Ava’s eyes snag on mine, and the two of us freeze that way for what feels like forever. Then, just as Rush is about to land his wandering lips square over her mouth, Ava slaps her hands over his chest and pushes him away. She whispers something into his ear before taking off out the back.
Rush looks over at me, his anger morphing to something just this side of curiosity.
“Dude, what the hell has gotten into you? Where’s your girl, man?”
I want to saymy girl just walked out that door, and then it hits me.
Ava. She’s my girl.
A dull laugh thumps through me, dissipating as quick as it came. We could never work out. Ava deserves someone better, someone who doesn’t come with so many broken pieces.
A cool set of hands covers my eyes a moment before Darcy pops in front of me. “Boo!” She offers up a spontaneous salute with her red Solo cup, the booze emanating off her breath like a fire hazard.
Rush glances from Darcy to me with that strange look on his face he gets whenever there’s deductive reasoning involved. “Whoa.” He tilts his head as if he’s put it all together. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” I excuse myself from Darcy and follow Rush to the back where the music is toned down just enough. “What’s going on?” I lean back on my heels, still feeling the need to pound in those lips of his. Who the hell does he think he is trying to take advantage of Ava?
“Are you into Darcy?” He shakes his head as if he already has the answer.
“We’re friends. I told you that. We were together, and now we’re—I don’t know, here.”
“That’s not what she said.” He downs the beer in his hand before tossing the bottle into an oversized houseplant just a few feet away. “She said you’re inseparable. It sounded like things were back on track.”
My heart thumps into my skull and gives my brain a good rattle. Crap. Who else is she telling this to? It kills me to think she’s even hinted at this with Ava.
“No. I don’t know what she’s talking about. We’re just hanging out.”
Rush gives a humble shrug. “Sorry, man. I probably just misunderstood her.” He gives my arm a quick sock. “Try not bumping into people tonight. I almost kicked your ass.” He shines that shit-eating grin my way, bright as a spotlight in this dim light before melting back into the crowd. That’s exactly what I want to do, melt into the crowd, into the woodwork, or perhaps the most efficient of them all—right into the ground with my sister.
I head back out and tell Darcy I’m heading up to bed.
Her mouth falls open as if crestfallen before perking right back up.
“I can tuck you in if you like?”
And there it is—the offer she’s hoping I won’t refuse. I grimace toward the back where Ava slipped out not too long ago. The last thing in the world I want is Darcy anywhere near my bed. The old me would have let her stay. I might have taken things too far and not thought twice, but this version can’t get out of this fire fast enough.
“That’s okay. Thanks, though. You need me to call you a ride?”
Darcy sobers up with her eyes narrowed, her lips pinched shut to nothing. “That’s all right.” She lands her cup on the table beside her. “I can handle it.”
We say goodnight, and I head on up without getting another glimpse of my favorite police officer. Every last part of me wants to send her a message, tell her how stunning she looks tonight, invite her up so we can talk about things.
Talk about things. What a joke. I hit the bed and close my eyes in an effort to ignore the tears as they beg to come. You can’t talk about things when they’re too close to home. Things are still happening around me, to me. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking coming to Whitney Briggs so close to home, so close to the nexus of the disaster.
Bryson and Owen bounce through my mind. There’s no way I ever want to have another run-in with either of them. Ava envelops my thoughts, and I press the pause button and linger. Now that’s one person I would never evict from my mind, from my life, from my bed.
Maybe I am glad I came to Briggs after all.
Sunday, Mom invites me out for a late lunch. Dad is out of town, and she said she’d like the company, so I head home. The last house on a cul-de-sac was a great place to grow up. Steph and I rode our bikes out in the street until well after dark. The basketball hoop Dad bought us when I was eight still stands prominent at the base of the sidewalk looking slouched and dejected from lack of good use.
“What’s up, old buddy?” I give it a tap as I head past it.
Mom’s car is tucked in the driveway, and I can hear the sound of Rusty barking up a storm from inside. I head around back and find Mom sitting on the veranda with a steaming glass of tea and a book nestled in her hands. “Mom.” I try to sound jovial and light despite the fact I’m experiencing one severe Ava hangover. I don’t know how much more of this silent treatment I can take.
Mom bounces out of her seat and lets out a yelp of enthusiasm that rivals anything Rusty is capable of. The scent of something meaty and delicious wafts from the opened slider door. Nobody knows their way around a kitchen like Mom. It makes coming home a mouthwatering event each and every time.
“Sweet Lord!” she trills. “Don’t give me a heart attack like that. I was listening for the door.”
