She nodded thoughtfully. “Alright.”
“Alright what?” One mason jar in and she already wasn’t making any sense. For booze that came in a box she was certainly getting more than her money’s worth.
“Alright you can stay here. I was going to say no because I thought you were just running away, trying to avoid your problems, but if this is something you need to do, take a little trip down memory lane to face your past so you can get to your future, then okay.”
Oh the fucking irony of that statement. If one more addict wanted to dole out advice on how I could deal with my issues, I’d probably flip my shit completely.
“Gee, thanks. I’m glad I was able to sway you. Not that my old room isn’t the first place that comes to mind when I think comfy and cozy hideaway, what with all the creepy pre-pubescent boys plastered on the walls now, but no, I didn’t come here to hide out.”
She stood up from the couch. “Listen, you’re going to need to do something about this pissy mood you’re in or your visit isn’t going to be much fun for me.” She smirked. “Now drink up, you’re already falling behind.”
I watched her amble off into the kitchen to refill her glass, then peered over at my own which was still filled three quarters of the way. It wasn’t the first time I was envious of her ability to drink herself to her happy place. Unfortunately, alcohol had been the problem in my life for far too long to ever be the solution.
After an hour of sipping on the same glass of wine, I finally found a way to make a graceful exit when Timmy showed up. We said a brief hello while my mother went to grab him a beer and then I slid out of the room into the hall. I was up the stairs before my mother even noticed I was gone.
Of course, attempting to relax in my old room while there was still daylight was pretty much pointless. Harry and I were mid stare down when I decided he wasn’t my intended target. Two seconds later and I had the phone to my ear listening to the ringtone.
“Yellow.”
“Hey Addy. Harry says what’s up.”
“Eda.” She’d been calling me that for the last seventeen years. Apparently she still couldn’t pronounce her A’s and V’s. “You better not be messing with my stuff!”
“Your stuff? What the fuck happened to MY stuff?” Not that I wanted any of it. I was strictly inquiring on principal.
“I dunno. Check the attic. I just threw it all in boxes. No clue what Mom did with it after.” Probably threw it out. “Meanwhile, what are you doing home anyway?”
I dug through one of my bags until I found a bright red lipstick which I promptly began to apply to Harry. “Just visiting.”
“What does that even mean? You live like twenty minutes from there. Why do you need to stay for an overnight visit?”
I mumbled an ‘I don’t know’ without ever opening my mouth which sounded a lot like ‘m-m-mm’ and moved on to the other boys with my lipstick.
“Does this have something to do with those pics I saw of you and Blaise on some fucking beach? Are you guys like a thing now? Because that would be seriously weird.”
She caught me so off guard with her statement, I accidentally drew a red line straight across this poor kid’s face. Niall I think was his name. I’d remembered it because I’d thought it was short for ‘In denial’. And I meant that in general. Anyone who smiled that much was clearly in denial over something…if not everything. Anyway, to make it up to him, I used my finger to smudge it out and make it look like he had some color in those cheeks. He needed it. I was doing him a favor.
“Listen chicklet, there is nothing weird about Blaise and I being a thing. And when you grow up a little and stop fawning over boys who sound like they’re still waiting for their balls to drop, I’ll tell you all about it. In the meantime, stop stalking me in the check-out line at Wal-Mart. Those magazines are all photo-shopped and fictional.” I ended my rant by drawing a mustache on the final dude and I was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever had one.
“I’m confused.” And she sounded it. “Are you and Blaise together or not?”
“Yeah, I’m confused about that, too.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
I sighed. “I know. Let’s talk about something else. Like what it’s going to take to get you to broaden your musical horizons.”
She laughed. “What, like I need to listen to Finding Nolan more? Just because I don’t hang posters of the boy next door up on my wall, doesn’t mean I don’t dig their music.”
“Nobody is asking you to hang up posters of Blaise. THAT would be weird.”
“Agreed. You know what wouldn’t be though? If you hooked me up with some life size images of Angel. I wouldn’t mind using his face for wall paper. Or his abs.”
“Addy!”
“What? You just said I needed to stop fawning over boys. Pretty sure Angel qualifies as a man.” The fact that she was giggling like a pre-teen girl already had me rethinking that statement.
“Yeah…well, you’re not ready for Angel. More importantly, Angel’s not ready for you.”
I mean, I loved Angel, but he was a fucking manwhore if there ever was one. Not exactly the type of guy I wanted my baby sister gushing over. Even from a distance.
***
It had been a solid week since anyone had heard from Ava. Royce and I had agreed to treat her absence as time off for personal reasons and had said as much to the others. We still had Francis and she was more than capable of covering for Ava for the time being. So there was no need to make it anything more permanent than that just yet. Hopefully ever.
Even though Royce had mentioned it almost just as frequently as Ava, I still hadn’t come clean to Derek and Angel about my past recreational interests, however I had been meeting with a substance abuse counselor on a daily basis. The sessions were via Skype with this chick doc who called herself Doctor Rae. And I went with that since her last name included a slew of astrological elements which made me want to break into an Earth, Wind & Fire song every time I saw it pop up on my screen. To be perfectly honest I wasn’t entirely convinced that she was an actual doctor, but Royce had hooked it up and I wasn’t exactly in a position to make extra demands since I was running low on friends as it was.
“How are you this evening, Blaise?”
I was good. Which I would tell her just as soon as I could stop staring at the strange feathered headdress she was wearing pinned to the side of her head.
“Fine, thanks.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Partially because I was trying to determine if the bird was still attached. “How are you?”
“I’m wonderful, thanks so much for asking. Let’s get right to it, shall we?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Tonight’s session is going to be a quick one. I want you to think back about the last time you truly felt like you were of value. I want you to think about what you were doing. Who you were with and what it was about that moment that made you feel so significant.”
I opened my mouth automatically, certain I would bullshit my way through her question just like I’d been doing from the start, only nothing came out.
“It’s okay if you don’t have an answer yet, Blaise. I’d rather you take the time to really feel it out. Then, when you discover what it was, I want you to find a way to duplicate it. It doesn’t have to be a repeat of the first experience, but in some small way I want you to find a way to establish that same feeling once a day.”
I nodded. Not because I was agreeing with her. Mostly I was just being polite.
“Alright, well, it’s a full moon tonight, so I’m going to go burn some stuff. Do some clearings. I recommend you find a process of your own choosing to do the same.”
As usual she ended our session by calling on the angels and ascended masters, none of which I was familiar with, but all of whom she seemed to know on a first name basis. Then she wished me well and sent me on my way.
Next, as was quickly becoming part of the routine, I pulled out my cell and ca
lled Royce.
“What the fuck, dude? Tonight that little pyromaniac told me to go out and burn shit. What does that even mean?”
“Oh, it’s a full moon, so yeah.” It was making me nuts how matter of fact he always was in his responses.
“Don’t even. Don’t make it sound like it’s so fucking obvious! It’s not.” I was walking through my house in the dark, headed nowhere in particular. I just hadn’t ever been good at sitting still. “Just tell me, did you find Doctor Rae through some Psychic Hotline?”
He laughed. “No asshole, she’s my aunt. Well, my ex-aunt. By marriage. Whatever, she knows her shit. Just go with it.”
“So you want me to burn stuff, too?” I flipped on the lights and found myself standing right in front of my fireplace. Maybe they were onto something.
“Whatever floats your boat, man. Just keep that shit contained. Remember, I’m right next door. And I like all my stuff.”
I hung up and started to scan the room for things I might want to see go up in flames. At first everything fell into that category, then one by one I sorted them all back out. Burning stuff just wasn’t my thing. Music was.
So, I did what I did best and sat down at my piano. I played. I wrote. I sang. For hours. Until everything coming out of me was somehow tied to Ava and the unbearable pain of losing her. It had been flooding in on me ever since the night she’d walked out, but I’d been quick to turn my back on it. Shut it out. Force myself to think of something meaningless like the fact that I was almost out of milk or how many push-ups I’d been able to do during my last work out. There was no facing Ava being gone. At least not until I was completely convinced that she wasn’t coming back. Because maybe by then I’d just be used to living without her already.
Sitting there, pounding my fingers into the piano’s innocent keys, there was no escaping the truth. I was fucking pissed. Pissed at Ava for leaving. Pissed at myself for pushing her that far. Pissed at my mother for killing herself and pissed at my father for pretending it didn’t happen. Most of all I was pissed that I’d let everything fuck me up so badly that in spite of having been able to live the most amazing life with the most spectacular woman right beside me the entire fucking way, there hadn’t been so much as a second of it that I’d truly enjoyed. Like I couldn’t let myself be happy for even a moment. Because I didn’t deserve it. Because I wasn’t of value. I wasn’t significant. I was shit. And the only people who didn’t know that were the ones who didn’t know me.
Chapter 17
Seven days in and staying at my mother’s was getting me nowhere. I was stuck. And worst of all, I missed Blaise. It wasn’t like I never intended to speak to him again. Of course I would. Although somewhere along the way it had occurred to me that perhaps I was taking for granted the fact that he would still want to speak to me by the time I finally came around. I’d done my best to dismiss the thought, but I’d noticed it had an annoying habit of reappearing, as of late, at an increasing rate.
It wasn’t that I was still mad at him. It was more out of pride. Like I hadn’t proven that I could live life on my own terms yet. Well, that was bullshit, really. I wasn’t calling him because I was scared. Scared that he couldn’t really get better and that I’d spend the rest of my life in love with a man who hated himself so much I’d never be able to fix what he continued to destroy.
It had been one thing, standing on the sidelines, but things were different now. He had made them different. He had insisted on pulling me in and now I was no longer cleaning up the wreckage of the aftermath, I was standing in the eye of the storm. And I knew it could rip me to shreds at any given moment. That kind of knowledge didn’t exactly make you feel those pleasant tingly sensations you were supposed to get when thinking of your sweet new piece of man candy.
Prepared to face another long day of doing absolutely nothing, I made my way down the stairs in search of coffee and something I could slap some Nutella on. When I reached the kitchen I was surprised to find Addison already sipping from a cup while digging through the pantry.
“Eda!” She practically yelled it. “Where the fuck is it? I know it’s here somewhere.”
I went for a mug and nodded toward the fridge. “Had to put it in there. Ants were getting in it.”
She dashed across the room to retrieve the hazelnut spread.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you getting your period or something? I mean, I love Nutella as much as the next girl, but you’re a bit frantic this morning, no?”
A look of shame washed over her as she sucked her finger clean of the chocolate. “I did something stupid last night.”
I’d barely had my first drink of coffee, but I was suddenly wide awake. Someone else doing something stupid would make for a nice change of pace. “What did you do?”
“Before I tell you, you have to promise not to get mad.”
Yeah right. “Nuh-uh.”
“I mean it, Eda. I can’t tell you unless I know you’ll keep your shit together.” She was going in to scoop out another finger full of Nutella. So much for having any for breakfast.
“Look, as long as you didn’t get arrested or kicked out of school, I’m not going to be pissed. Let’s face it. I’m in no position to pass judgment on anyone these days.” I opened a drawer and got a spoon. “Here. Eat that shit like a civilized person, would ya?”
Addison took the spoon, filled it and stuck it in her mouth. Then she mumbled, “I slept with my English professor.”
“I’m sorry, what now?” I hadn’t actually gone to college, but I was pretty sure that was not part of the curriculum.
“I went to see him after class to discuss my essay. It just sort of happened.” She quickly turned her back on me as she fled from the kitchen. Like the words wouldn’t be able to follow her from the room or something.
“Addy! That sort of thing does not sort of happen. Trust me. If it did, I would have had a lot more sex in the last five years.” Holy shit. Talk about an unpleasant realization. Why hadn’t I gotten laid more? Beside the point. I was getting off track.
“Yeah. Why haven’t you been seeing more action?” Clearly so was my sister.
“We are not discussing my sex life. We’re discussing yours. What is supposed to happen now? You just go back to class and act like nothing happened? How are you going to feel when he grades your next paper? Huh? Be a little hard not to wonder if he’s grading your English paper or last night’s performance, don’t you think?”
She made a face. “Well I hadn’t considered that until you said it! Thanks a lot, Eda!”
“Bottom line, Addy, sleeping with your professors is out. You want to hook up with chicks, sleep with the frat boys or bang your study buddy, knock yourself out. Just don’t fuck anyone who could end up fucking you, you dig?”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“Good. Now then, let’s go set you up with some quality tunes. The right music can guide you through life, you know?! I mean, a few choice lyrics and last night’s episode might never have happened.”
Addison followed me back up the stairs, Nutella still in hand. “Any chance you’re going to hook me up with that Angel poster we talked about? Because I’m thinking he could be all the guidance I need to keep me from sleeping with the wrong men.”
“Addy!”
“Just a thought.”
We spent the bulk of the morning goofing around and listening to every song I could think of that I deemed necessary for a proper music library. Then, when she took off to get to her afternoon classes, I wound up down in the living room channel surfing for the rest of the day.
It was late when I finally made my way back to my room, fully prepared to fall into bed and scratch off another day as completely wasted. Only as soon as I walked in I could tell something was off. Something was different. Or to be more accurate, something was suddenly the same.
Sitting on the nightstand underneath the window was an old tin soup can. The string attached to it was trailing all the way up to the windowsi
ll and out through the crack where the window had been left open.
Excitement rushed through me as I flew across the room. I lifted the cup to my lips.
“Hello?” Then placed it near my ear.
“I was starting to wonder if I’d ever hear from you.” Blaise.
I practically fell backwards onto my mattress. My ass landed on it with a hefty bounce. “What are you doing here?”
“The only thing that ever made me feel like I was worth anything. Trying to be a good friend to you.”
I lifted my head to glance out of the window. A dim light was on in the room across from mine. It wasn’t enough to make anything out.
“You didn’t have to come back here. You could have just called.”
“It wouldn’t have been the same. Besides. I think we both know you wouldn’t have answered.” He was right.
“But you hate that house.” I closed my eyes feeling the sting of tears.
“Not as much as I love you.” His voice was shrouded in emotions and even across the kite string phone line I could tell that he was just as close to bawling his eyes out as I was.
“How did we end up here, Blaise?” I whispered.
“Together. And that’s the same way we’re going to get to the next place. All you need to do is tell me where you want to go.”
I laid back on the bed, hugging my pillow close to my chest. “That’s the thing. I was happy where I was, Blaise. I love managing the band. I love spending my life on the road and in the studio. I love music. I love YOUR music. I love you. I love the guys. Maybe it seems like I’ve just been going through life riding your coattails –“
“Ava, no. No one has ever thought that. The band wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for you. We’ve all been riding the wave of your success. I just, I worry that you’ve been so busy making my dreams come true, you’ve never taken the time to think about your own. And it can’t just be all about me anymore.”
Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel Page 13