Page 115 of Reaching Avery
Not sure if I hid it well, but I was freaked the hell out. Avery was the sweetest person I’d ever met. Why would someone want to hurt him? And be so angry and rabid about it? David had mentioned Monica, as if she’d done something. I didn’t understand.
The teacher on duty caught wind of the fight and came running over. Just our freaking luck, it was Mr. Davis.
“All of you go to the principal’s office!” he half-yelled, half-wheezed.
There was no arguing with Mr. Davis. So instead of trying to explain what happened—how David had been the attacker and we’d just helped keep him from beating the hell out of my boyfriend—we did what he said and walked into the building.
Mr. Davis walked with us, which was probably the only reason David didn’t try anything on the way there. Once in the main office, under the scrutiny of the two school receptionists, Mr. Davis told us to sit down and shut up before he left.
I made sure to have Avery on my left. Ricky sat by me, then Travis, and David was on the other side of him. If that asswipe tried anything else, he’d have three other guys to go through before touching Avery.
“Boys,” Mrs. Miller— the principal—said, coming out of her office. “I’m disappointed to see you here.” She looked at us before motioning to Avery. “I’ll start with you, Mr. Kinkead. Come on.”
I squeezed his hand before he stood and walked that way. Even after he disappeared into her office and shut the door, I continued to stare after him.
“You’re lucky we’re on school grounds,” I said in a low tone, glaring at David. “Or I would’ve kicked your ass into next week for laying a hand on him.”
“Yeah?” David piped up, clearly feeling froggy since he knew I couldn’t touch him. “He’s nothing but trash and you know it. If his mom takes off her clothes and bangs men in the private back rooms for money, what does that say about him? Bad blood is bad blood.”
Both Travis and Ricky snapped their heads to me, and I wasn’t sure if they expected me to attack David and they were preparing to hold me back… or if they were just as shocked as me about the news.
When my mom had asked Monica what she did for a living, she had answered,“I dance.”
The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place. Maybe that’s why Avery never talked about what his mom did, and why he also seemed so protective of her.
“Mr. Blake?” the principal called me. “You’re next.”
As I passed Avery, I went to touch him—just to feel some kind of contact and let him know I was there for him—but he subtly dodged me, keeping his gaze toward the floor. I didn’t think he meant to do it. I knew him well enough by then to see the signs.
He was in his head. Ashamed, angry, and scared.
I wish I knew how to reach him.
