“I get that.” I pick at the wood on the picnic table, wincing when a sliver lodges itself beneath my thumbnail. “I’ve had shit luck too.”
“Even with Ava?”
“Even with her.”
And that just fucking sucks.
I come home after practice, dirty and tired. Coach ran us ragged throughout most of it, thanks to us losing to the Badgers Friday night. It wasn’t that he was pissed. More like he was disappointed. He sounded like my dad, giving all of us a lecture at the start of practice about slipping up and making mistakes throughout the night, when he knew we were better than that. We all ended up feeling like shit when the speech was over. Then we went on the field and played even worse.
Sucked.
By the time I’m walking into the house, I’m tense, prepared for Mom to attack me with her usual drunken nonsense. When I told her about Dad taking my phone away last night, she laughed. That’s it. I really appreciate her constant support.
Yeah.
Anyway, I’m fully prepared for her to say something awful, but when I enter the kitchen, I find her—making dinner. Something she never does.
Odd.
“Hungry?” she asks, her bright gaze meeting mine. I can tell she’s been drinking. There’s a half full wineglass on the counter, so there’s the first clue. But she’s also actually cooking. Looks like spaghetti, which I know is a fairly simple meal, but come on. I can’t remember the last time she actually played homemaker and cooked a meal for us. It’s usually takeout, frozen foods, or those gourmet meal kits that always taste like absolute trash.
“I am,” I say, as I slowly set my duffel on the barstool closest to me. I watch as she buzzes around the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”
“Can’t I make dinner for my son?” she chirps, as she goes to the oven and opens the door, peeking in. The delicious scent of garlic wafts out and my stomach growls.
This was my favorite meal when I was little. Spaghetti and garlic bread.
“I guess,” I say with a shrug. Ah, still can’t help but be a little asshole. Guess it’s in my blood. “What’s the occasion? Dad finally agree to your alimony demands or what?”
She sends me an irritated look, letting the oven door slam. “No need to be rude about it. Can’t I do something nice for you?”
“Okay.” I go to the fridge and grab a blue Gatorade out of it, shutting the door as I twist the lid off and drain half of it in one go. “Seriously. What’s up?”
“You think I always have ulterior motives?” She sounds offended.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
Sighing, she sets the potholders on the counter and rubs her forehead. Then grabs her wineglass and takes a few sips. “I had a conversation with your father today. He told me he took your phone away.”
“Yeah, I already told you about that.” She blinks at me, and I can see the cogs turning in her brain as she tries to remember. “You laughed at me when I mentioned it.”
“I did?” She rests her hand against her chest. She’s been drinking, but I guess she’s not too drunk, considering she suddenly has a conscience. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Right.” I nod, not believing her. See how she didn’t apologize for being awful either. I come by this shit naturally.
“Why didn’t you try and explain to me why he took it away?” she asks.
“I figured you would get mad too and agree with him,” I say with a shrug.
“You need a phone, Eli.” She walks over to the desk that’s in the kitchen and reaches into her purse, pulling out a familiar white box. “So I got you one.”
I’m shook. Mom went out and bought me a brand new phone? “Really?” I stare at the box she holds out to me, almost afraid to touch it.
“Yes, really,” she says with a little laugh. “Your dad and I agreed that what he did was—impulsive.”
See? I come by that naturally too.
“He shouldn’t have taken it away,” she continues. “And once he had it, he realized it was pretty beat up.”
“It was,” I agree, my fingers itching to grab that new phone.
“Here.” She holds it out, closer to me. “It’s yours.”
I take the box from her and slowly pull off the lid, whistling low when I see the shiny new iPhone. It’s the newest model, and I’m so overcome with gratefulness, I reach out and pull Mom into a quick, one-armed hug. “Thank you,” I tell her, as I press my face into her hair, breathing in her familiar, comforting scent.
“Y-you’re welcome.” She sounds shocked. Maybe even a little emotional. It should be no big deal, her giving me a phone, but it feels like one.
This feels like a moment. A peace offering.
I’d be an idiot not to reciprocate.
Eight
Ava
“Come on Ava. I was hoping you would go to Sorrento’s house tomorrow.” Wyatt smiles at me, his gaze steady, his entire demeanor calm. The dude could probably lull me to sleep if I let him.
Wow, that is so not a compliment. Thinking that felt catty and mean.
I smile at him and slowly shake my head. “No way. I never go to Tony’s parties.”
“It’s about time you should, right? And what’s the big deal? Jake will be there, so what? Lots of people will be there. Plus, he’ll be with Hannah and won’t even pay attention to what you’re doing,” Wyatt says, sounding vaguely annoyed. But not too annoyed.
It’s like Wyatt has one emotion, and it’s completely balanced. He never gets too mad or too happy. He’s very restrained.
I don’t know if that’s a good thing.
We’re at the Thursday night team dinner that the football booster club hosts. They invited the cheer team, and Brandy said we should go. Even though a few of us have a huge history test tomorrow to study for.
Like me.
But anyway.
When dinner was over, my dad and a few of the other coaches gave rousing speeches that had all the boys roaring their approval, as usual. Once we were dismissed, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, but I didn’t realize that Wyatt was following right behind me, calling my name to get me to stop.
Lindsey noticed. She smirked at me before grabbing Dakota, and they both took off toward her car. I’m sure they’ll be gossiping about me and Wyatt on the drive home. Not sure why no one is gossiping about me and Eli, but I say a quiet thank you to whoever is controlling the constant chatter around here and hope that it remains that way.
Quiet.
I hate gossip. I don’t want people talking about me. I live somewhat in the shadows of my older sister and brother, and while sometimes I hate that, in moments like this? When all eyes could be on me and my name on the tip of everyone’s tongue? I don’t want the attention. Autumn dealt with it a lot in high school, and so does Jake.
“I’m always so tired after the games,” I say, which isn’t necessarily a lie. But if the right boy was asking right now—ahem, Eli—then I’d be agreeing without hesitation.
“Then it’ll be a chance for you to relax and hang out,” Wyatt says, his tone actually pretty convincing. I should experience Tony’s house parties at least once, right? “Come on.” He reaches out and gently socks my arm with his fist. “You should go.”
That was a total excuse for him to touch me, which is sweet. If I wasn’t so hung up and completely hungover from my previous relationship that I still haven’t given up on, I’d be more agreeable. But I’m not, so…
“Bring Ellie,” Wyatt says. “She told me she doesn’t have to work tomorrow night.”
“She did?” Hmm. Does Ellie secretly have the hots for Wyatt? We’ve really only talked about my issues with Eli this week, which isn’t fair. I’ve dumped all my woes and worries on her and she’s never said a single word about what’s going on with her love life.
I need to be a better friend.
“Yeah. You two should totally come to the party.” He smiles, and it’s a pretty sight, I can’t deny it. My heart doesn’t start rac
ing though. Of course, my heart doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to someone else. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” I hear myself say. “We’ll go.”
Well, that was easy.
“Awesome.” He holds his hand out for a high five and I give it to him. At the last second, he grabs hold of my wrist, his fingers loose though he doesn’t let go. “Can’t wait to hang out with you.”
“Yeah.” My smile is weak. “Same.”
“See ya tomorrow,” he says, as he walks away from me.
“See ya,” I call after him, unaware someone is standing right next to me until he speaks.
“He’s a better choice for you, and you know it.”
Gee, love it when you offer up your opinion, big brother.
I glance over at Jake to see he’s watching Wyatt head toward his car in the church parking lot where the team dinners are held. “Wyatt is nice.”
“He’s kind of a prick, but he’s way better than the colossal douchebag you chose originally,” Jake mutters.
“It’s not like Eli and I are over,” I tell him.
Jake scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“What are you talking about?” I turn so I’m facing him, my arms crossed, my entire being feeling cross. As in, I’m super angry. Eli has been surprisingly quiet on social media this week. I’d like to think he’s taking some time and thinking about us and what happened.
But that’s just me projecting. I have no idea what he’s doing or thinking. I haven’t heard from him since those two text messages he sent me last weekend. And he never replied to the text I sent him. He hasn’t posted on Instagram or Snapchat. Definitely no more trash-talking stories. What’s the point? They played the game. His team lost.
That’s the end of it.
“I don’t see him coming around, trying to win you back,” he says, his tone condescending. “Pretty sure he’s moved on. Not like he’s the type to have a girlfriend.”
“What, you two are so close that you know and understand his dating habits?” Now it’s my turn to scoff. “Give me a break.”
“Can’t you get it through your thick skull that he is the absolute last guy you should go for right now?”
I hold my hand up, practically shoving it in my brother’s smug face. “I’m over this conversation. We’re done.”
“What the fuck, Ava?” Jake yells, as I hurry down the steps and into the parking lot, heading for my car. I’m sick of him being this way. Of constantly tearing Eli down, of not letting me ever get a word in when we’re having a so-called conversation. We’re not conversing, Jake’s lecturing and I’m supposed to just sit there and listen.
So over it.
I climb into my car and speed out of the parking lot, past my dad and Jake who are standing where I was only moments ago. I drive and drive, until I’m on the highway, passing by the Starbucks parking lot. Where I spot—
Eli’s car in the drive-thru line.
I whip around and head back to Starbucks, pulling into the parking lot a little too fast, making my tires squeal when I hit the brakes. The car is a Dodge Charger, just like Eli’s but…
It’s not his. His car is red. This one is black.
Frustration fills me and I lean forward, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel and closing my eyes. I’m seeing things. He’s everywhere and nowhere. I can’t keep this up. Thinking I see him when I don’t. Is this even normal? I feel like maybe I’m losing my grip on reality. My thoughts are consumed with him, yet he won’t talk to me. It’s like what we shared never happened.
A horn blares, startling me, and I lift up, glancing in the rearview mirror to see a car behind me, waiting for me to move. I’m blocking the flow of traffic in this narrow parking lot. Waving my hand in the rearview mirror, I pull into the closest parking spot, throw the car in park and lean back against the seat, exhaling loudly. The other car goes speeding by, and I hear laughter. Boy’s laughter.
The sound fills me with sadness. Reminds me of Eli.
God, what doesn’t remind me of him?
Pulling my phone out of the center console, I bring up our text message thread and start typing.
You never responded to me. So I guess you don’t care. Or you’re still mad at me. I never told my brother anything about your family. My brother never knew about us at all until the night before the game, thanks to your IG story. But I’m not mad about that. I’m not mad about anything. I’m just sad.
I hit send, then continue typing.
I’m sad because you gave up on us so easily, and I can’t do that. Maybe you can. And if you don’t want me in your life anymore, then tell me. Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you never want to see me again, and I’ll leave you alone.
I send that text too, because why not? I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
But of course, he doesn’t respond.
Fighting back tears, I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot, then head home, so I can cry myself to sleep.
Yet again.
I pull into our circular driveway, hitting the brakes extra hard when I see the familiar car sitting directly in front of me.
My sister’s.
Autumn’s here?
I hustle my butt out of the car, quickly grabbing my backpack and my cheer practice bag from the trunk. I make my way into the house through the garage, chattering voices greeting me when I open the door. I find Mom, Beck and Autumn sitting at the kitchen table, laughing and talking. The smile on my sister’s face is huge when she spots me. She looks happy to be home.
She looks happy in general.
“Ava!” she says brightly. “Get in here!”
I hurry over to the table just as Autumn stands, embracing her fully. She’s shorter than me by a few inches and I cling to her like she’s my lifeline, closing my eyes against the sudden, stinging tears.
I’m totally overreacting, but I also don’t care. I’ve missed her.
So much.
“Happy to see you too,” she says into my hair, before she moves to press a smacking kiss on my cheek.
Reluctantly, I let go of her. “Why are you here?”
Autumn laughs. So does Mom. “I got an unexpected three-day weekend, so I thought I’d come home. This way I can go watch Ash’s game Saturday.”
She’s been with her boyfriend since they were high school seniors. They go to different colleges, live about five hours apart, yet somehow, they can still make it work. They’re madly in love, though in the early days of their relationship, they had some struggles.
“Aren’t you glad she came home?” Mom asks me as we both settle down in our chairs. She reaches over and rubs Autumn’s arm. “We’ve missed having you around. Soon Jake will leave too—”
“Won’t miss him,” I interrupt, making Autumn giggle.
“I’ll miss him,” Beck says as he stands. “I’m going to take a shower. You guys go ahead and have your girl talk. I’m out.”
With that, he’s gone.
Mom just sighs and shakes her head. “Fine, we will have our girl talk. Ava, how was your day?”
“It was whatever,” I say with a little shrug.
Autumn sends me a curious look. “What’s going on?”
“Oh. Nothing,” I say innocently.
“She’s had some relationship trouble,” Mom says, being purposely vague, and she sends my sister a look, like they might’ve discussed my situation already.
Great.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Autumn says firmly, her gaze on me.
We chat about other things. Catch up on family gossip, which isn’t much. Autumn tells us about her college classes, and how it’s going for her. She’s a junior and goes to UC Santa Barbara. I’m jealous she gets to live by the ocean. I wouldn’t mind going there.
But my problem is I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I’m only sixteen. I can barely figure out what I’m going to wear each day. I can’t plan my entire future by the time I graduate
high school.
Dad and Jake arrive about thirty minutes after I got home and they’re all over Autumn. Even Jake, who most of the time acts like he can’t stand her, though she hasn’t lived with us for over two years. I decide to bow out and go take a shower. I’m tired and I still have homework to do and a test to study for. Tomorrow is going to be a typical, busy Friday with the football game, plus Wyatt wants me to go to Tony’s house afterward.
I’m exhausted just thinking about it.
I open the bathroom door, steam billowing out as I enter my bedroom. I stop short when I see who’s sitting all cozy on my bed, wrapped up in one of my favorite blankets.
Autumn.
“You stole this out of my room.” She pats the blanket.
“I did not.”
Wait.
Maybe I did?
“This was one of my favorites.” She pets it, raking her fingers over the cozy soft fabric.
“Then why’d you leave it behind?” I make my way over to the dresser, grabbing undies, then a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt.
“Ha! See, you did take it. Oh well, I guess I can’t blame you.”
I slip my panties on under the towel then whip it off, letting it drop to the floor as I tug the tank top over my head. My sister is blatantly watching me, her gaze roving over every inch of my skin in that typical big sister, I am silently judging you, way she has.
I love her, but we can get into it when we want, which is often, especially when she still lived here. Yet you better never come for me, because she will cut you before you get a chance to attack. Autumn is extremely overprotective of us all.
“I think your boobs are getting bigger,” she tells me, as I’m pulling on my shorts.
“In my dreams,” I say, my gaze going to her chest. Hers are huge. Bigger than I’d want. Glad I didn’t inherit that gene.
“I actually think so. You’ve filled out more. You have curves,” Autumn continues.
“I appreciate your positive assessment,” I tell her half-jokingly as I collapse on my bed right next to her.
“Your skin is really clear too,” she says as she turns to face me. “You look good, Ava. Tell me why you’re acting all down and out.”
Meant To Be (The Callahans Book 4) Page 7