Authors: Kendall Ryan
When we reach the bowling alley, all promises of a low key evening go up in smoke
. Delta Sig has rented out half the place for a private party.
You have got to be kidding me.
I pause at the entrance and Madison looks past me to the group of obnoxiously drunk guys taking up half the bowling alley.
“Did you know?” I turn to her.
“No. I swear. We can go somewhere different if you want.”
Noah
takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’re not running away this time, love. You got this.”
I nod.
“Yeah. Okay.” I think I can do this.
Noah
pays for our lane while Madison and I go get fitted for our hideous bowling shoes. Madison leads the way back to our lane, which is thankfully on the opposite side from the Delta Sig guys. I see don’t Jase. It’s possible he’s not here. But either way, I know I won’t be able to relax with the promise of his presence looming in the background.
Seeing him in the flesh
would force up feelings I can’t manage right now. I thought I was healing, but his presence assures me that was not the case. Far from it. I miss his hugs that lifted me clear off the floor, his stupid nickname for me, the sexy gleam in his eye when he wanted to kiss me…
I select a ball and when I turn, I
spot Jase and Stacia across the room.
Ugh. As if seeing him isn’t bad enough…
Stacia wraps her arms around his waist and, even though his hands remain loose at his sides, he does nothing to stop her roaming hands from mauling him. The pain of watching them together stabs at my chest. Maybe I’d overestimated everything we’d shared. Perhaps he and Stacia have always been more than just friendly exes and I refused to see it. Just as Stacia pointed out to me once before, he and I were never exclusive. That doesn’t mean the ache of losing him hurts any less. Especially the way it went down. The icy look in his eyes, the flat tone of his voice – I’ll never forget that.
Jase
leans down and whispers something in Stacia’s ear and she bursts out laughing, swatting his arm. Watching this doesn’t help my heartache any.
I set the bowling
ball down before I drop it on my foot, then I turn to Madison and Noah. “I was wrong. I need to go.” I have to get out of here before I do something awkward, like start crying in the middle of the bowling alley. Lord, this is ridiculous.
They exchange a glance and nod in silent understanding.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Noah agrees. “These shoes are a total travesty with these slacks.” He makes a point of looking down at the multi-colored shoes and bright red skinny jeans in disgust.
I smile at his half-hearted attempt to make me laugh. I link my arm with Madison’s and tuck my chin to my chest, hoping that Jase won’t spot me fleeing into the night.
* * *
I
am done with lying. So when I call my dads requesting they drive my car up to campus, I could tell them I’d changed my mind about wanting my car with me, or that I got a part time job off campus, like I’d talked about doing. But instead, I make them both get on speaker phone and I tell them the truth. I’ve been in contact with my birthmom through email and am planning to go and meet her in Denver during our upcoming school break.
Their silence
is the longest ten seconds of my life. They ultimately agree, saying they knew I’d want to do this eventually, that it’s only natural to wonder about where you came from. Humans are wired to want to understand their identity and lineage. They don’t like the idea of me going alone, so it takes some convincing, but eventually they come around. I’m not quite sure they are completely onboard with the idea, because they worry about me being disappointed, or hurt, and not to mention driving halfway across the country by myself. But I insist and they relent.
They
drive into town on Sunday to drop off my reliable little red sedan, briefly meet Madison and Noah, take me out to lunch and spend the afternoon plotting out my route, covering safety basics on the road, and make me promise to call every day.
They’ve
been way cooler than I ever imagined which makes me feel worse that I considered lying to them. I wonder if they would react so well if I’d kept this from them, and they found out later, from someone other than me. No, I know they’d be livid if that was the case. I can’t help but see the similarity about how Jase had found out about my past. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter, and his reaction told me everything. I wonder if things would be different if I’d just told him myself from the beginning. It’s too late now. Jase has cast me away like some diseased whore. I am damaged goods in his eyes, and I shouldn’t be pining over a guy who doesn’t want me. Of course, I wish it was that simple. My body still remembers his touch, and my heart still aches over what has been so cruelly ripped from me.
My computer pings with a new email, and for a brief little second I wonder if it
is from Jase. Crossing the room, I stare at my computer screen in disbelief.
Brent?
Why is he contacting me? He went away to school in Florida on a basketball scholarship. At one time, I thought it would suck going to college in two different states. Now, an entire ocean isn’t far enough.
I click on the message.
Hey Avery,
You’ll probably delete this without reading it. I know I don’t deserve the chance to explain, but I’ve been thinking about everything lately and I wanted to apologize. I did care for you, and I never meant for things to get out like that. I showed a couple guys from the team your sexy photos and, before I knew it, they were everywhere. For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I know your senior year sucked after that. You’re probably over it, but I wanted you to know.
Brent
I hate that I’ve been carrying around so much hurt and anger for two years. I hate that I’ve allowed him to rob me of any time. It sounds rather stupid now that I think about it. I delete the message without responding, deciding I’m done wasting my time on
asshats like Brent. I’m over wasting any of my time worrying about crap I can’t change. Straightening my shoulders, a slow smile curls on my lips. This is a whole new Avery. I am woman, hear me roar!
Jase
I drag the phone away from my ear at the shrill of laughter. It’s great hearing my mom so chipper, but no one needs this much information on the latest romance novel her book club is reading, least of all her son.
Gah…
My dad
has returned from China and we even manage to exchange a few friendly words over the phone before he hands it over to my mom. To my surprise, he thanks me for coming home to check on her while he was away. I didn’t think he’d notice or care, so it’s good to know he did.
“How’s Avery?” Mom asks next. “I told your dad how pretty and sweet she
is.”
Shit.
Just hearing her name is like a kick to the gut. I try to decide what to say next. “Ah…She and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“Jase Alexander Owen
s. What did you do to screw things up?”
“Nice
, Mom. Thanks for automatically assuming it was me.”
She’s quiet for a second, but I can tell she won’t just let this drop, like I’m silently begging her to do. “That girl was sweet as pie, Jase
, and I could tell how you two felt about each other. What happened?”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my rioting nerves. “Let’s just say, she was hiding some major skeletons in her closet and she wasn’t who I thought she was.” It
sounds like a bullshit excuse when I say it out loud. I don’t know if I’m hurt because Avery didn’t trust me with the truth after I’d been so open with her, or if I’m just hurt that I wasn’t the first to be with her.
“Jase, we all have things in our pasts we wish we could take back.
You, me, and I know your dad regrets how he handled things with you. But we don’t just cut people out of our lives when they make mistakes. I thank God every day that you forgave me. And heaven knows, over the years, you’ve made your fair share of mistakes, too.”
Shit
fuck.
I can’t argue. “I guess it was more
how
I found out. I wish Avery would have trusted me enough to come to me herself with the story.”
“Yes, I get it. But did you ask her why she didn’t come to you? Give her a chance to explain herself? Maybe she was going to tell you, or maybe she had a good reason why she thought she couldn’t.”
Dammit. I hate it when my mom’s right.
Her
voice softens. “Just have one more conversation with her, Jase. That’s one of my biggest regrets – I wish I would have talked more openly about things with you and your dad. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“I love you
, Mom.”
Now drop it.
“Love you more,
Jasey. So, are you going to talk to her?”
“We’ll see.” After how I treated her, I don’t know if Avery
will still want to talk to me. And then there’s the matter of admitting to her that I fucked up that one night by letting Stacia into my bed. I doubt she’ll be happy about that.
“Okay, bye
, honey,” Mom says.
I hang up and stare
at the phone in my hands. It’d be too simple just to call her. What would I say, though? I’ve kept in touch with her friend Madison so that I can keep tabs on how Avery’s doing. Just because she isn’t mine doesn’t mean I don’t worry about her. I know my Mom’s advice is going to ring in my head until I talk to Avery one last time.
Avery
Feeling sorry for
myself isn’t working – neither is pretending my past will go away. It won’t. Even if I transfer to a school in Alaska, and no one knows, I will know. And that’s what I hate most. I hate living with the regret – having something I can never take back. It might sound strange, but I’m disappointed in myself, and I’m tired of living with that feeling.
Maybe that’s what this little ro
ad trip will provide – the chance to think, to get away from everything for a few days, leave all my crappy baggage behind. When I return, I won’t be the same girl. I’ll know my mom, for one. And I’ll work on forgiving myself. With each mile I drive, I’ll leave my past behind me. So I took some sexy pictures with my boyfriend? I wasn’t going to let that own me. Not anymore.
While other college kids are getting ready for a fun Friday night out, I’m preparing
for a twelve hour drive to Denver. I’ll stop for the night somewhere across the massively long state of Nebraska. That will put me into Denver tomorrow afternoon, and my mom, Jessica, or whatever I will call her, has asked me to come over and have lunch. The idea of meeting her is overwhelming, let alone seeing her home and sitting across from her over lunch. I may puke before I even drive the first mile of the trip.
Noah
and Madison – just like my parents – are eager to join me on my road trip adventure, but I tell them the same thing. This is something I need to do alone. Maybe just to know that I am strong enough to face it.
It
is late afternoon, but the sun is already preparing for its nightly hibernation. The streaks of golden sun lighting up the sky remind me I’ll be driving in the dark soon and I need to get moving. I hitch my backpack higher on my shoulder and continue across campus to where my car waits. My car is right where I left it, but it’s the guy standing next to the driver’s door that gives me pause.
“
Ja-Jase?” My tongue trips over his name, both from surprise at seeing him and from the ban I’ve imposed on speaking his name.
“Hi,” he returns carefully.
He’s dressed casually in dark-washed jeans, a gray T-shirt and my favorite light blue hoodie that I liked to steal on occasion. Seeing him is physically painful. He’s so handsome, and I’m reminded how comfortably we fit together. My body remains rooted to the sidewalk, because I know if I go to him, my head will rest perfectly in the crook of his neck, his T-shirt will smell like a mix of fabric softener and cologne, and if his arms circle around me I will feel safe.
I pull a
shaky breath into my lungs.
What is he doing here?
Jase
takes a step closer. “So you’re really doing this?” My eyes must betray my confusion, because he adds, “I talked to Madison.”
I nod.
Damn Madison
. I know they’ve been conversing about me in their shared lit class. I try not to read too much into it. “Yep. She lives in Denver. We’re meeting up tomorrow afternoon for lunch.” It explains how he knew where I was headed, but not what he’s doing here with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “Did you…need something?” I don’t mean for it to sound so cold, clinical, yet it does.
“I’d like to come with you – like we talked about.”
I frown. “That was before.”
“I know,” he
adds quickly. “But I’m the one who pushed you toward this, and it seems right that I should be with you when you go. Just because…of what happened…doesn’t mean I’m going back on my word. I am your life coach, and I intend to see this project through.” He attempts a smile, but I’m not amused. I’m done feeling like his project.