Page 122 of Reaching Avery
When I saw how much he was shaking, my protectiveness over him surged, and I nearly reached out to him again. The pleading look in his pale blue eyes stopped me. I forced myself to stay seated, and my heart was going ninety-to-nothing.
And then he pulled his pants down.
***
Shock. Confusion. Sadness. More shock. Those were all the emotions that hit me like a freight train as I saw the marred skin of Avery’s thighs. Marred was a kind word too. His skin was shredded to hell. Some of the gashes were darker, some more faded, and there were some that still had a pink hue as if they were fresher.
I couldn’t see above the line of his black boxers, but from what I could see, the cuts covered all of his upper thighs, going almost to his knees but not quite. The left thigh had more damage by the looks of it.
My vision blurred with tears, and I blinked to clear them.
“W-what happened?” I managed to ask through my whirlwind of emotions.
Avery stood with his gaze lowered to the floor. “I did it to myself.”
“What?” I asked, standing up and closing the distance between us. “Why?”
“It’s how I handle my issues, Mav,” he said in a deadpan tone, still not looking at me. “There’s a wrongness in me and cutting helps get it out.”
“Avery…” I didn’t know what to say. But I knew what to do. Pulling him against my chest, I buried my face in his dark hair. Something wet landed on my collarbone before his body began trembling, and I held him tighter. And then, where I hadn’t known what to say only seconds earlier, the words started spilling from me. “There is no wrong in you. Shitty things have happened to you, butnoneof them were your fault, baby.”
As his crying intensified, it took everything I had not to break down too.
“You are the sweetest person I know,” I said, moving my fingers through his hair. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. If you could, you’d see someone kind, funny, and beautiful from the inside out. Someone who makes any crappy day better just by walking into the room.”
He whimpered and gripped handfuls of my shirt.
“And this,” I softly pushed him back on the bed to sit before motioning to his thighs. “This needs to stop. You’re punishing yourself for something that was out of your control. Don’t you see that?” I got on my knees in front of him and looked up into his eyes, gently taking hold of his nape and pressing my forehead to his.
“I’m hideous,” he said as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “The worst part is I did it to myself, Mav. I need to be locked up. What sane person does this?”
“You’re not hideous,” I disagreed, wiping a tear away with my thumb. “And you don’t need to be locked up. We all deal with our pain in different ways.”
He stopped crying, but he still had the occasional shudder. For the longest time, he just stared at his lap.
I kissed his cheek, and then his jaw, before resting my face in the crevice where his neck met his shoulder.
“Didn’t it hurt?” I asked, attempting to wrap my head around it.
I’d never known anyone who cut, and I didn’t understand how it helped them deal with pain by causing more.
“Yes… and no,” he answered, focusing on me. “It’s hard to explain. When I get upset, that’s when I get the urge to cut. It’s like I’m in this emotional pain and I dissociate from everything. As if I’m floating above my body. So when I cut and see the blood, it’s like it grounds me. I feel the pain but it calms me because it brings me back to my body.”
Even though I still didn’t fully grasp the appeal of it, I didn’t have to. Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean you can’t empathize.
“I get what it’s like to feel like you’re screaming and no one hears you,” I said, feeling a twinge in my chest at the sadness in his eyes. “But I’m here for you, Avery. I see you and I love you. You don’t need to cut your problems away. Talk to your brother or to me. Go for a walk. Punch the shit out of a punching bag. If you need to feel something because you’re numb, then come kiss my face off. Or we could go for a run. Going to the gym helps me get out my tension.”
“I’m the worst workout person in the world,” Avery said with a half-laugh. “I don’t run. I fall.”
I grinned, relieved that he was of mind enough to joke, even a little.
“Then we can fall together,” I said, grabbing his hand and entwining our fingers. “Whenever you need me, I’m here.”
Avery kissed me then. His lips were salty from his tears, and his cheeks were damp, but I didn’t care. I returned his kiss and wrapped my arms around him, feeling like a piece of my heart had chipped off and drifted to him.
He lay back on the bed, and I followed. My weight on him worried me.
“Am I hurting you?” I asked, thinking of all the cuts on his thighs.
