Page 46 of Never Will I Ever

My mind starts running with scenarios when I ask, “Did you confront him about it?”

That would explain a lot of the tension between the two of them last season. The blowout in the locker room, the jabs and taunts Avery would toss out at any given moment. If one of them was feeling something that the other wasn’t, or if Avery decided he wasn’t ready to confront his sexuality the way Keene was—

“No, he cut things off with me before I could ever work up the nerve to say something,” he replies, fracturing all my internal theories. “At first, I thought it was because he figured out it was me. But then I realized it was because of Aspen, and it made me so fucking angry. How could he share all these private and personal things with me, only to just…” He trails off, letting the sentence hang in the air between us.

“You were constantly spewing hatred at him,” I quickly point out, unable to leave the judgment out of my tone. “At every turn, it was another slur or threat or asshole remark. Things no human wants to hear, but especially when they’re going through such a massive self-discovery. And you knew he was going through that, which only made it worse. Even if he did know it was you—”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of just how convoluted this whole thing is.” Frustration laces the statement, and he shakes his head. “I can’t even choosemyselfbecause of how fucking disgusting I feel by even wanting…what I want. But it’s still how I feel.”

The idea of Avery wanting Keene, or even moreso, the thought of them together, leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It feels wrong on so many levels, and I don’t think it’s just because of how protective I feel over Keene either. But that’s something I can unpack another time. Alone, preferably.

Right now, I’d rather garner some understanding on the clusterfuck that got us to this moment.

Avery’s head falls back between his shoulder blades, his eyes locked on the stars overhead when he speaks again.

“You don’t know what it’s like…constantly being at war with yourself. Actively fighting a battle in your mind about the things you want. Trying to convince yourself that it’s okay, that this is who you are, but you’re still revolted by it all the same. Still have this shame screaming at you every time the thought even occurs.”

He’s right; I have no clue the struggle that’s been plaguing his mind.

And I sure as fuck have never felt as alone as he has. Probably for his entire life.

“I’m not saying the things I did or how I acted were logical,” he continues, still talking to the sky with words meant for me. “It was all emotion-fueled, and I regretted sending in that photo the second I saw their faces that day on the field. But obviously it was too late. Pettiness and anger and jealousy had already gotten the best of me, and they paid the price for it.” A soft scoff fills the air, and a tiny woeful smirk curls his lips at the corner. “And now, I guess I am too.”

Another wave of guilt hits me, taking me off guard. At no point did I consider Avery’s side of what happened, only how his actions impacted Aspen and Keene. And while I don’t exactlyregretsaying something, I realize everything is a lot more nuanced than I originally thought.

“I didn’t think they’d go as far as kicking you out of school,” Iwhisper, unable to shake the guilt still gnawing at me. “I hope you know the only reason I said something to Coach was because it was the right thing to do. I’d have done the same thing if it were anyone else.”

His head turns, and he meets my gaze. “Neither did I. But I made this bed, and now I need to lie in it. It was a fool’s mission to try placing the blame on you.”

“Maybe then, but it isn’t now.” I pause and blow out a long breath. “I’m sorry. About me going to Colin, I mean.”

There’s a beat of silence as he continues to study me, his expression remaining impassive before he murmurs, “We’ve both done things we aren’t proud of. I think it’s time we just let bygones be bygones.”

“I think we’re finally in agreement on something.”

“About time,” he says with a smirk.

I shrug. “It was bound to happen eventually, right?”

He lets out a soft laugh, and the sound draws out a smile from me too. But then his attention falls to my lips, and all the oxygen in the atmosphere disappears. We’re frozen in the moment, locked in a memory, and I don’t need to be a mind reader to know we’re sharing the same thought.

The kiss.

The one that continues burning inside my head like a white-hot brand, despite my efforts to box it up and shove it aside, never to be touched again. In fact, it seems the more I attempt to ignore how it felt to have his body pressed against me, his lips on mine, the more my mind fixates on it instead.

My windpipe constricts as the memory plagues me, drying my mouth out and forcing me to wet my lips. A movement that Avery watches, ever the captive audience, and I realize…I want him to do it again.

Right here, right now.

Shit.

Avery clears his throat, breaking the moment, before his attention returns to the lake.

“There’s a lot I need to work through while I’m here, I think. A lot of…accepting about who I am that I need to do. And who knows, maybe this”—he motions between us with his hand—“is the first step in that direction.”

For some goddamn reason, my stomach does a little somersault while I whisper, “If you need someone to talk about it with, you know where to find me.”

He nods a couple times before returning his focus to me and offering the smallest hint of a smile. And just like that, it turns out the most shocking revelation of the evening isn’t Avery coming out to me or the whole sordid tale of him, Keene, and that stupid baseball game.

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