Page 22 of Reaching Avery
“When you try out for the football or baseball teams, there’s always that chance they could pick someone else, right?” he continued, sounding more confident. I nodded. “I think this is the same thing. There once was a time when you’d never been quarterback—or whatever position you play—but you tried anyway to see what would happen. This isn’t any different. Trying something for the first time is always kinda scary, but you have to just have faith in yourself and do it anyway.”
There was so much more to him than I’d once thought.
“Thanks, man,” I said, not understanding the weird way my stomach flipped. It was different than the nerves from before. This was stronger and way more foreign. “Theater isn’t something I’m gonna pursue after graduation, but it’s something I enjoy. Like a fun hobby.”
Avery smiled. “So… what song are you gonna audition with?”
For the audition, we got to choose any song we wanted. It didn’t have to be from the musical we were doing either. So Bruno Mars, Celine Dion, a song from the movie Frozen, some heavy metal song, or another musical; it didn’t matter, and they were all allowed.
“Okay… don’t laugh,” I started, already feeling my cheeks heat. “But I really like musicals and have watched them with my mom ever since I could remember. One of my favorites isLes Miserables, and I’m thinking of singing “Stars.” If I can grow a pair and actually do it.”
His eyebrows shot up and his mouth popped open in a small O. “I would’ve never guessed that.”
I shrugged. “Appearances can be deceiving. Most people look at me and see a dumb jock with a nice ass, but if they’d only look deeper, they’d see a guy who loves sports, musical theater, and science. Someone who reads comic books and science magazines in his spare time.”
The answering stare I got for that response put me back into that spell from earlier. The way Avery looked at me made me feel like he truly sawme. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart pounded faster, and my mouth felt dry.
“Uh, I should look at my car,” I said before clearing my throat and trying to stand. I wobbled a little, but I was able to stay on my feet.
Avery stood as well and walked at my side. He was quiet, and so was I.
After making it to my car, I circled it once to see if there was any damage to the body. Everything looked fine, apart from the popped tire at the front.
I squatted and checked it out.
“I need to change it,” I said, bracing myself on the car before standing up. Other than the jittery nerves and the occasional jab of pain in my head, I felt okay. I hadn’t hit it hard enough to do any damage. “I have a spare tire in the trunk.”
It might be a bit embarrassing—okay, alotembarrassing—but I’d never actually changed a tire before. So I went to the trunk, popped it open, and got the spare from the compartment it was nestled in. The tools were back there as well: the jack to lift the car, and the other thing that helped get the screws out of the rim. Whatever the heck it was called.
I walked back to the bad tire and squatted again. As a few seconds passed and were nearing on probably minutes, I fumbled with the jack.
“Here, let me help,” Avery said, appearing beside me and covering my hand with his. Once again, I noticed his slender fingers. I’d never called handsprettybefore, but he really did have pretty hands. He took the jack from me and grabbed the other tool. “I’ve changed more tires than I can count.”
***
In bed, I tossed and turned, not able to get comfortable. Too much was on my mind, and I felt restless.
With Avery’s help, I was able to get my tire changed. Well, more like he did it all and I just helped him when he asked me to do something. Not feeling right with leaving him out there by himself, I’d insisted on driving him home. It’d been past curfew, and for those of us under eighteen, we could’ve gotten in trouble for being out that late.
His neighborhood was one I knew of, and not because of good things either. It was known as the bad neighborhood where the druggies and people of that sort lived. The streets beyond the railroad were all like that, really. The poor side of town.
As we pulled up to his house, Avery had looked ashamed, and my heart ached for him. Maybe he thought I’d judge him for living there.
“Thanks for all the help,” I’d said, drawing his eyes back to me. My car wasn’t huge, so we weren’t too far apart. “Not sure what I would’ve done if I’d been alone out there.”
A smile touched his lips—briefly—before fading. “No problem. Thanks for the ride home.” He grabbed the handle and opened the door before sliding out of the seat.
“See you at school Monday,” I had said before he closed the door.
He halted a moment, and nodded. “Yeah. See ya.”
I’d watched him jog up the three steps to his door, and I didn’t drive off until he’d made it inside.
And now I felt like I was still there with him in a way—stuck in a moment of time.
At the tracks we hadn’t talked a whole lot, but the little we had, I’d seen a different side to him. One that told me he wasn’t as standoffish as he seemed to be at school. He’d joked easily, taken my playful taunts and reciprocated some of his own. I’d also confided in him about myself, things that most of my so-called friends didn’t care about.
Maybe we could eventually be friends.
