Page 65 of Reaching Avery
Not that I’d admit it out loud, but I liked when he teased me. No one else really did, either out of fear that I’d beat them up or because they were always kissing my ass. Avery was refreshing. He didn’t care about my popularity or size.
“Hey, it was dark, in the middle ofnowhere, and your pale face popped up at my window,” I said in a matter of fact tone. “Of course I screamed. Don’t judge me.”
“I like that about you,” he said. “You’re this big guy, but you aren’t ashamed in admitting when you’re scared. You don’t try to be the tough guy. You are justyou.”
“Thanks,” I responded as warmth spread through my chest. “Being something you aren’t is too exhausting. So… about that movie tonight.”
He pressed his lips into a line before opening his mouth.
The ringing of the bell interrupted whatever he was about to say. Stupid thing. We gathered our things before standing. All I had with me was my algebra book, but he had a backpack that he slung over one shoulder. He winced and touched his upper thigh when we began walking.
“You okay?” I asked, cocking my head.
Avery nodded as an odd expression crossed his face. It reminded me of the day I’d first started talking to him; guarded and shut-off from the world.
We were at that point in our friendship where it was hard not to push him to talk, but I forced myself to cease with the questions. At least for the time being.
Then it struck me that while we’d hung out a lot lately, he’d still not told me much about his personal life. He never talked about his mom, and he only briefly mentioned his brother. Never invited me over to his house, even though I’d invited him over to mine—which he’d refused every time.
What was he hiding?
“See you in class,” I told him. “I have to go by my locker first.”
He didn’t say anything before walking away.
I stared after him and my chest did a cracking thing that was hard to explain.
It wasn’t until we were in history class, waiting for Mr. Jones to begin the lecture, when I realized Avery hadn’t given me an answer about that night. Perhaps that had been what the damn bell had interrupted, so I made a mental note to ask him again at lunch.
For the rest of class, I found it hard to focus, but I somehow managed it. Kind of. Although I liked learning about the Civil War, the reconstruction period following it was snooze-worthy. My attention kept jumping from the rebuilding of the South to Avery and the several times I’d seen him limp and wince when he thought I wasn’t looking.
And whenever I asked about said limping, a certain look flickered in his eyes. One that worried me. I’d seen the same look the night I’d kissed him too. Before he ran off into the woods and left me chasing after him.
“Mr. Blake?”
Hearing my name, I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the teacher. “Yes, Mr. Jones?”
“In what year did the Radical Reconstruction begin?” he asked, leaning on the corner of his desk. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, showing off his toned forearms. “And what was the significance of it?”
“Um.” My scalp prickled and I heard the blood rushing to my ears. All eyes were on me, and my brain went blank. Normally, I didn’t mind being the center of attention, but I felt like running out of the room in that moment just to escape it.Come on, Mav, you know this. “1867?”
“Correct,” Mr. Jones said, nodding. “And the significance?”
“For the first time in American history, African Americans had a voice in the government,” I answered, feeling less nervous.
“Good,” he said before looking at the rest of the class and moving on. “Years later, however, new groups formed that threatened to reverse all of the progress from the Radical Reconstruction period.”
I breathed a relieved sigh and looked down at my textbook, pushing all thoughts of Avery aside and forcing myself to follow along.
When the bell rang, I half expected Avery to quickly leave the room like he usually did when things were weird between us, but he didn’t. He approached my desk and gave me a shaky smile.
“Thought we could walk to bio together,” he said before glancing down at his feet.
I grinned as my heart did a strange fluttering. More and more, he was stepping out of his comfort zone around me and initiating conversation.
“Awesome.” I grabbed my history book and pen. “I need to go by my locker.”
“Why don’t you use your backpack and just put your books inside?” Avery said, giving me an incredulous look. “It’d save you an extra trip between classes.”
