Dear Ava by Ilsa Madden-Mills

18

“Here comes Darth Vader and Tyler. They’re getting out of the nun-mobile,” Lou says as I walk by with a platter of two burgers and fries for a two-top. Moving fast, I set down the couple’s food then bus another table on the way back.

“It’s a van. A regular van,” I tell Lou.

He grimaces. “They should paint a habit on the hood. Or a starship.”

“You’re a weirdo,” I call out to him, watching as Sister Margaret and Tyler make their way to the front door of the diner.

He throws his arms up. “I’m a nonpracticing Catholic. She’s a nun. It feels like she knows I don’t go to Mass. Don’t they have God on speed dial? She probably knows I’m divorced too,” he mutters.

I bite my lip.

Rosemary, the cook, calls out from behind the grill in the kitchen. “You also drink and cuss like a sailor and take the Lord’s name in vain—”

“Be quiet! She’s about to come in!” Lou shouts back. He lingers behind the register, one eye on the door. He snaps his fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot—a lady brought this by today when I opened up. I think it’s a tip.” He hands me a note. “She said to be sure you got it.”

I tuck it in my apron to look at later.

My thoughts go to Knox. He texted me earlier today and told me he was sorry he had to leave school, but Dane wasn’t feeling well, and he’d text me later tonight when I got off work.

Tyler comes in and rushes over to me, and I give him a tight hug.

“How was school? Did you learn anything cool?”

He grins. “They showed me new ways to remember stuff, like I know all the letters. Just say one—I know it.”

“T.”

“Yes, that’s one. Say another.”

“Y.”

“Yep!”

“L.”

“Know it!”

“E.”

“Yeah.”

“R!”

He squints. “Balls. Did you spell my name?”

“Don’t say balls, and yes I did!” I ruffle his hair. “Do you know what order all the letters go in?”

He adjusts his glasses.

“It’s a song, bozo. You used to sing it.”

He tugs at his shirt. “A, B, C, D…” He goes all the way to T before getting a little confused, but he eventually finishes with Z.

I swing him up and he squeals. Lou and a couple of customers clap.

Sister Margaret smiles. “He regaled the entire wing of boys this afternoon.”

I feel myself glowing from the inside out.

On my dinner break, I place an order for us and we take a table in the back. I’ve just gotten the first French fry in my mouth when in walk Wyatt and Piper. I texted them earlier to see if they had dinner plans.

Piper bounces over and gives Tyler a squeeze. “Give me a hug, big boy!”

They order food at the counter and take a seat with us. Sister Margaret murmurs that she has emails to catch up with on her phone and wanders off to the front. Lou’s eyes widen as she approaches, then he scurries off to the back.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Wyatt says dryly, flexing one of his muscles again so Tyler can watch the hummingbirds on his bicep flutter.

“No one called me names today, I’m seeing Tyler, and Lou is terrified of nuns. It’s been a great day.”

“Sooooo, Knox,” comes from Piper. “Is this serious?”

I have no clue. “It’s a one day at a time kind of thing.”

“And it’s really true that he paid for your housing? Isn’t that kind of weird? I mean, do you feel like you owe him?” I confessed in film class today about Knox being my donor.

“Not in favors, if you get my drift, but I’ll pay him back. I’ve gotten almost three thousand in tips saved this year,” I say.

Piper looks around at the dingy diner. “Girl, you’re gonna have to wait a lot more tables to get to ten grand.”

True, but I can do it. It will just take some time.

“He wrote you that secret admirer letter, so I’m not so sure he wants you to pay him back,” Wyatt says with an eye waggle. “He’s rich—let him take care of you.”

Let him take care of me? Um, no.

Piper scowls. “I don’t know about him. He’s the Shark, and he was mean to you last year. Remember that time he scared you in the locker room after the game?”

Hmmm, I remember, though maybe I wasn’t actually that scared.

She continues. “I mean, you’re not very experienced, and everyone says he’s this bad boy who only has sex from—” She throws a hand over her mouth and looks at Tyler, who’s humming his ABCs. “Crap,” she whispers. “Little ears. I’ll rein it in.”

Wyatt laughs, sipping on a Coke. “So, Ava, does he only do it that way?”

A slow blush steals up my cheeks when I think back to last night. “I plead the fifth.”

Piper rolls her eyes. “Well, enough about the Shark. I have news! It’s incredible! It’s…” She pauses, takes a drink, and holds up her index finger in a wait a minute motion.

“What is it, bozo?” Tyler asks, and I snicker and elbow him.

“Piper likes to drag things out for maximum effect. Give her a drumroll.”

Tyler beats his hands on the table, and Wyatt and I pick it up.

Piper lets her straw go. Purses her lips. “Well, you know how bad I want to go to Vandy, but we don’t have the money, and since most of the scholarships are only half of admission, I wrote a letter to my uncle in Seattle who went there and became a doctor. Never got married and is filthy rich. You met him at Christmas once, Ava.”

She has a ton of relatives and I’ve met several at holiday functions.

She titters. “I asked him very prettily if he would consider making up the difference on a scholarship and he said…YES!”

My lips part. Visions of Vandy dance in my head and jealousy rises up for half a second before I battle it back. Piper deserves the best.

“Whoa,” I say, totaling up a year in my head. Tuition is roughly $48,000; room and board is $18,000; books and miscellaneous is $1500; other random expenses are $2500. A year at Vandy is over $100,000, so half of that would be $50,000. She has a nice uncle.

“Nice,” murmurs Wyatt.

“Where are you thinking of going?” Piper says to me.

“Community college, then a state school, probably. I haven’t gotten all my applications straight. But Vandy—I’m so happy for you. Congrats, Piper.” I stuff a fry in and swallow it down. Don’t be sad, don’t be. I smile at her.

“What about you, Wyatt?” Piper beams.

He cocks his head. “Somewhere in Nashville so I can be close to my mom. Maybe Vandy. I haven’t worked it out yet. I’d like to play baseball somewhere.”

My heart dips as I think of Piper and Wyatt going off to big-time schools without me.

Tyler leans in over the table toward Wyatt. “Did those tattoos hurt?”

“Yes,” he replies solemnly. “I don’t recommend it for a six-year-old.”

“Balls.”

Wyatt snorts. “Ava mentioned you’re an artist?”

“I draw,” Tyler deadpans.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve been thinking about getting a new one, a dragon for our school mascot. Can you draw that?” Wyatt gives him a steely look, and I smile seeing Tyler’s spine grow straighter.

“He’s throwing down a challenge, Tyler,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth.

Tyler sets down his burger, wipes his hands on his pants, and gives Wyatt a long look. I think I see myself in his eyes. Determination.

“I can draw you the bestest dragon you have ever seen. What colors do you want?”

“Kickass,” I murmur. “You should see this kid—freaking amazing.”

Wyatt grins at Tyler. “Red and gold. You draw it and I’ll see if I like it.”

“Deal!” They shake on it.

“Carrot cake!” Lou calls out as he approaches our table with a platter. “It’s gonna go bad tomorrow so somebody’s gotta eat it!” He pauses at the looks on our faces. “That’s a joke. It’s good for at least two more days.”

Tyler says he doesn’t want any carrots on his cake, so Wyatt takes his piece. I laugh as I see Lou box up the rest and hand it over to Sister Margaret to take back to the other Darth Vaders or whoever else might want it.

After everyone leaves, I’m watching their taillights when Lou eases up next to me. “You’ve done good, Ava. He’s happy. You’ve got friends. You’re gonna be okay, right?”

“Yes.” I sigh. Lou knows everything since I had to take a few weeks off after the keg party, and while he isn’t the type to give hugs, he pats me carefully on the back.

It’s ten by the time I pull up at the dorm, park, and get out, thankful for the good streetlights in the area as I fast-walk to the front entrance.

“Ava,” comes a male voice on my right, and I nearly jump into the bushes.

“Knox! What in the blue hell! You nearly scared me out of my shoes—”

He’s leaning back against his car before he straightens and jogs over to me. “I wasn’t thinking. Sorry. I texted you I’d be here, but you must have been driving.”

Wearing low-slung jeans and a tight Dragons shirt, he towers over me. Dark hair frames his face.

“You look good,” he says gruffly, running his eyes over my frayed shorts and Lizzo shirt.

I laugh, knowing I probably smell like grease from the diner. My smile subsides when I take in his expression. “What’s up?”

He seems to gather himself and smiles. “Just missed you.”

A blush steals up my face, recalling us naked in my bed. Was it just last night? It seems a million miles away. “I missed you too. How’s Dane?”

He takes a deep breath. “He’s messed up. When I got home this morning, he…he was at the lowest I’ve ever seen him. He wanted to die, and I-I didn’t know what to do.”

Oh, Knox… “I’m so sorry! Is he okay? Is there anything I can do?”

He flinches and looks away from me, scanning the parking lot. “No. My dad’s home with him—” He stops when several underclassmen rush out the front doors and call out to him. He gives them a half-hearted wave.

“Do you want to come upstairs and talk? I can sneak you in the side entrance—”

He shuffles his feet on the concrete, still not meeting my eyes. “Nah, I need to go home. Dad, Dane, and I…we’re still going over some things and talking. We’ve needed to for a long time. Maybe…maybe it was a good thing that Dane cracked. Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can crawl back up.” He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair.

“True. Maybe his breakdown can be a breakthrough.”

His gaze is firmly focused on a point over my shoulder and when I look back, there’s nothing there. Why is he avoiding my eyes?

“Do you regret last night?” I blurt.

“No, but…” He exhales and sticks his hands in his jeans. “Ava, I really want this thing we have, but maybe we’re moving too fast.”

Moving too fast?

After last night?

My chest feels tight. “Is this…a brushoff?”

He closes his eyes. “Please, don’t ever think that. I just need a minute to breathe.” He scrubs his face. “Dane needs me, and there’s a lot going on right now.”

A minute to breathe?

Is he…is he trying to destroy my heart?

Those walls are stacking up around him, those armored tanks pointed right at me.

And he’s calling me Ava.

Please, no, don’t do that, Knox. I can’t handle you hurting me, not after what we’ve shared…

I study the lines of his face, his granite expression, and it reminds me of the way he shut down after the library. “What are you not telling me, Knox?”

I think I see fear flicker on his face before he turns it off. “Nothing. I’ll be spotty at school tomorrow. Dane’s got therapy and I’m coming in late so Dad and I can go with him.” He pauses. “Our first game is tomorrow, and I want you to come, but I understand if you don’t.”

“I won’t be there.”

“Don’t blame you,” he says quietly, sighing.

“I hope Dane’s okay.” I know I’m saying all the right words, but I feel lost, wondering what’s really going on in his head.

Several moments pass as neither of us speaks.

I sigh and say, “I should head inside—”

“I didn’t want to go to sleep tonight without seeing you again.”

I give him a half-smile. “You’ve seen me. I’m tired and I still have homework waiting on me.” I pause. “I’m here if you need me, if you decide you want to talk about Dane.”

I turn to leave and he grabs my hand. “Ava…”

My control snaps. “Don’t call me that, okay? It just means you’re pushing me away, and I hate it.”

He exhales heavily. “Tulip…please. It’s been a hell of a day.”

I close my eyes.

His brother needs him, Ava. They’re close. Get yourself together.

It’s just…

I take a big breath. “You’ve had a tough day, but you coming here and telling me you need a minute right after last night—it hurts. If it’s about Dane, I get it, but if you’re not telling me everything, I’m not sure who you are.”

He pulls me to him and wraps his strong arms around me. “You know me, Tulip. You do.”

I press my head against his chest, listening to his heart beat as he runs his fingers through my hair. He tilts my face up and kisses me softly. “Don’t be mad at me, please,” he whispers. “Just give me some time.”

I nod, battling that uneasy feeling rolling around inside my gut. He isn’t telling me everything, but I don’t ask the questions that are on the tip of my tongue.

I’m taking a chance on him, because this is the guy who wrote me a beautiful letter, and that’s enough—for now.