“But that’s boring. If you won’t do something with me, at least take pity and let me listen.”
“As if whatever you have planned is interesting.”
“You know what? I was excited to have you guys move next door. At least your dad is cool. But you sit around and do nothing. Maybe you’re the boring one, not me.” I didn’t mean to say it, but I was on the verge of giving up and the words spilled out.
She looked like she wanted to kill me. I lived for it, a surge of energy zipping up my spine. Finally, she was listening to me. “If I agree to do something today, will you leave me alone?”
“If you agree to do something, I promise you’ll never want me to leave you alone ever again.”
I waited for her to reach for her headphones to block me out. But she asked, “And what exciting adventure do you have planned for us?”
“Have you ever ridden a horse?”
A whoop split the air as Avery rode up beside me. The stables were five hundred feet away and I wasn’t going to let her beat me—not when she’d only been riding horses for five months. She fell plenty the first few weeks, but she dusted herself off and kept going, refusing to give up. I pushed to reach her, but she got to the gate seconds before me. Sweat beaded her brow and a wild grin stretched her mouth. Wispy strands of hair breaking free from her ponytail, framing her face. I lived for those moments.
“You shouldn’t go easy on me, Gaflin,” she said, swinging her leg over her usual mare’s—Lady Bug—dappled back.
“I promise you, I’m not.” I respected her too much for that.
“Good.”
We led our horses inside to untack and groom them. We worked in silence as I got up the nerve to ask a question that had been nagging at the back of my mind.
“Does this mean we’re finally friends?” Simple but, to me, being Avery’s friend was something worth fighting for. I’d never worked to be someone’s friend before.
This wasn’t born from convenience; it was earned.
She tilted her head back and forth as she brushed. “No. I’m just using you for your horses.”
“I think I can live with that.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. We don’t stay anywhere much longer than this.” Her eyes fell to where she was using a curry comb on Lady Bug’s shoulder. For a moment, sadness seemed to leak through the cracks of her guarded expression.
“I guess I need to step up my game then, if I’m going to convince you I’m not going anywhere, even when you leave,” I said, understanding that she’d rather be lonely than get hurt.
We finished, and during the walk back she popped her headphones in. Her volume was so loud the songs would leak out. Pink Floyd. Fleetwood Mac. The Stones. She had started to embrace my world, but I was still waiting to be let into hers.
I desperately wanted in.
In the evenings, Mom and Hudson would return around the same time we did, all of us meeting for dinner before Avery and Hudson headed home.
“There you two are. You were almost late, dinner should be done in ten,” Hudson said, standing in the door connecting the living room to the back mudroom that was strewn with dusty boots and gear.
“It’s not like you should be talking. You both were out late last week. It’s like you’re dating or something. But seriously, if you are, can you just tell us already instead of sneaking around,” Avery said as she kicked out of her boots and set them neatly to the side.
I’d been curious too. There were only so many conclusions you could draw when your parents disappeared together for hours on end. But I was too preoccupied with the mystery of Avery to pay close attention or worry.
Mom walked over to join Hudson. “Oh, I guess I can understand why you’d think that.” Her voice was light but didn’t have any strength behind it.
“If you are, that’s great!” I said in a rush.
Hudson was always helping Mom out, and though she’d dated in the past, no one had ever been there for her the way Hudson was. And selfishly, I thought that if they were dating then Avery would stay longer.
But then I saw the way their eyes found each other. Our parents had these silent conversations, and by that point, I was getting the hang of interpreting them. Resignation. Bargaining.
“No, nothing like that,” Mom said. Her chin quivered. “I—” The rest of the words caught in her throat.
Hudson’s hand landed on hers, ready to step in and carry the weight when she needed it. “Why don’t we all take a seat and talk?”
