”
If he only knew how often I think about touching Avery, but there’s more parts of her I crave. I keep witnessing her pain, but I’m itching to see what’s beneath it.
I’m screwed because as soon as she walked away today, I was chasing her down without a second thought.
But Arizona …
I can’t forget where I belong.
Chapter Sixteen
Avery
Spring break sucked. Well, every minute minus the times I relived that kiss. Hayden’s touch made me come alive without cutting. It was the endorphin dump I often crave.
I felt protected yet needed in that moment, grounded to this life more than I’ve ever been. Our bond is inexplicable but tangible none the less.
So the week alone without seeing or speaking to him was depressing. To add insult to injury, I had to watch my friends post vacation photos to social media daily, showing what fun they were having in Florida.
Now, I’m even more pathetic as I sit in my car at the back of the school parking lot. I’m waiting to watch Hayden ride in on his bike in his leather jacket, jeans and boots.
I want to watch him shake out his black hair after he removes his helmet. Then, he’ll tread inside, gripping it in his right hand while his left hangs loosely in his pocket.
Yep, I’ve fantasized about it many times over the last week, and I suspect I’m the only one at this school who’s aware that his outer bad boy persona shields a sweet, compassionate soul.
I hear the rumbling of the bike first before I get my wish. He’s a few rows in front of me and parking his bike before he does exactly what I envisioned.
I’m seeing him now because I’ll have to pretend he doesn’t exist every other time he’s near. Why did he have to be an asshole and kiss me? No, why did he have to kiss me and then be an asshole?
He claimed I sucked him in, but he did the same, and even though he didn’t intend to, he hurt me. I should’ve known he’d find it embarrassing to be seen with me at school.
He’s a loner who doesn’t wish to be judged by those who make it a habit of judging me, which is pretty much everyone at this school but him.
I pray college is nothing like high school. I don’t think I could survive four more years of this cliquey nonsense.
Once Hayden’s in the building, I walk inside. Madison practically knocks me down at my locker.
“I missed you so much!” she says with her arms wrapped around me. I smell the familiar shampoo she washes her long, lustrous hair with. “It’s such a bummer you couldn’t go. We had the best time.”
“I gathered that from the photos.”
She frowns and bites her nail. I notice that the caramel highlights weaved through her fishtail side braid are bolder today, and I imagine it’s from the sun they soaked up in Florida. She appears tanner, too.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“No, it’s OK. I’m sure everyone who went will be talking about it for a long time.” I shove some books I won’t need during my first few classes inside my locker. “So, how did Blake behave on the trip?”
She doesn’t reply, so I stop and look to her.
“He warned me not to talk about it, but you and I are best friends. I told him that wasn’t fair.”
“OK, so are you going to tell me or not?”
Stepping closer, she sighs.
“The first couple of days he moped. I’m sure it was over you. The guys started giving him crap about it, so he perked up after that and drank way too much alcohol the whole rest of the week.
“He hung out and flirted with a bunch of girls, but if he hooked up with anyone, he hid it from me.”
“Why were you afraid to tell me that?”
“I figured it would still be hard to hear. You and I haven’t had time to talk about the breakup. He said you took it well, but I knew better.”
Zipping up my book bag, I slam my locker door and shrug.
“Actually, I thought it was for the best. I care about him, but we don’t love each other anymore, and we’re going to different colleges. It was time.”
As her petite frame stands before me, she studies me with her hands shoved inside the back pockets of her jeans.
“OK … if you say so.”
“Seriously, it’s all good.” I smile at her. “Let’s get to our classes.” Madison and I go our separate ways. I step into Mr. Bradford’s classroom, and as soon as I spot my empty seat, the panic pummels me.
Where am I supposed to sit?
Blake is already in the seat behind mine. I look past him and eye Hayden in the back row but only for a split-second. It was long enough to see him gazing at me.
Maybe Blake recognizes my panic coming on because he nods and tilts his pen in front of him, gesturing toward my seat.
Thank goodness we’re going to try this friend thing. Maybe students at this school won’t make a big deal out of us breaking up if they see we’re still hanging out together.
“Hi,” I mumble before I slide into my seat. He doesn’t respond, but my back is already to him, so I don’t expect it. I doubt he’s going to be leaning over anymore to whisper in my ear, and I’m fine with that, too.
Mr. Bradford strolls in and drops his leather messenger bag on his desk. He pulls out a stack of papers and begins walking around the room.
He isn’t speaking or making eye contact with anyone as he hands them out. Is this one of his manipulative stunts? Is he hoping I’ll assume that his foul mood is directed toward me?
The class is quiet, and I imagine it’s because he hasn’t said a word, which is abnormal for him. He reaches my desk, so I swallow. Towering over me, he freezes. One second, two, three, four. Shit.
“Avery Hollingsworth … I heard a rumor that you had the chicken pox over spring break, yet you don’t seem to have any of those little red scars,” he says loudly for the entire class to hear.
“False alarm. I, uh, had some sort of reaction to new laundry detergent.”
“Interesting.”
“Yep.” I peek up at him and hold my hand out to take my quiz. He’s projecting his intimidating glare, so I give him a
snide smile to relay that I won this round.
Hayden knows my secret, and having even one person rallying around me in this room makes all the difference.
Mr. Bradford goes over each problem from our pop quiz on the dry erase board. I got an 88%, which will at least give me an 82% now on my previous exam.
It hits me that he’s the sole reason I’m doing poorly in this class because instead of focusing on the problems he’s working out for us on the board, I’m only thinking about his perverse ways.
It’s been like this each class since he started showing interest in me in January, almost immediately after our semester began. That’s when my cutting increased in frequency, too.
The bell rings, and when I stupidly glance to my teacher, he crooks his finger and bends it toward him a couple of times, instructing me to approach his desk.
“Yes,” I say with disinterest once I’m standing in front of it.
He shuffles papers around as students file out into the hallway. I catch sight of someone pausing at the door, so I glance over.
It’s Hayden, and his eyes are bouncing between Mr. Bradford and me. The longer he stares, the dramatic rise and fall of his chest become visible.
Not wanting our teacher to notice, I ever so slightly shake my head no, praying he’ll leave the room.
Students will be entering for the next class, so I’m sure Mr. Bradford won’t touch me. Hayden grimaces and steps out of the classroom.
“Sign here,” Mr. Bradford says as he points to the top line of an unanswered test. I skim over it, and it’s one I don’t recognize.
“Why?”
“Do it, Avery, and don’t ask questions. The stunt you pulled last week isn’t happening again. If you don’t sign this, I’m emailing your father and telling him you missed your tutoring sessions last week.”
Rolling my eyes, I scribble Avery Hollingsworth on the name line of the test.
“Whatever. I don’t know why you want me to sign this.”
“Now, here is my address.” He hands me a slip of paper. “Be there at four tomorrow afternoon. If you don’t show up, you’re going to fail this next exam.” He sneers and holds up the one in his hand. “This exam actually. I mean, it does have your name on it.”
The Scars Keeper Page 10