Hours roll by, and she doesn’t respond. I know it’s been hours because I completed my entire at-home workout routine. Then I watched an episode of my favorite sitcom as I snacked, followed by reading a few chapters of the sci-fi novel I just started. I heard her shuffling around in the hall, down the stairs, and I even heard her water the plants as I reorganized my bookshelf. But she never texted back, and we never bumped into each other.
When I slip my bookmark into my book, it’s so quiet beyond my bedroom door, I think she left. It takes everything in me not to go down the hall and knock on her door myself, but what Avery does isn’t any of my business. She’s free to come and go as she pleases. Then a thought strikes me. What if I saved her number wrong? Or worse… What if she’s ignoring me?
Both ideas tighten the knots forming in my stomach. It’s like I’m back in high school, getting rejected by somegirl freshman year because I was too skinny. Which happened more than once, might I add. Truthfully, that was all the motivation I needed to bulk up, put my nose down, and make something of myself. To become the man of the house my dad couldn’t bring himself to be. Though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered what it’d be like if he’d stayed. Would I have been bullied less? Would he have taught me to throw a decent punch so I wouldn’t have had to learn in real time? The scars faded, but the questions about my dad never did.
It’s stupid, but I thought football would be the one thing he might reach out over. The day I was drafted, I was sure he’d tune into ESPN just to see me walk across that stage. I’d pop my new team’s cap onto my head, and he’d finally realize what he missed and pick up the phone. But he didn’t. That’s when it sunk in that no matter how much hope we have for something to work out, sometimes it just doesn’t.
So I did what I knew worked. Nose down. Train hard. Being successful was the least I could do to show my mom how much I appreciated her sacrifices for my sister and me. She held the whole house together herself and stepped up when the man who helped create us wouldn’t. We never needed my dad, and he was fine with that. We only needed the three of us.
Until a few months ago, apparently.
I suck in a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, still processing the last thing Maggie said to me. And the last thing I said to her. My jaw tightens. Her admission that day was a betrayal, but after sitting with it for a while, I can understand why she did what she did. It’s hard not torespond when the man you’ve been wondering about for years finally reaches out. But she didn’t have to invite him to her wedding.
A knock on the door jerks me to a sitting position. If I’m gonna wallow, I’m gonna do it alone. “It’s open.”
Avery pokes her head in. A second later she’s standing in my room. “Hi.” She looks around, her brow creasing as her gaze lands on me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I look around too, trying to see what she does. “Why?”
“Earlier, you just seemed… I don’t know. You seemed off. I’m sorry if I did something?—”
“You didn’t do anything.”
Her pretty eyes crinkle. “Okay. I was just worried.”
“Don’t be,” I assure her. “I’m just thinking about some things.”
“Like what?”
Her question takes me aback. Who pries like that? If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to get lost, but with Avery it feels different. “Like the fact that maybe I owe my sister an apology.”
“For what?”
I let out a long breath. “Being a jerk. Telling her what to do.”
“Oof. Telling an adult what to do, Ty? Tsk. Tsk. Learn your place.”
Her giggle almost settles the turmoil boiling within me. “I’m trying to do better.”
“I like that. It’s admirable. Very self-aware. I could learn a thing or two from you.”
Something swells in my chest at the possibility that I’vesomehow unintentionally won points with Avery. “I could learn something fromyou.”
She scoffs. “Like what? How to change your mind a million times? How to finish household chores with ADHD? Jury’s still out on that one, by the way.”
I shake my head. “Don’t act like that. There’s a lot I could learn. Like how to find the silver linings even when the ceiling fan is flinging crap everywhere.” She laughs. It’s music to my starved ears, spurring me on as I try for more. “Or how to live in my car and still be a good cat mom.”
She shakes her head. “Stop being so nice to me.”
“I can’t.” I pick one of Dolly’s hairs from my black shorts. “But seriously, I’m fine.”
Her bright eyes soften a fraction, like she knows I’m not telling the full truth. “Good. I’m glad you’re okay. If you’re not?—”
“I am, Avery. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Ty. I can tell if?—”
“I’m not. I’m fine.”
