First and Forever: Heartache Duet Book 2

by McLean, Jay

  I pause my speech and clear my throat, try to blink back my emotions. “Maybe now’s not a good time for this.”

  He sighs, his gaze lifting an inch to look at the real me. His hands go to his hair, tugging. Then he gets up to sit next to me. “I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s broken, Ava.”

  Me.

  I’m broken.

  Every time I look at my mother, it breaks me.

  Every time Trevor walks through the door, it shatters me.

  And every time I’m with Connor, it ruins me.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. Again. “I just want you to be the same.”

  He nods, accepting the vagueness of my response, and sucks in a huge breath. “You want me to stay with you tonight?”

  I’m quick to shake my head, ignoring the disappointment that fills his eyes. “I’m pretty beat,” I tell him. “I’m probably just going to sleep now.” He knows it’s an excuse, just like every other night since we slept together in his truck. He hasn’t stayed over, and we haven’t been intimate. Besides, it’s hard to give that part of yourself to someone when you’re constantly questioning whether he’s given that part of him to someone else.

  Chapter 32

  Connor

  The next morning, Ava’s waiting out by my truck in her pajamas, not even close to being ready for school. “You left your phone on the tripod,” she says, handing it to me.

  “Yeah, I figured,” I say, tapping on the screen. The batteries dead; not surprising.

  “Don’t worry; I didn’t go through it.”

  My eyes snap to hers. “I wasn’t worried.” It hadn’t even occurred to me.

  With a nod, she looks away.

  I sigh. “I take it you’re not going to school?”

  Still refusing to look at me, she says, “I have some stuff to take care of today.”

  “Right…”

  Her gaze flicks to mine. A single second. “I’ll see you later?”

  “Sure.”

  She starts to walk away, but I grasp her hand, pull her into me. I dip my head, my mouth aimed for hers, but she turns away and pulls back. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. I’m gross.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.” She shrugs me off completely. “I’ll see ya.”

  And then she’s gone.

  I’m not naive or stupid enough to not realize what’s going on or how she’s feeling. We haven’t had sex in weeks, and any other form of intimacy feels like a blessing. It’s a hurdle, I tell myself. A small one. Soon, it’ll be over, and we can go back to the way things were. She’s giving me time, and I’m giving her space…

  Because that’s how relationships work…

  …right?

  * * *

  I get to school early, making sure to catch Rhys before first period. “Hey, can I talk to you?”

  “What’s up?”

  * * *

  Connor: When are you getting home from work?

  Trevor: Leaving now. I should be there in about twenty. Everything ok?

  Connor: Yeah. Everything’s cool. I’ll wait for you out front. I need to talk to you.

  Trevor shows up a half hour later and pulls his truck into his driveway. I walk over quickly, wanting to catch him before he goes inside. Grabbing the envelope out of my back pocket, I wait until he’s out of the truck before handing it to him. His eyes narrow at me, then at the envelope. He opens the flap and glances inside. “This is a lot of hundreds, Connor.” He looks around us. “What is this?”

  I shrug. “I sold some stuff.”

  He shakes his head, slams the envelope against my chest. “I’m not taking your money.”

  I throw my hands up and take a step back, forcing him to hold on to the cash. “It’ll help, right?”

  “Connor…”

  I cross my arms. “One day, you and Ava are going to realize that it’s not just you three. I’m part of this, too. Miss D—she’s like a mother to me, whether you guys see that or not. I’m just doing my part.”

  Trevor nods slowly as if contemplating. “It’s a loan.”

  “It’s whatever you want to tell yourself.”

  He sighs. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  * * *

  I wake up the next morning to a knock on the door. No. To someone beating down the door. “Connor, I know you’re in there! Let me in!”

  “Shit,” I whisper, pushing the covers off me. I open the door and don’t get a chance to say anything before Ava’s pushing past me and going to my room. She’s moving shit around, looking through my drawers, my closet. She goes through my school bag, takes out the laptop and places it on the bed. Then she looks for my phone. It’s there, too. Realization hits, and I know why she’s here. I lean against the doorframe as I watch her stand in the middle of my room, already dressed for school. Her hands are on her hips as she looks around, first at the floor, then at the walls, and she won’t find what she’s looking for, at least not in here. As if reading my mind, she shoulders past me and does the same thing in the living room, turning over the cushions on the couch, checking the TV, and then the stereo. She looks at the floor and then the walls… I groan the moment I notice her shoulders tense.

  She pushes past me again, heading for the door. “Do you need a ride to school?” I call out because I’m still half asleep and it’s the only thing I can think to say.

  “I’m good!” she yells, marching down the steps.

  Today is going to be neat.

  I don’t see Ava again until the end of lunch when she storms through the doors on a mission from Satan himself. “Jesus Christ, Connor, what’s with your girl?” Mitch laughs out.

  I curse under my breath and get to my feet, but she moves past me, curls bouncing around, and goes straight for Rhys. “Give it back!”

  Rhys eyes her warily before moving to me, but his words are meant for her. “Give what back?”

  “The jersey!”

  “What jersey?”

  “The signed Larry Bird jersey, you fucking shit-for-brains. Give it back to him!”

  Rhys laughs, but I don’t, because I don’t miss the fury in Ava’s eyes like he does. “It was a fair trade.”

  Ava’s jaw clenches and she reaches up, pulls on Rhys’s hair until his head throws back. The entire table hisses, a single sound of sympathy for our fallen brother. “Give it back!” Ava yells, but she ends in a sob, and she’s lost it. Completely. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off her feet. “Let it go, Ava.”

  “No!”

  I try to pull her away, but she’s still holding onto Rhys’s hair, and he moves with us. “Control your fucking woman, Ledger!”

  Ava releases his hair just so she can kick him. “Give it back to him!”

  “Not here!” I grind out, motioning for Rhys to follow us outside. I carry Ava in the same position while she squirms in my hold, trying to attack Rhys as if this is his fault. It’s not. And besides, I like Rhys. I don’t really feel like losing him to Ava’s raging ninja kicks.

  Once out of the cafeteria and away from everyone’s cell phones directed at her, I set her back on her feet. She charges at Rhys, and he steps away just in time.

  “Ava!” I yell. “Calm the hell down!”

  She ignores me, stands in front of Rhys. “Give it back to him now!”

  “He sold it to me!”

  “So, sell it back!”

  Rhys shakes his head, crosses his arms. “No!”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I press. “It’s just a fucking jersey.”

  She spins to me, tears already in her eyes when she says, “It’s not just a jersey, Connor!” Her chest rises with her need for air. “You were twelve, and you and your dad drove ten hours for the slight chance that you might meet him! You stood outside that store for five hours before you got to the front of the line! And you told me how it felt for you to be standing in front of your hero and how nervous you were when your dad took a picture of you two! And the s
mile on your dad’s face when that guy shook your hand and told you to follow your dreams! You told me all this when I was lying in your arms one night, and you said it was one of the best days of your life because you got to meet your hero, with your hero: your dad! So, no, Connor!” she yells through her cries. “It’s not just a fucking jersey. It’s an amazing memory you got to share with your dad. And you can’t take advantage of that because… because you don’t get them back! You don’t get do-overs!”

  My heart sinks, and I realize this isn’t about the jersey or the money… this isn’t even about me.

  “You don’t get do-overs, Connor, you just—” She stops there, her sobs too strong she can’t do anything else.

  “Come here,” I say, pulling her into me. This time, she lets me. She cries into my chest, her tears soaking through my shirt. I stroke her hair, every part of me grieving the loss of her own moments with her mom. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. She looks up, her cheeks wet. Her forceful sob causes a hiccup, and then another, and I frown down at her, place my mouth to hers, inhaling her cries into me. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I’ll give it back,” Rhys says, rubbing her back. He offers me a sad smile and then leaves us alone.

  “It’s not just a jersey,” Ava murmurs.

  I search her face for a semblance of peace. “I know.”

  Another sob escapes her, and she places her ear to my chest. “The fireflies might come back, but they won’t bring the magic with them.”

  Chapter 33

  Connor

  Ava sits next to me in multimedia, her head on the desk, her arms shielding her. Miss Salas notices, and I nudge her leg with mine under the desk. Ava looks up, wipes the drool off the corner of her mouth.

  She told me she hasn’t been sleeping well, and not because of anything her mom’s doing. She’s just stressed about the uncertainty of her future, and I try to understand. I’ve offered to stay with her, but she refuses, and so I continue to give her space while she continues to give me time.

  The door opens unexpectedly, and Trevor appears. The room gasps and Miss Salas screeches, “Young man! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “One minute,” Trevor mumbles, searching the room for Ava.

  When he spots her, she sits taller. “What’s wrong?”

  Trevor empties the contents of a paper bag he’d brought with him all over the desk. He picks up a plastic crown and puts it on Ava’s head. Then he tears open a packet of confetti, tiny bits of paper flying through the air, leaving a mess all around us. He picks up a handful and throws it at Ava. Next comes one of those party horns. He puts the end in his mouth and blows. “Happy birthday!”

  I chuckle.

  More confetti.

  He tells her, “Sorry we forgot this morning.”

  “It’s okay,” Ava murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging on her lips.

  He pops a party popper in front of her face. “Happy eighteenth.” Then he adjusts her crown. “I’ll see you at home. I gotta go!” He squeezes her cheeks with one hand, puffing out her lips. “I love you, you little brat.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Get out of my classroom!” Miss Salas yells.

  “I’m going,” Trevor sings. “Jesus, you haven’t changed a bit.”

  The class erupts in giggles, and I turn to Ava. “Crown suits you.”

  She smiles. “You think?”

  “You could wear a potato sack and still be beautiful.”

  She moves closer, rests her crown-covered head on my bicep, and hugs my arm to her. “Hey,” she whispers. “What time do you leave?”

  My stomach turns. “I go to the airport right after school.”

  She pouts.

  “I’m sorry, I know I’m missing your birthday, but it’s part of the schedule—”

  “I know,” she cuts in. “It’s all part of being All-American MVP, right?”

  It’s incredibly painful to force a smile, especially after all the lies I’ve had to tell. “It’s just one night in Georgia.”

  She nods. “Maybe tomorrow we can do something together. Just you and me?”

  My smile widens, genuine this time. “I would love that, Ava.”

  She exhales with a laugh so pure and so her, and she leans up, presses her lips to mine. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” I shake my head in disbelief. I’ve wanted this moment with her for so long, and I finally have it. “I have your present in my locker.”

  “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

  “You have to promise not to use it until it’s dark, okay?”

  She squeezes my arm. “I promise.”

  “Are you two lovebirds done?” Miss Salas calls. “Because I have a class to teach and it’s not about unplanned teen pregnancy.”

  “Sorry,” I say, and Ava whispers, “Bitch.”

  Ava

  I hold Connor’s gift in my hand and glance out the living room window, watching day turn to dusk. “When are you going to open it?” Trevor asks.

  “Connor said to wait until it’s dark.”

  “If you go to your room and close the blinds, it might be dark enough.”

  “It won’t be the same,” I murmur.

  Trevor grunts. “It’s giving me damn anxiety; I want to know what it is.”

  “Connor six-six, twenty-to-twelve,” Mom mumbles. Her movements are slow when she faces me. “Happy birthday, Ava.”

  “Thank you, Mama.”

  She’s said happy birthday numerous times since I got home, and I think it’s mainly because I’m still wearing the crown Trevor got me. I haven’t taken it off. Connor’s is the only real gift I’ve gotten, and as silly as it is, I’m excited to open it.

  When I left the house this morning, Connor was waiting for me with a bunch of flowers. It was only then that Trevor remembered it was my birthday. He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, so I wasn’t mad about it. “Wait.” I sit taller. “Connor said not to use it until it’s dark; he didn’t say not to open it.”

  Trevor’s eyebrows lift, and he shifts forward. “Open it!”

  “Yeah, Ava,” Mom says. “Open it!”

  I rip off the wrapping paper and then tear into the box. It’s a plastic jar, like the ones processed fruit comes in. It’s painted black, and there’s a small switch on top. There’s tape wrapped around the lid, indicating that it’s not meant to be opened.

  “What the hell?” I whisper.

  Trevor laughs. “That was so anticlimactic.”

  “Damn,” Mom whispers. “No engagement ring.”

  “Hey now,” says Trevor. “She just turned eighteen… I need some time before I picture you walking down the aisle.”

  “You walking me down the aisle, you mean.”

  Trevor’s teeth show when he smiles. “Really?”

  I throw the wrapping paper at his head. “Of course, stupid.”

  Connor

  I wait out in the hallway of the hotel, having just met my grandmother. Or re-met her, really.

  I thought maybe once I’d seen her, a memory would come flooding back and I’d recognize at least parts of her. I didn’t. And even though my mom warned me that she was sick, that she didn’t have much time, I hadn’t prepared myself for what was in front of me.

  My mom sat in the room while my grandmother choked out questions I couldn’t quite comprehend. My grandmother’s caretaker was with her, and she was able to translate them for me. I answered them in truth or as much truth as I felt comfortable giving. But when she asked about my dad, I refused. Just like with Ava, I didn’t want him to have anything to do with what was happening. This was about me, and it was for me. For some form of closure, I guess.

  The door opens, and my mother appears, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you, Connor. You have no idea how much this meant to her.”

  I nod, even though I don’t really get it. Sitting in a room with me for twenty minutes while grilling me about
the life I’ve lived doesn’t really seem like it should make up for the fifteen years my grandmother has missed out on. Besides, she could’ve contacted my dad… if that was ever an option. I really don’t know.

  Mom rubs a hand down her face and then lets out a sob. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “It’s so hard seeing her like this.”

  I can’t imagine what it would be like to watch your parent die in front of your eyes, and the way she is now—it reminds me of Ava, of what all she’s been through. I find myself reaching out, my hand resting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes downcast.

  I add, “And I’m sorry that I made you guys fly to me.” You kind of gave me a fear of airports, I don’t add. They’d landed while I was at school and had booked two rooms at a hotel near the airport. I thought one was for them, and one was for me. Turns out, my mom expected me to stay with her. That was a hard line I didn’t plan on blurring, and so I asked her to get me my own.

  She says, wiping at her eyes, “It’s okay. You’ve done everything you can.”

  I have.

  And this is all I’m willing to do, I’ve decided. Because it’s caused too many problems and put too much of a strain on the person who matters the most: Ava.

  “Where’s your room?” I ask.

  “On the other side of the hotel.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  She smiles, but it’s sad. “That’s very chivalrous of you.”

  I shrug. “I guess Dad raised me…” I trail off. He raised me right, even without you. I look away when I catch the hostility in her eyes.

  “Connor, did you talk to your dad about—”

  “No,” I cut in. “If he wanted to tell me what happened back then, he would’ve already. And if you think it’s something I should know, then you need to be the one to say it.”

  She exhales, her cheeks puffing with the force. “You’re very mature for your age.”