Page 83 of Heart of Gold
“If he made it back there.”
Ava grabs me and pulls me into a hug, “I’m sure he did. There’s just a lot going on.”
“Do you think that rumor was true? About Grayson putting something in Levi’s drink?”
Ava winces, “I don’t know. I mean we’ve watched Levi drink plenty of times and not have any heart issues. It does seem like something messed with him.”
I can’t believe Grayson would do something like that, but at the same time, I didn’t think he’d do a lot of the things he’s done.
I glance over to my desk at Gavin’s jersey hung over my chair. “This is all my fault. This is exactly why I wanted to let things blow over with Grayson before dragging Gavin into this mess.”
She sits next to me on my bed, “Stop doing that. Stop taking responsibility for all the shitty things he does. They aren’t your problem anymore.”
I try Gavin’s phone one more time and again, it goes straight to voicemail.
This is Gav, leave a message.
It wasn’t actually Gavin but it was reassuring even to hear his voice on his voicemail.
I stare around my room and decide it’s better if I don’t sit here and worry. My anxiety is already making me feel horrible and shaky, so I get up and grab my keys.
“Where are you going?” Ava questions, pulling my covers over her legs.
I throw my hair up into a bun, and don’t bother with any makeup. “It’s Sunday. Gavin and I usually volunteer at the animal shelter, so that’s where I’m going.”
“I doubt he’s there,” She grumbles, still sleepy.
She’s right. He’s probably not there, but I need to go. It’s like therapy at this point.
I drive to the shelter and, unsurprisingly, I don’t see Gavin’s truck. I walk in and talk with Wendy before walking back through the kennels. After walking a few dogs, I look at my watch. I should probably head back toward the dorm.
I saved Daisy for last but when I make it to her kennel, she is gone.
“Hey, Wendy!” I yell. “Where’s Daisy?”
“Adopted,” she says matter of factly. “Earlier today actually.”
For some reason, I feel a burn in my throat. A sadness that’s hard to pinpoint. Of course I’m glad Daisy was adopted, maybe everything I’m feeling about Gavin is just heightening my emotions. I’m just really worried about him.
We’ve talked non-stop for a month and I know it’s only been like half a day and it shouldn’t be a big deal but it is. It’s out of character for him. After walking the last dog, I decide to drive by Gavin’s apartment for a welfare check.
I’m happy to see his truck in his usual spot, so I park right next to him. I sit in the car for a minute before getting out, unsure of what I’m walking into.
Is this it?
Has he decided that the drama I bring is just too much? Is that why he’s not responded to me?
My negative thoughts race through my mind, and I try my best not to listen to them but I can’t help it. I’ve always been a pessimist.
Mustering up every ounce of courage I have left inside my five foot frame, I walk to the door, ring the bell and wait. I hear shuffling around inside followed by a loud groan, and then the door opens. The air escapes my lungs entirely when I lay eyes on him.
There’s a small cut above his eye with stitches and some bruising that radiates to his temple. The right side of his ribs are bruised, most likely broken judging by the amount of purple, and a tiny cut on his lip where it’s been busted.
He looks awful.
“Jesus Christ, Gavin. Are you okay?” I push through the door, and take him in my arms. “You look awful.”
I let go of him and he looks down at me with a sad smile, “You should see the other guy.”
