Page 95 of Reaching Avery
Love was too soon. We’d only properly been dating for a little over a week and were still in the hand-holding phase. But my heart remembered all the days before that. And the nights we’d spent at the train tracks: how I’d checked his big lug of a self for a concussion that one night and helped him change his tire, all the scattered conversations since then, melting a little when hearing him sing, and the night he first held my hand by the water.
All of those things added up to something… magical.
Indescribable.
Mav had done the impossible and made me want to take that leap of faith. I was tired of keeping him at a distance.
After we’d eaten, we moved into the living room where Karen continued to ask me questions. She even told me some stories about Maverick that made me laugh so hard I snorted. Apparently, he’d been a mischievous kid who’d gotten into anything and everything he could get his hands on.
The mood changed about an hour later, though, when his dad came home.
Right when a male voice called out from the entryway, Maverick’s smile faltered. A man who looked exactly like Mav walked into the living room. His light brown hair was shorter than Mav’s, but his face-shape and eyes were the same.
Karen stood from the loveseat and approached the man, greeting him with a quick kiss. “How was work?”
“Busy,” he said before looking at me. I couldn’t read his expression, but he didn’t exactly look happy. “Hello.”
“Dad, this is Avery,” Maverick introduced us in a somewhat guarded tone, grabbing my hand. I didn’t know if the comforting touch was more for me or for him.
“I’m William,” he said, walking forward and offering his hand for a shake. I accepted it with my free hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Whether he thought that was good or bad was still to be determined.
His hand was strong and not as rough as I’d imagined. Probably because he was a surgeon and kept them in great shape. I didn’t know. Could hands be in shape? It was a weird question I’d have to ask Mav later, since sometimes we liked to talk about strange, philosophical things.
“I’ve heard about you too,” I said before releasing his hand and automatically going into my usual stance of hunching my shoulders.
EvenIgot irritated that I did it. Just a habit.
“So, you’re into the goth scene?” William asked, although it didn’t quite sound like a question. More like a statement. A distasteful statement, too, if the slight sneer on his face was anything to go by. His dark blue eyes looked me up and down. Judging me.
“Um, I’m not exactly sure if I’m in asceneper se,” I said, using my fingers to put quotations onscene.“It’s just who I am and there’s nothing wrong with it. Emo kids aren’t some evil that needs to be snuffed out, either. It’s not like we go around putting hexes on people, flashing the satanic bible in everyone’s face, and demanding sacrifices of blood from the innocent.”
A sort of choking sound came from beside me, and I turned to see Mav barely holding it together. His cheeks were red, his eyes were watering, and the muscles in his face twitched as he forced away a laugh. The guy was about to explode.
“I take it you aren’t Christian,” William said, cutting his eyes.
“Dad. Enough.” Mav moved closer and pulled me against his side. All humor was absent from him, and in that moment, I could truly see how much he resembled his dad by his stern expression. “We aren’t exactly super religious either. I mean, when is the last time we actually went to church? And even if we were, I’d still be with him.”
Peering up at Mav, I leaned into him. He’d defended me. I wasn’t used to someone caring so much.
“I wasn’t chastising him for it, Maverick,” William said before rubbing at both eyes with his forefingers. “I just don’t see why you can’t bring someone home—boy or girl—who’s normal. Sometimes I think you do these things just to get under my skin.”
I gaped and had the sudden urge to run out of the room. If Mav’s arm hadn’t come around me, I might have.
“Not everything is about you, Dad,” Mav said, squaring his jaw. “If you can’t accept Avery—and me, for that matter—we’re done here.”
“Honey, wait,” Karen called after us as Maverick steered me from the room.
We didn’t stop, though. I looked over my shoulder and gave a weak smile to Karen before we left the living room.
“I’m sorry,” Mav whispered, and his voice cracked. I realized right then that he was barely holding it together too. “Just when I think he’s getting better, he falls back into his old, judgmental ways. I don’t get it.”
We were outside and standing on the porch, away from his dad but not from the hurt his words had caused. There was no running from that. Not yet. It was still too fresh.
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “You warned me about him, so it wasn’t a shocker or anything.”
Normally, I’d let go at that time, having had enough contact. But I couldn’t let go of him. Not when I saw the pain in his eyes. I wanted to make him better. To see him smile again. And if I couldn’t do that, then I at least needed him to know he wasn’t alone.
