Dear Ava by Ilsa Madden-Mills

10

“Holy cow. That’s quite a shiner you’ve got there, Cold and Evil,” are the first words out of my mouth when I take my seat next to Knox in class. I barely made it here after dropping Tyler off, but the high school starts half an hour later than the elementary campus, so I had enough time. Even sat in my car for five minutes, waiting until the last second to get out. Still, I’m not late, and Mrs. White isn’t even standing at the podium yet.

My seat is a mere few inches from his, and I’m aware of the heat from his leg next to mine.

Knox eases away from me, putting more distance there, giving me a half-shrug as he keeps his gaze on his laptop. He’s erecting a force field. A big one.

It makes me want to tear it down, zap it with a ray-gun, peel back the layers, and see what’s underneath.

“If you don’t want to talk, all you have to say is Be quiet, Ava in that deep voice of yours.”

Dang, why did I have to say deep—like I’ve noticed what his voice sounds like.

He taps his fingers on the top of his thigh.

I’ve never seen someone so self-contained. Along with that force field, he’s got a few armored tanks set up on the perimeter when it comes to me. Locked down with cannons itching to fire.

Do not engage with Ava, they seem to declare.

It’s always been that way with him when it comes to me.

Except for that one time…

“Come on, Ava, let’s go upstairs to my room.” Chance breathes in my ear. His hands are on my ass, palming me as we dance.

Loud music blares from speakers set up around his den. His parents are out of town for Labor Day. It’s not a Shark party, like their postgame keggers with only football players and whoever they invite, but more of an all the popular kids from Camden shindig. A few people from Hampton High. Some townies.

“Be mine for real, baby.” His voice slurs.

“You’re drunk.”

“So? Everyone is.”

“I’m not.” Nerves hit me. Maybe I should be—to fit in. Only, I don’t like alcohol and what it does to a person.

People move around us, dancing slow, lost in the deep thump of the vibrating bass. A couple make out on the couch. Liam has Jolena pressed against the wall in an alcove in the foyer, her hands pinned above her head as he kisses her. She hooks a leg around him and tugs him closer. His hands lift her skirt up from behind and I tear my eyes off them.

Chance kisses me as his hands slip under my peasant blouse and brush against my stomach. “Babe, you feel so good. I promise I’ll go easy.”

I glance around.

Nobody is looking at us.

Except for him.

Knox.

He isn’t dancing, but unbidden, my eyes keep going back to him, keeping tabs as he sits on a loveseat in a dark corner, his position separate from the rest of the crowd. His figure is shadowy, but the broad shoulders and muscled arms splayed out along the top of the seat give him away. I know he’s there; I feel the menace emanating from him, like a king watching his subjects. There’s a pretty girl standing behind him, someone random. I don’t know her. She has her hands in his hair, scraping her nails over his scalp then drifting down and massaging his neck and shoulders, the movement of her languid ministrations sensual and slow, sliding from his silky hair to his chest. Another girl sits at his feet and rubs his thighs, her hands caressing. Don’t know her either.

With a sly look up at him, she moves to the crotch of his jeans.

My heart races, and it has nothing to do with Chance’s fingers caressing my skin. I barely notice.

His voice groans. “Don’t you want me, Ava?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, picking me up and sitting with me on the couch, maneuvering me so I straddle him.

I still see Knox.

He won’t take his eyes off me.

I watch with fascination as Knox bites his lower lip, digging in deep, so hard I expect to see blood bloom there.

I return his glance, letting him see that no, I haven’t forgotten seeing him nearly naked in that locker room, and yes, somehow he’s crawled inside me, sitting behind me in class, those long looks he gives me at lunch when I sit next to Chance.

The girl asks him something and I wish I could hear what she says, but I figure it out when she unzips his jeans and her head lowers.

My stomach drops.

“What are you doing?” Chance asks when I jump up off the couch. My chest rises and I put my hand on my flushed cheeks. I lift my eyes to Knox, and he’s a statue, body tense, watching me.

“Bathroom,” I mumble, slipping away from his hands when he reaches out to grab me.

“Babe—”

“Give me a few minutes,” I say firmly then slide farther away from him, jostling between people dancing.

I march past Knox with my hands clenched, my face turned from him so I can’t see his expression, so he doesn’t know he’s in my head instead of Chance.

What is wrong with me?

Thank goodness the bathroom down the hall is empty. I dart inside and stand for a moment and stare at myself in the mirror. I should leave. I should just walk out the front door of this house and go back to the group home, but my car isn’t here. I rode with Piper and she’s out there having a good time. Last time I saw her, she was making out with a guy from Hampton High.

“I just need a minute,” I mutter to myself in the mirror. I shove the shower curtain to the side and step into the pristine clawfoot tub, jerking the curtain back into place. Maybe, just maybe, if I hide here long enough, the party will end, Knox will leave, and Piper and I will go back to her house.

I lean back against the rim of the tub and will my body to relax.

Fat chance of that when the door opens. Dang it—I didn’t lock it.

Peeking out around the edge of the curtain, I see Knox leaning against the door, his head thrown back, his breathing heavy. My eyes search for the girls from the den. They aren’t here. My lip curls. Well, that blowjob didn’t take long.

Peeking, I watch as he scrubs his face and walks to the sink, turns on the cold water, and splashes his face. Once. Twice. Water drips down his cheek to his tan throat, slipping inside his tight black shirt. He looks up at his reflection and grimaces, his fingers trailing down his face. “Ugly, stupid, asshole motherfucker.” I hear him grunt. “You can’t have her.”

Leaning over the sink, he clutches the edge with one hand while he unzips his pants and takes out his shaft. It’s long, thick, and hard, like the rest of him. My breath hitches when he strokes himself, groaning, eyelashes fluttering against his chiseled cheeks. My ears tingle at the sounds he makes, the slap of his fist around his length as he works himself. He grabs his mushroom-shaped head and twists it, shuddering and rubbing the drops of white at the tip down his skin. “Hades and Persephone,” he mutters, almost angrily, as he shoves his jeans and underwear farther down. Slick, slick, so slick and wet, he thrusts into his hand in a greedy way, a flush starting at his neck and working its way to his face. Every second he leans down and groans stretches out and lingers, every tick of the clock dense and thick with anticipation. I bite my lip before the sound I want to make escapes.

Seeing the head Shark jack off shouldn’t mean a thing. It shouldn’t!

It’s nothing, just nothing.

Yet it’s everything.

My pelvis gets warm, desire curling. Holding my breath, my hand plunges into my jeans, rubbing at the soft mound between my legs. My sensitive nipples pebble, as if he’s right here with me, touching them. What would his caress feel like? Soft or hard? I remember him under the bleachers. Wild. Hot. Intense.

Wiggling, I move lower, pushing at my jeans. Fire burns inside me when I slip my fingers under my panties and touch soaked skin, skating over my clit. A shuddering groan escapes my lips, and I freeze, coming back to reality when I sense a change in the air, a quiet tension replacing his sounds.

Did he leave? I didn’t hear the door open—

The curtain is ripped back and he looms over me, his throat working soundlessly as he rakes his eyes over me and stumbles back, falling on the floor.

“Ava! What…” He hurries up to his knees, his face horrified. “Shit, shit, shit, what are you doing in here!”

Embarrassment flares on my cheeks. I can imagine what I look like lying here in the tub, my hands inside my panties. “Same as you, apparently,” I mutter. I stand up shakily and try to maneuver over the rim of the bath, but I forget my pants are at my knees and I end up falling.

He springs then, moving to help me as I simultaneously tug at my clothes to get them back up. He wraps his arms around my waist to steady me, but we end up tumbling down on the tile with me on top. His chest presses against mine, and I’m barely keeping myself from melting, wanting to curl into him. His thick erection is between us, and my body throbs with something I’ve never had, for a sweet pinnacle, to feel that elusive release, and now—

“You can’t be in here with me,” he grinds out, his hands on my upper arms. His grip is hard enough to bruise, but I don’t care.

I wrench out of his grasp and reach out to his face.He thinks he’s ugly? Never.

I lick my lips as my hand falls to my side.

“Chance,” his voice scratches out raggedly. He looks shaken and a little wild, and it’s the most revealing emotion I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Why didn’t you say something when I came in?” He scrubs his face, scooting farther away from me, his back leaning against the door.

“Does it make me a voyeur to say I was enjoying the show? Most definitely a deviant.”

He shudders. “You don’t even like me. I frighten you.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

He tucks himself back into his underwear, wincing.

I bring my pants up and zip them. My heart thuds painfully, my movements jerky, unsatisfied.

Voices outside the door move him to action and he jumps to a stand with athletic grace, yanking his pants up. He goes back to the sink and splashes more water on his face.

“Get up, Ava. Get the fuck out.” He clings to the edge of the counter.

“Why were you staring at me out there?”

He stiffens. “I don’t have to answer your questions. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Screw you, head Shark. I want to know!”

“Stop yelling.”

“Then tell me. What’s going on with you?” With us.

I stand up. I’m brave—for now. I admit he makes me nervous, that darkness I sense in him, the opposite of Chance. “Did she suck your cock?”

I’m tormented by the image.

His eyes swirl with emotion as he glares at me in the reflection of the mirror.

“No,” is ripped from him.

“You want me.”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Silence reigns as he seethes, fighting something inside himself. He flips around and stalks over to me. “You belong to Chance.”

“I belong to myself!”

“Have you fucked him?” His hands clench.

“No!”

“You will. He loves you.” A pause as his jaw pops. “And he’s my best friend.” I eat up the expression on his face, so unused to seeing that vulnerability in his features.

“He hasn’t said so. He’s never asked me out for a real date, and I’ve never met his parents. I’m his little secret at school.” Oh, he’s been sweet, but he has yet to take me to dinner or the movies or ask me to come to the football parties with him. “I don’t fit in with your group.”

His chest rises.

“Break up with him.” His words are flat.

But I know he doesn’t mean break up with him so you can be with me, because if anything, I know that wouldn’t be Knox’s style. He cares about Chance and he’d never in a million years pick up where his best friend left off. Goes against everything he believes, I think. Loyalty pours out of every bunched-up, tense muscle in his body right now.

Shame washes over me. Dipping my head, I rub my eyes.

I just…

I just…

His scarred face.

His deep, stormy eyes.

Something twisted and dark that resides in me yearns for him.

And I don’t even know when it snuck up on me.

I just know the real me gravitates to broken people. Their secrets. I wonder what mysteries made him like this, what or who gave him this fragmented heart, the fractured sense of how he sees himself with that slash on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, and I guess I’m sorry for not being strong enough to say those words out loud.

“Nothing’s happened between us, Ava. Get that sad look off your face.”

He misunderstands.

I’m not sad for what I just did. I’m sad because he’s out of my reach.

He swallows. “Shit, don’t break up with him. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s good. He’ll treat you right.” Then, “Just stay away from me,” he pushes out, his voice gravelly and rough as he puts his back to me, and I sense him gathering himself, fortifying, building up his force field.

His shoulders heave with a long exhalation.

“Knox?”

He puts his hand on the doorknob. “What?”

“You’re not ugly. You’re beautiful.”

He pauses but opens the door and slams it shut.

Eventually, I come out of that bathroom after I hear slamming doors and cars driving away. I tiptoe out and find Chance passed out on the couch. Even in sleep, he’s handsome, his full lips parted as he breathes heavily. Beer bottles litter the coffee tables. A half-smoked joint burns in an ashtray. My gaze goes back to him. I should break up with him. Can you even call it breaking up when we aren’t technically dating? His eyes open and he groggily sits up. “Babe…where did you go?” He gives me a squinty look. “Did I screw up? You look weird.”

I sit next to him. “Are you embarrassed by me?”

“No!”

I nod, forging ahead. If I want this, we need to talk. “You keep pressuring me for sex, but I’m not easy, Chance. I want a guy who’s proud to be with me, one who takes me on dates.” I wave my hands around at the mess of his house. “And before you say this was a date, you’re wrong. I want you to come to the group home, meet my brother, and pick me up.”

He recoils then frowns, his forehead scrunching up. “I didn’t realize you were…old-fashioned like that. It’s just the height of football season and being a Shark, we kind of just do what we want…” He trails off, wincing. “That didn’t come out right. I’m sure as shit not talking to any other girls right now, Ava.” He reaches over and cups my nape, pulling our faces close. “Hey, don’t get any crazy ideas of leaving me, okay? We have a game Friday, but Saturday it’s just me and you, feel me? I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” A lopsided grin curves his lips. “And I’m sorry for pressuring you. You’re just so beautiful and I’m horny. Plus, everybody else was getting lucky.”

I give him a wan smile. “Yeah.”

That Saturday night never came, though.

Because on Friday, I went to the keg party.

With a deep breath,I come back to reality and class. I push those moments with Knox away from me.

Not able to help myself, I look back at Chance, feeling that wave of disappointment and anger that inevitably strikes me when I see him.

As if he knows I was thinking about him, he looks at me. His hand is clasped tightly with Brooklyn’s. Oh, how fast he ran to her.

“How you doing, Brooklyn?” I call out. She’s pretty with sleek chestnut hair that curls around her face. Her mouth twists like she’s eating a lemon, ignoring me.

She’s Jolena’s bestie. What did I expect?

Flipping back around, I study Knox’s hard profile. “Pew-pew-pew. That’s me shooting down your troops, you know, those guards you station around yourself so you don’t have to talk to me.”

“Mmmm.”

“He speaks! Or mumbles—I can’t tell.”

“We’re in class,” he says dryly.

“Hasn’t started yet. You know, I was thinking about Patrick Swayze. Ghost, admittedly, is an excellent movie if you like pottery and spirits and crazy mediums. Point Break is my personal favorite of his. The surfing, jumping out of planes, adrenaline junkie, and those abs—sign me up. But Road House, now that’s like top three worst movies ever made. I appreciate his fighting skills, but the storyline—a pacifist slash bouncer? Pfft.”

“What are the other movies on your worst list?” He still won’t look at me, but he leans a miniscule bit closer, just a hair.

“Showgirls. Elizabeth Berkley as a Vegas stripper—no thanks.”

“Not a Saved by the Bell fan?”

“Nope. And it goes without saying Saw I, II, III, IV, V, and VI all suck.”

“What about Saw VII?”

My mouth gapes. “They made another one? Say it ain’t so.”

“So.” He smirks and looks down at his laptop.

He’s almost there. Just needs a little more pushing…

I tap my pen on the table. “How did you get to be the head Shark? You’re a jerk, A-plus on that, but I don’t really see you as part of some hierarchy of school society. You’re really more of a stoic loner, I think. If you weren’t rich, I bet you’d be a gang leader. The Knox Gang. You’d have a cheap shark tattoo on your neck. Real badass.”

Come on, Knox. Break. Show me who you really are.

“Good thing I’m rich.”

“You still jacking off in bathrooms?”

He starts. “You still fingering yourself in tubs?”

“Not lately.”

“Too bad.”

“Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if you hadn’t left that bathroom. I wonder how things might have been different. If I’d gone to that keg party for you, if I’d been with you—”

“Ava, stop. Please.”

Whatever infinitesimal inches of ground I gained have vanished. He scoots his chair away from me.

“Something about me really gets under your skin. What is it? I don’t think it’s the whole she’s a scholarship girl and so not worth my notice angle. Nope, it’s deeper.”

He sighs.

But I don’t want to stop.

“You asked me about Persephone and Hades once. Remember that? It was one of my favorite myths, Hades falling for the beautiful goddess. He wasn’t interested in any of those other she-demons that lurked around his domain. He only wanted her.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s rather romantic in a god and goddess sort of way. He did kidnap her, I suppose, but he loved her, and kidnapping is really minor compared to what some of those other gods did. She loved him deeply in spite of everyone warning her to stay away. She ate those pomegranate seeds because she knew her mother would never let her live in Hell.”

“She only got to live there with him for six months out of the year—then she had to go back to her mother. To me, it sounds like their relationship couldn’t have been that solid.”

“So you do remember.” I let him hear the satisfaction in my voice. “And as far as being solid, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Did you miss me when I was gone?”

My breath hitches as I wait for him to reply, but like the wily devil he is, he avoids my direct question and asks me one instead. He turns and gives me an even better look at his eye, the skin puffy and purple and painful-looking. “I also recall Hades rising up from hell in his black chariot, snatching Persephone, and carting her down to live with dead people. He tricked her into eating those seeds so she’d want to be with him. Is that a sign of a good relationship?”

I shrug. “She was in love with him and she knew it was the only way. Admittedly, he probably scared the bejesus out of her, but she took a chance on her man.”

He grunts. “Really? No one wanted them to be together. None of the gods approved. Who’d love the king of the underworld?”

“The right person.”

He inhales.

Jolena walks past our table and gives Knox a withering look, and I pause.

That black eye…hmmm.

“Your eye has to hurt. It’s like it’s sentient, like it might step right off your face and tell a story. If it did, I’d ask it why the hell Knox Grayson lost control the night of Chance’s party.”

His eyes flare at me.

“Fine. I can tell you’re clamming up as usual. Let’s discuss the fight you obviously got in. I saw my mom with a couple of shiners, you know. Tyler’s dad, Cooper, was a real winner—no job, on drugs, angry. Once, he had her pinned against the wall while he smacked her face. One side. The other. Back and forth. Red welts. Her feet dangled right off the floor, just like in the movies—can you believe it? Vodka bottles rolling—geeze, always with the dang vodka. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, ‘Leave oryou’re next.’ I ran.” My chest rises rapidly at my admission.

He leans in. “Where did you go?”

“I didn’t come home for three days. Went to my inner-city school, ate lunch, and went to the tents at night. There were always open ones I could crawl in and no one would notice, plus it was spring and the weather was nice.”

He scowls. “Shit, Ava. Under the bridge? Anything could have happened to you! Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“Rich kid, please. You don’t get it. If I went to the cops, they’d call social services and put me in another foster home. No thanks. I’ll take the devil I know any day.”

A long exhalation comes from him and I see his hands clench. “What happened when you went back?”

Shrugging, I say, “They were fine, all kissy-kissy. She was pregnant and I was just sticking around for my little brother to arrive anyway.” I pause. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s still alive.”

“What about your dad?” His eyes search my face.

“Ha. He was the lottery winner. He left Mama before I was ever born. Last I heard, he worked on an oil rig in the Gulf.”

A brief frown flits over his face, then it softens, his lips parting.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Knox. I have Tyler. He’s mine. He’s everything.” I touch my locket and his eyes follow the movement, his gaze drifting over me until I feel flushed, until surely he can see I’m not thinking about anything but him and how he makes me want to tear off his mask—

I clear my throat. “You really should put some ice on that, or a steak or something. Don’t you have a minion who will run to get you whatever you want? Tylenol? Blowjob?”

His lips twitch.

“Did you get in a tussle over a girl? Doesn’t seem like your style, to be honest. You keep tight control on your emotions—that is, unless you’re under the bleachers.” I flash him a grin.

He reddens but gives me an amused smirk.

Piper dashes over, pushing her cute glasses up on her nose, and I give her a surprised look, so caught up in Knox that I realize I’m barely aware of anyone else in class. She gives me a hug, and some of the dread from walking through the entrance today fades away. “Girlfriend, the dorm news is so awesome! Score! You’re only five minutes from me now! Party time. We can study together too!” She does a little fist pump in the air. She looks over her shoulder when Dane walks in and takes his seat at their table. “Oh, great. My pompous partner is here. He is so…ugh. Gotta go. I’ll come by tonight and we’ll celebrate with Mountain Dew and Taco Bell—your favorite, right? I’ll bring them. Talk later, ’kay?”

And then she’s bouncing away and plopping down in her seat next to him.

He gives me a long look. “Her parents are the ones who took you to the hospital, right?”

How…

He smirks. “Your mouth is open.”

I close my lips. “You’re so weird. I never thought you ever paid any attention to my comings and goings. Also I never told anyone that. Maybe she did?” I eye him warily.

“No. I asked about you once. She told me to jump off a building and stab myself on the way down.”

“Sounds like her—cute but sassy.” I look back at Piper. She’s glaring at Dane, and I distinctly hear her say, “Just watch the stupid movie already, jockass. Yes, the spider dies. I’m sorry you can’t handle it! God, you are such a baby.”

Dane just looks at her like she’s an alien. I bet he’s never even talked to her at Camden, and now he’s stuck.

I turn back, laughing a little.

“I’m glad she’s your friend,” Knox murmurs.

“Even with Piper, I feel so weird here, like I’m on the outside looking in. I’m not the same anymore.”

He stills and I tense up.

Gah, why am I blabbing so much? I just can’t seem to stop.

“But you…you rule the school,” I say. “Girls adore you. Guys are envious. Everyone wants to be next to you, wants to bask in your glory. You’re never lonely. Praise be.”

“Mmmm.”

Oh my God, his noncommittal answers are driving me up the freaking wall!

Mrs. White still hasn’t started class yet. I wish she would so I’d shut up.

“So tell me about the shiner,” I say.

He lets out a heavy sigh and leans in closer, closer, until I can smell his ocean scent.

“Someone pissed me off.”

“Obviously, but who would dare?” I make a pretend gasp and clutch my heart.

He huffs out a laugh. “You keep surprising me, Tulip.”

I’m about to comment—with what, I don’t know, but I do know I enjoy sparring with him—when Mrs. White dims the lights and begins The Wizard of Oz.

“Today we’re going to watch an iconic movie, and I want you to take notes on the metaphors and symbolism you see…” I tune her out, having a hard time concentrating, my mind still on Knox.

He passes me a note, his handwriting neat and careful. He didn’t use script writing, though, choosing to print the letters. We still on to watch Dirty Dancing soon?

I glance up to make sure Mrs. White isn’t looking; she’s settled in at her desk and looking over a textbook.

Sure. Nine good? Tomorrow? We can use FaceTime if we want to talk while it’s playing? Or we can just chat after it’s over? I don’t care.I slide the note back over to him.

Hmmm…if you don’t care, why don’t we just watch it together? I think that would be easier than trying to FaceTime. That way we can bounce ideas around for the essay and take notes. More organic. You can come to my house. Suzy will be there if you want a chaperone. She’s kind of our nanny/manager.

I read it over twice to make sure I didn’t misunderstand him.

Cold and Evil wants to watch it together? With his nanny? Good Lord. He still has one? I smirk. And at his house? I assumed we’d watch separately and then figure it out later. That’s what we agreed to.

I look around to make sure I’m not in a parallel universe.

Dorothy plays on the screen, but I’m not really watching. I sit for a full five minutes, thinking about my response, and I notice that the longer I pause, tapping my pen on the note, the more antsy he becomes, legs bouncing under the table, his fingers drumming against the desk. Still holding his note, I dart my eyes over at him. He’s watching me. Carefully. Intently. Little side glances. Almost grudgingly, as if he really doesn’t want to.

He bites down on that lush bottom lip of his, and warm tingles move through my body as my heart picks up. There’s a fluttery feeling in my stomach—

No.I pass my response over to him.

Why? he sends back.

You know why. You’re one of them. You’re THE SHARK.

So? I just fill a role here. People want someone to fear. Am I so terrible? Didn’t I help you with your tire?

You did. Thank you. No.

He lets out an exhalation, scribbling his response, then passing it over. I got into a fight with Liam. That’s why I have a black eye. Not a big deal.

Huh. I guess football players tussle a lot.

I send him a reply.

Does he look worse than you? What was the fight about?

He reads it and shoves a hand through his dark hair.

I wait, almost expectantly, for him to write a reply, but I get nada.

In fact, he ignores me for the rest of class, and when the bell rings, he jumps up and darts away. I watch his broad shoulders maneuver through the crowd, jostling to get out of the classroom. A few guys call out his name and he waves at them. Then I see Tawny. She waltzes in and latches onto his arm, aligning herself with him. She’s not a cheerleader, but she’s the kind of beautiful that makes your eyes linger while you wonder what kind of genetics created such startling perfection. Luxurious golden brown hair to her waist, a soft oval face, a delicate nose—it’s all very pleasing to the eye. Ugh.

He pauses, looks down at her with a frown, and then stares back at me.

I arch my brow.

Now that’s the kind of girl who jumps at the chance to come to your house, my eyes say.

I give him a thumbs-up while he studies me. He hesitates then tosses an arm around her shoulders. They pause at the entrance as other students maneuver to walk around them, but Knox doesn’t care; he blocks any door he wants.

I see profiles when they turn, talking. His sharp jawline, the glossy hair my fingers touched. Her hand skims his neck. She tilts her face up and stands on her tiptoes. She’s asking him something. I know that look in her eyes. She likes him, a lot.

And then…

Surprise ripples over me. I see them at the keg party last year, his hand tucked in the pocket of her jeans as they left the party.

But…Wait, wait, back up.

First I kissed Chance.

My heart pounds and I flinch as the details that were once locked away slide into perfect clarity. Closing my eyes, focusing on concentrating, I let the images creep in. Chance’s kiss, long and deep and sweet. My immediate response to the pressure of his lips, delving into his mouth. How badly I wanted our date the next night. He was going to pick me up and take me to dinner. It might seem silly to want something so simple, but for a girl like me—one who’s never had big things—it’s the little things that take up room in my heart: soft rain, starry nights, shy looks, leaves falling, a good movie, Tyler’s smile, chocolate cake—and a date with your guy.

I love you, Ava, Chance said in my ear, his hands curling around my waist, holding me like I was porcelain.

He kissed me and said that and I didn’t even remember! Holy shit. I blink.

I was already trashed, but the words are vivid now, a hot brand in my head. And what was my response? No clue, but I lifted my head from Chance’s shoulder and instead of meeting his lips again, I met the gray eyes of Knox Grayson glittering at me. Only two feet away. I could have reached up, stretched out my arms, and touched his unsmiling face. I could have unfurled his clenched fists.

He took a deep breath as our gazes clung.

Chance kissed my neck, and I trembled when I looked at Knox and he let me see…he let me see…a window inside himself. Anguish mingled with want. Longing.

Standing there by the fire, with Tawny by his side, he pressed two fingers to his lips and sent the touch to me. With twenty-twenty vision, without the alcohol clouding me, I saw him, saw the slow, regretful way he tore his eyes off of me and Chance.

Then—just like now—he tossed an arm around Tawny, escorted her to his car, and opened the door for her. He disappeared. And I…I was left behind.

My eyes find them now at the doorway. They haven’t moved.

He bends his head to her—my chest squeezes—getting lower and lower. My breathing intensifies. Unbidden anxiety ratchets down my spine.

I resist the urge to stamp my foot.

Look at me like that again, I want to shout.

Someone bumps into me.

Another nudge, this time on my arm. “…Ava…are you listening?”

The male voice penetrates and I start, glancing over.

“What?” I snap at Chance. He’s been standing there for a while. My hands, which have been clinging to the edge of the table, loosen their grip, and my back straightens. I toss a look around him. “Where’s Brooklyn?”

He flushes. “She left already. Ava…” He stops, his mouth opening and shutting.

“What do you want?” I gather my purse off the back of the chair. I need out of here. I don’t want to rehash that night, and I can feel him psyching himself up for something.

“You hurt me,” are the words he finally pushes out.

What fresh hell?

“I hurt you?”

He tries to hold my eyes but dips his head. “I can’t take it anymore. You’ve only been here two days and I can’t…” He trails off.

“Can’t what?”

His head rises. He struggles to speak, the words pulled from him. He looks as if he’s in some kind of crisis. I almost think he weaves on his feet. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Now?”

He nods.

I blow out a breath. “Really? Where were you when I needed you, huh? You weren’t thinking then. You left me at that party to hook up with your current girlfriend.” Somehow I keep my voice even, almost calm, but I feel the rage lingering, just waiting to pounce.

Shame—or at least I want to think it’s shame—colors his face.

Bitterness whips in the air like a tornado. I know I shouldn’t engage with him, but maybe I need closure. We never got that. I got his text and wrote him off.

“Tell me something, how could you tell me I love you one minute then leave me at that party the next? A brave person would have believed me. Cowards pussy out, Chance. You quit me like I was trash. Even now, I can’t believe I let you get so close to my heart…” I bite my lip, shaken by the torrent of words that have come out of me. I did let him close. God. I let myself be vulnerable for him.

He swallows, blue eyes downcast. “I’m sorry—”

I cut him off right there. “Yeah. You are. And the worst thing of all is maybe it was you. Maybe it was you.” My voice breaks, just a little, and I snatch it back.

He nods as if he expected that but sucks in a breath. “It wasn’t. I’m not capable of that. You know me. I’ve been thinking—”

“Please don’t.”

“I can’t stop it, Ava.” His eyes flick to the doorway, where Knox and Tawny still are. I can see them in my peripheral. “And everything Knox has done and said was right, and I’ve been wrong. I am sorry. You’re right about me. I messed up. I should have made you stop drinking, been more protective, or made sure I left with you—”

“But you didn’t. Ha.”

What has Knox done and said?

His eyes close briefly. “I’ve never been in that situation. I never cared about a girl like you. I didn’t dream someone I knew, a friend of mine, would hurt you—”

“Save your apology!”

“I know! I hate it, okay? I hate it! I can’t change how I reacted!” His voice rises, but there’s no one here to hear us. The room is empty except for that maddening couple at the doorway. I refuse to look at them, but I can feel them there like a dark shadow.

“I always thought I was a strong person, but I’m not,” he adds as he scrubs his face. “Ava, please.” His chest rises, expands. “I’ve…missed you. I’ve imagined you in the hallway a hundred times. I didn’t play one football game without looking at the sidelines and wishing you were there. I’ve played back that night in my head over and over, but I was drunk too, and I wasn’t thinking right. You ran off to dance, and all I saw was you at your first Shark kegger, leaving me for someone better. I didn’t do the right thing. I reacted like a sniveling, jealous asshole. I let you down and you got hurt.”

Ugly emotion tightens my throat and I kick it down.

He closes his eyes. “Tell me how to make it better.”

I scowl at him, really looking at him. The way his sandy hair is full and thick, how my fingers felt brushing through the wet strands after a game. His strong shoulders when he hugged me so tight. All the little notes he’d leave for me in my locker. You’re beautiful was the first one. I’ll be yours, if you ask was the second. And then, I dream of you more often than I should. Oh, I recall them and that last one got to me. So good. To imagine he wanted me… I imagined us at prom, at college together, me walking down an aisle toward him. Who was that girl? I got foolish. I forgot life isn’t kittens and rainbows.

“I know it’s too late to change anything—”

“Stop. Just stop talking. Don’t come near me and I swear to do the same.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I do!”

He flinches, looking like he might say something else, but he dunks his head and brushes past me.

My chest heaves. Big breath in. Long sigh out.

I hear the warning bell and other kids rush in from the hall to take the seats around me. I dash to the door and Knox and Tawny are still there. WTF. Go already!

She has him pressed against the wall, her manicured, red-tipped hands dancing over his chest as she daintily frowns at the bruise on his face.

His eyes cling to me. Knowledge gleams there, of my conversation with Chance. First-row seats to that little show—was it on purpose? Maybe. It feels like Knox always has a reason for everything.

I’m about to pass them when I stop and turn back around. I ignore Tawny and glare at him. “Tomorrow night. Vanderbilt library. I’ll meet you on the steps at seven and we can watch the movie together in one of the study rooms. I have an ID because I used to go last year when I was doing homeschool stuff.”

“Alright,” he says softly, his eyes studying my face, as if looking to see if I’m okay. He moves Tawny away from him, literally pushes her shoulders until she’s fuming prettily. She sends me a little glare and whispers in his ear. I definitely hear bleachers in her rush of words. He shakes his head at her.

I smirk.

She saunters off and I watch her, but when I turn back, he’s got those gray eyes on me.

“Should we eat first?” he asks.

“Please. This is not a date.”

“Agreed, but my stomach will growl. It might disturb the other people studying. Plus, I’ll be fresh from practice, and I get queasy if I don’t get protein.”

He is…ugh.

My hand goes to my hip. “First I have to drag it out of you to hear what happened to your eye, and then you want to watch this stupid movie together. Now you insist on eating.”

“It’s just food. Why can’t we eat? If you came to my house, Suzy would make us dinner.”

Nope. Not going to a Shark’s house.

“Meet me at Lou’s Diner and we’ll drive over from there. The restaurant is on Elm Street in Nashville. Happy?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Just two students watching an iconic romantic movie for a class. It’s a plan, Tulip.”

“See you, Cold and Evil.” I walk out the door.

Why did I do that? is racing through my head as I leave.

I blame it on Chance and his half-assed apology.

Maybe that memory of how Knox looked at me.

Whatever.

I push it aside and pick up my steps as I jog down the hall. Crap. I’m going to be late for English. Mr. Banks is old, though, and it takes him a few minutes to get his roll out. I can sneak in and sit in the back. I dash down the mostly empty corridor to my locker, my steps picking up when I see Brandon Wilkes, one of the football players. All crazy red hair and jacked muscles, he slows as he passes me and sends me a leer. He flips around, sliding black eyes over me as he walks backward. “Get the message, snitch. We don’t want you here.”

“Asshole,” I mutter and keep marching.

It’s not until I reach my locker that it makes sense. Scribbled in black marker on my silver locker are the words LEAVE SLUT.

My mouth dries. Nausea boils in my stomach. That word. That fucking word.

Someone is behind me, and she laughs.

No matter how many times I walk through the doors of Camden, they’ll never forget who I am and what happened to me—

Shake it off. No self-pity allowed. Zero.

With fumbling fingers, I open the lock, take out my book, and slam it shut.

When I turn, Jolena is there, eyes sparkling. She holds her hands up. “Don’t blow up at me. I didn’t do it, but boy do I like it.”

The final bell rings. We’re late to class.

She doesn’t move, smiling still.

I tilt my head toward my locker. “You think that bothers me?” It KILLS ME. Loneliness sucks at me and I clench my fists. “What a joke. At least it’s not, oh, I don’t know—a violation of my body. Yeah, that is so much worse. Plus, the missing comma is deplorable. Whoever wrote it is an idiot.”

“Stay away from the football players, Ava,” she calls to my back as I walk away. “And I don’t just mean Liam. Knox too. He belongs to us. Don’t forget it.”

How can I forget?

On trembling legs, I walk to the office and find Mrs. Carmichael. In a toneless voice I stare at her flowered blouse and tell her what’s on my locker, and she murmurs words I barely hear. “Oh, no, terrible…kids these day…so sorry for you. I’ll get maintenance on it, I’m sure we have something to remove it…” Blah, blah, blah.

She hands me a note to class and I accept it then run to the bathroom, finding the last stall and sitting on the toilet, my legs tucked up so no one can see me. My stomach rolls, thick and heavy, and I shove it down.

I call the elementary campus and ask for Dr. Rivers. Time passes, but I don’t care how long it takes until her voice is on the line and I ask to speak to Tyler. She tells me no, they don’t pull students from class to talk on the phone. I tell her I need to hear his voice just for one minute, and can’t I please, please, please just talk to him, and eventually I say I don’t think I can get up and go to class until I hear his voice. There’s a long silence until finally, Tyler comes, and I hear him talking to Dr. Rivers, some shuffling, and then his tiny breathy voice on the line, saying hello, and I close my eyes.

“How’s your first day, bozo?” My voice isn’t right, but at least I have it.

“Balls! It’s amazing!” I feel the smile on his face all the way from his school. “We’re doing science and I got a partner and we got to lay down on this long paper and outline each other and now we’re gonna use yarn to make the blood vessels! Isn’t that cool? Isn’t it?” He sighs.

“So cool.”

He goes on and on and we make a plan for him to come eat tacos with me and Piper tonight, and it’s well past the minute I told Dr. Rivers, and then he’s gone and she’s on the line, asking if I’m okay, and should she call Mr. Trask, and I lie and tell her I’ll be fine. I hang up and touch my cheeks to make sure they’re dry; they are, thank God, because please, I don’t want to cry.

Not here in this godforsaken place.

Walking out of the stall, I look at myself in the mirror. Pale. Too skinny. Dark shadows under my eyes. Black hair. I’d be goth if not for the bright uniform. From my purse, I fish out my red lipstick and slide it on, considering my reflection. I can be strong for Tyler. I can make this shitty road mine. Own it. Use it. And someday, someday, I’ll have a beautiful road, smooth and easy and perfect.

“So you aren’t going to let these assholes get to you, Ava?” I say to the scared girl in the mirror.

“No. Not yet. I’m not quitting. Only cowards quit.”

Whipping out a marker, I leave a little message on the wall with hearts around it.

Then I walk out and go to class.