Page 12 of Reaching Avery
My turn was next, and I cleared my throat before saying, “I’m Maverick, and this is my second year in here. It’s pretty cool. Just pay attention and don’t fall off the stage like I did last year.”
The people who’d witnessed my epic fall the year before laughed. It’d been memorable for sure. More people followed, some were nervous and fumbled over their words, and some were so confident that they spoke a bit too long, and Mr. Lee had to clear his throat to get them to wrap it up.
Then, it was Avery’s turn. At first, he didn’t say anything—just wrapped his arms around his midsection and slouched forward. When the silence drew on, he finally looked up.
“I’m Avery,” he said in a shaky voice. “And I had no choice but to be in here because every other class was full.”
“Well, Avery,” Mr. Lee said with a smile in his voice. “You’re welcome here, and we’re thankful to have you with us. You might find you like it more than you think.”
Avery shifted in his chair a bit, probably uncomfortable by the attention, but the corners of his mouth briefly lifted before falling again.
***
“Hey, babe,” Chris said as he answered the phone.
“Hey!” I sat in my computer chair and leaned back in it, holding the phone to my ear, stunned at first that he’d actually picked up. “It’s good to hear your voice. It’s been forever.” Forever, also known as two weeks. “How are you?”
“Good,” he answered. “You?”
My excitement waned a little at his short replies. I had called him every day since he’d left—not excessively, just once a day—and he hadn’t answered for two weeks or returned any of those calls.
The one time he answered? It sounded like he couldn’t care less.
“I’ve been okay,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “This week at school has been pretty great. I like all of my classes. Well, except for algebra.” I’d gone straight home after school and had played on my laptop for a little bit before calling him. “I miss you. How’s New York?”
“Busy,” he replied. “School takes up most of my time. Dance class is kicking my ass.”
I chuckled at that, remembering our time last year when we’d been in drama together. He loved dancing, but had two left feet sometimes and had stumbled into me once during a number, causing me to fall into one of the tree props.
“But I bet you still look sexy even when you’re tripping over yourself,” I teased.
“Yeah,” he said in a flat tone. “Look, Mav, I’ve gotta go. I have so much work to do.”
“Oh.” My face fell at his words, and I sat up in the chair, holding the phone closer to my ear, as if that would somehow keep him on the line longer. “That’s okay. Just call me when you can.”
“Will do,” he answered.
“I love y—”
He hung up, cutting me off.
I stared at my phone a moment before setting it on the desk, fighting the urge to punch something. Or cry. I went to my closet, put on my sneakers, and left my bedroom. As I jogged down the stairs and toward the front door, Mom stopped me.
“Where are you off to so fast?” she asked, coming through the opening from the living room.
“I’m gonna run a few laps around the block,” I answered. I needed to blow off some steam, so exercising sounded like the healthiest way to work through my frustration. “I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded, not pressing me on it. I loved that about her. She always understood when I needed space.
When I got outside, I started with a slow jog, moving past my front yard and onto the sidewalk. The houses around mine were tall and massive, and every yard was trimmed and picturesque with fancy fences and beautiful shrubbery. Our neighborhood was nice, and it was kind of the rich part of town.
We weren’t like mega rich, but we were wealthy. My dad was a top surgeon, so we didn’t really have to want for much. That didn’t mean I took advantage of that, though. My parents bought me a car for my sixteenth birthday, but ever since I got a job, I’d been paying my own insurance, gas, and anything else I needed.
My slow jog built into a faster one, and it felt amazing to work my muscles in such a way. The day was perfect, and I breathed in the air, trying to let it still my frayed nerves. I tried shifting my thoughts to anything other than Chris.
I was losing him. I’d known it the day he’d left, but I’d still held onto hope that we’d work things out. Love worked like that. Right?
Remembering how easily he had dismissed me over the phone, I wasn’t sure love was enough anymore.
