Dear Ava: Enemies-to-lovers Standalone Romance Read online

  I see profiles when they turn, talking. His sharp jawline, the glossy hair my fingers touched. Her hand skims his neck. She tilts her face up and stands on her tiptoes. She’s asking him something. I know that look in her eyes. She likes him, a lot.

  And then…

  Surprise ripples over me. I see them at the keg party last year, his hand tucked in the pocket of her jeans as they left the party.

  But… Wait, wait, back up.

  First I kissed Chance.

  My heart pounds and I flinch as the details that were once locked away slide into perfect clarity. Closing my eyes, focusing on concentrating, I let the images creep in. Chance’s kiss, long and deep and sweet. My immediate response to the pressure of his lips, delving into his mouth. How badly I wanted our date the next night. He was going to pick me up and take me to dinner. It might seem silly to want something so simple, but for a girl like me—one who’s never had big things—it’s the little things that take up room in my heart: soft rain, starry nights, shy looks, leaves falling, a good movie, Tyler’s smile, chocolate cake—and a date with your guy.

  I love you, Ava, Chance said in my ear, his hands curling around my waist, holding me like I was porcelain.

  He kissed me and said that and I didn’t even remember! Holy shit. I blink.

  I was already trashed, but the words are vivid now, a hot brand in my head. And what was my response? No clue, but I lifted my head from Chance’s shoulder and instead of meeting his lips again, I met the gray eyes of Knox Grayson glittering at me. Only two feet away. I could have reached up, stretched out my arms, and touched his unsmiling face. I could have unfurled his clenched fists.

  He took a deep breath as our gazes clung.

  Chance kissed my neck, and I trembled when I looked at Knox and he let me see…he let me see…a window inside himself. Anguish mingled with want. Longing.

  Standing there by the fire, with Tawny by his side, he pressed two fingers to his lips and sent the touch to me. With twenty-twenty vision, without the alcohol clouding me, I saw him, saw the slow, regretful way he tore his eyes off of me and Chance.

  Then—just like now—he tossed an arm around Tawny, escorted her to his car, and opened the door for her. He disappeared. And I…I was left behind.

  My eyes find them now at the doorway. They haven’t moved.

  He bends his head to her—my chest squeezes—getting lower and lower. My breathing intensifies. Unbidden anxiety ratchets down my spine.

  I resist the urge to stamp my foot.

  Look at me like that again, I want to shout.

  Someone bumps into me.

  Another nudge, this time on my arm. “…Ava…are you listening?”

  The male voice penetrates and I start, glancing over.

  “What?” I snap at Chance. He’s been standing there for a while. My hands, which have been clinging to the edge of the table, loosen their grip, and my back straightens. I toss a look around him. “Where’s Brooklyn?”

  He flushes. “She left already. Ava…” He stops, his mouth opening and shutting.

  “What do you want?” I gather my purse off the back of the chair. I need out of here. I don’t want to rehash that night, and I can feel him psyching himself up for something.

  “You hurt me,” are the words he finally pushes out.

  What fresh hell?

  “I hurt you?”

  He tries to hold my eyes but dips his head. “I can’t take it anymore. You’ve only been here two days and I can’t…” He trails off.

  “Can’t what?”

  His head rises. He struggles to speak, the words pulled from him. He looks as if he’s in some kind of crisis. I almost think he weaves on his feet. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Now?”

  He nods.

  I blow out a breath. “Really? Where were you when I needed you, huh? You weren’t thinking then. You left me at that party to hook up with your current girlfriend.” Somehow I keep my voice even, almost calm, but I feel the rage lingering, just waiting to pounce.

  Shame—or at least I want to think it’s shame—colors his face.

  Bitterness whips in the air like a tornado. I know I shouldn’t engage with him, but maybe I need closure. We never got that. I got his text and wrote him off.

  “Tell me something, how could you tell me I love you one minute then leave me at that party the next? A brave person would have believed me. Cowards pussy out, Chance. You quit me like I was trash. Even now, I can’t believe I let you get so close to my heart…” I bite my lip, shaken by the torrent of words that have come out of me. I did let him close. God. I let myself be vulnerable for him.

  He swallows, blue eyes downcast. “I’m sorry—”

  I cut him off right there. “Yeah. You are. And the worst thing of all is maybe it was you. Maybe it was you.” My voice breaks, just a little, and I snatch it back.

  He nods as if he expected that but sucks in a breath. “It wasn’t. I’m not capable of that. You know me. I’ve been thinking—”

  “Please don’t.”

  “I can’t stop it, Ava.” His eyes flick to the doorway, where Knox and Tawny still are. I can see them in my peripheral. “And everything Knox has done and said was right, and I’ve been wrong. I am sorry. You’re right about me. I messed up. I should have made you stop drinking, been more protective, or made sure I left with you—”

  “But you didn’t. Ha.”

  What has Knox done and said?

  His eyes close briefly. “I’ve never been in that situation. I never cared about a girl like you. I didn’t dream someone I knew, a friend of mine, would hurt you—”

  “Save your apology!”

  “I know! I hate it, okay? I hate it! I can’t change how I reacted!” His voice rises, but there’s no one here to hear us. The room is empty except for that maddening couple at the doorway. I refuse to look at them, but I can feel them there like a dark shadow.

  “I always thought I was a strong person, but I’m not,” he adds as he scrubs his face. “Ava, please.” His chest rises, expands. “I’ve…missed you. I’ve imagined you in the hallway a hundred times. I didn’t play one football game without looking at the sidelines and wishing you were there. I’ve played back that night in my head over and over, but I was drunk too, and I wasn’t thinking right. You ran off to dance, and all I saw was you at your first Shark kegger, leaving me for someone better. I didn’t do the right thing. I reacted like a sniveling, jealous asshole. I let you down and you got hurt.”

  Ugly emotion tightens my throat and I kick it down.

  He closes his eyes. “Tell me how to make it better.”

  I scowl at him, really looking at him. The way his sandy hair is full and thick, how my fingers felt brushing through the wet strands after a game. His strong shoulders when he hugged me so tight. All the little notes he’d leave for me in my locker. You’re beautiful was the first one. I’ll be yours, if you ask was the second. And then, I dream of you more often than I should. Oh, I recall them and that last one got to me. So good. To imagine he wanted me… I imagined us at prom, at college together, me walking down an aisle toward him. Who was that girl? I got foolish. I forgot life isn’t kittens and rainbows.

  “I know it’s too late to change anything—”

  “Stop. Just stop talking. Don’t come near me and I swear to do the same.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  “I do!”

  He flinches, looking like he might say something else, but he dunks his head and brushes past me.

  My chest heaves. Big breath in. Long sigh out.

  I hear the warning bell and other kids rush in from the hall to take the seats around me. I dash to the door and Knox and Tawny are still there. WTF. Go already!

  She has him pressed against the wall, her manicured, red-tipped hands dancing over his chest as she daintily frowns at the bruise on his face.

  His eyes cling to me. Knowledge gleams there, of my conversation with Chance. Fi
rst-row seats to that little show—was it on purpose? Maybe. It feels like Knox always has a reason for everything.

  I’m about to pass them when I stop and turn back around. I ignore Tawny and glare at him. “Tomorrow night. Vanderbilt library. I’ll meet you on the steps at seven and we can watch the movie together in one of the study rooms. I have an ID because I used to go last year when I was doing homeschool stuff.”

  “Alright,” he says softly, his eyes studying my face, as if looking to see if I’m okay. He moves Tawny away from him, literally pushes her shoulders until she’s fuming prettily. She sends me a little glare and whispers in his ear. I definitely hear bleachers in her rush of words. He shakes his head at her.

  I smirk.

  She saunters off and I watch her, but when I turn back, he’s got those gray eyes on me.

  “Should we eat first?” he asks.

  “Please. This is not a date.”

  “Agreed, but my stomach will growl. It might disturb the other people studying. Plus, I’ll be fresh from practice, and I get queasy if I don’t get protein.”

  He is…ugh.

  My hand goes to my hip. “First I have to drag it out of you to hear what happened to your eye, and then you want to watch this stupid movie together. Now you insist on eating.”

  “It’s just food. Why can’t we eat? If you came to my house, Suzy would make us dinner.”

  Nope. Not going to a Shark’s house.

  “Meet me at Lou’s Diner and we’ll drive over from there. The restaurant is on Elm Street in Nashville. Happy?”

  He huffs out a laugh. “Just two students watching an iconic romantic movie for a class. It’s a plan, Tulip.”

  “See you, Cold and Evil.” I walk out the door.

  Why did I do that? is racing through my head as I leave.

  I blame it on Chance and his half-assed apology.

  Maybe that memory of how Knox looked at me.

  Whatever.

  I push it aside and pick up my steps as I jog down the hall. Crap. I’m going to be late for English. Mr. Banks is old, though, and it takes him a few minutes to get his roll out. I can sneak in and sit in the back. I dash down the mostly empty corridor to my locker, my steps picking up when I see Brandon Wilkes, one of the football players. All crazy red hair and jacked muscles, he slows as he passes me and sends me a leer. He flips around, sliding black eyes over me as he walks backward. “Get the message, snitch. We don’t want you here.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter and keep marching.

  It’s not until I reach my locker that it makes sense. Scribbled in black marker on my silver locker are the words LEAVE SLUT.

  My mouth dries. Nausea boils in my stomach. That word. That fucking word.

  Someone is behind me, and she laughs.

  No matter how many times I walk through the doors of Camden, they’ll never forget who I am and what happened to me—

  Shake it off. No self-pity allowed. Zero.

  With fumbling fingers, I open the lock, take out my book, and slam it shut.

  When I turn, Jolena is there, eyes sparkling. She holds her hands up. “Don’t blow up at me. I didn’t do it, but boy do I like it.”

  The final bell rings. We’re late to class.

  She doesn’t move, smiling still.

  I tilt my head toward my locker. “You think that bothers me?” It KILLS ME. Loneliness sucks at me and I clench my fists. “What a joke. At least it’s not, oh, I don’t know—a violation of my body. Yeah, that is so much worse. Plus, the missing comma is deplorable. Whoever wrote it is an idiot.”

  “Stay away from the football players, Ava,” she calls to my back as I walk away. “And I don’t just mean Liam. Knox too. He belongs to us. Don’t forget it.”

  How can I forget?

  On trembling legs, I walk to the office and find Mrs. Carmichael. In a toneless voice I stare at her flowered blouse and tell her what’s on my locker, and she murmurs words I barely hear. “Oh, no, terrible…kids these day…so sorry for you. I’ll get maintenance on it, I’m sure we have something to remove it…” Blah, blah, blah.

  She hands me a note to class and I accept it then run to the bathroom, finding the last stall and sitting on the toilet, my legs tucked up so no one can see me. My stomach rolls, thick and heavy, and I shove it down.

  I call the elementary campus and ask for Dr. Rivers. Time passes, but I don’t care how long it takes until her voice is on the line and I ask to speak to Tyler. She tells me no, they don’t pull students from class to talk on the phone. I tell her I need to hear his voice just for one minute, and can’t I please, please, please just talk to him, and eventually I say I don’t think I can get up and go to class until I hear his voice. There’s a long silence until finally, Tyler comes, and I hear him talking to Dr. Rivers, some shuffling, and then his tiny breathy voice on the line, saying hello, and I close my eyes.

  “How’s your first day, bozo?” My voice isn’t right, but at least I have it.

  “Balls! It’s amazing!” I feel the smile on his face all the way from his school. “We’re doing science and I got a partner and we got to lay down on this long paper and outline each other and now we’re gonna use yarn to make the blood vessels! Isn’t that cool? Isn’t it?” He sighs.

  “So cool.”

  He goes on and on and we make a plan for him to come eat tacos with me and Piper tonight, and it’s well past the minute I told Dr. Rivers, and then he’s gone and she’s on the line, asking if I’m okay, and should she call Mr. Trask, and I lie and tell her I’ll be fine. I hang up and touch my cheeks to make sure they’re dry; they are, thank God, because please, I don’t want to cry.

  Not here in this godforsaken place.

  Walking out of the stall, I look at myself in the mirror. Pale. Too skinny. Dark shadows under my eyes. Black hair. I’d be goth if not for the bright uniform. From my purse, I fish out my red lipstick and slide it on, considering my reflection. I can be strong for Tyler. I can make this shitty road mine. Own it. Use it. And someday, someday, I’ll have a beautiful road, smooth and easy and perfect.

  “So you aren’t going to let these assholes get to you, Ava?” I say to the scared girl in the mirror.

  “No. Not yet. I’m not quitting. Only cowards quit.”

  Whipping out a marker, I leave a little message on the wall with hearts around it.

  Then I walk out and go to class.

  11

  I’m nervous when I pull into the parking lot of Lou’s. My heart is jumping in my chest at the prospect of seeing her, and it’s so wrong. Chance flashes through my head, his broken words to Ava and, shit, just the way he stared at her with his heart in his eyes. About time he tried to apologize, but I wasn’t surprised she refused him. Considering what happened to her and how he let her down, I’m not sure forgiveness is in the cards.

  There’s a wall around me, but she’s got one up too.

  She’s the eye of a hurricane, the winds of her pain whipping around her.

  I pop my visor down to look in the mirror and straighten my freshly showered hair, tugging on it to soften the right side of my face. Here goes nothing. I exit and stop for a moment in front of the glass door, checking my reflection. Jeans and a tight shirt that shows off my arms—check. Cologne she says she hates but really loves—check.

  This isn’t a date, asshole.

  Uh-huh.

  So why am I rippling with anxiousness?

  My palms are clammy when I open the door to Lou’s, which is in a really shitty part of town.

  A grizzly-looking man with a beard in a stained white apron sits behind the counter. He gives me a hard once-over. His lips tighten. “She’s sitting in the back.”

  I nod. Okay, so he knows who I am and he doesn’t like my puss at all. Fine, fine. Not here for him, and I can’t even blame him.

  My steps are too damn eager as I walk to the back of the diner and slide into the red booth across from her. I saw her in class today, but we had a pop quiz over The Wizard of
Oz and there wasn’t time for talking. She ate lunch with Wyatt and Piper, clear across the cafeteria from the Shark table. I watched her, pretending I wasn’t when Dane asked me why I was distracted.

  Wearing frayed cut-off shorts and a faded yellow Sex Pistols shirt, she’s heartbreakingly beautiful. Her hair swings softly around her shoulders, and I feel a pang for the blonde style she wore last year. I may have had a weakness for her hair. Stupid.

  “You’re early. Eager to get started?” she murmurs, setting her laptop aside and looking over at me.

  Clearing my throat, I check out the interior of the diner. Cracked linoleum on the floor, walls that need another coat of blue paint, old Formica booths, and a dingy metal napkin holder next to those generic squeezable mustard and ketchup containers. A dark hallway at the back leads to a narrow space where I imagine the restrooms are. It’s not an ideal place to be alone with her for the first time without anyone from school here, but I’ll take it.

  I settle in, stretching out my legs. My foot brushes hers under the table and she subtly pulls it back while I mutter an apology. “Yeah. Guess you still beat me here. Did you work a shift?”

  “Not today. I saw Tyler earlier. He lives nearby at the group home. How did you know I worked here?”

  Oh, Ava. I know so much.

  I wave her off.

  “How is he doing at Camden Prep?”

  Her head cocks. “Dude, how you’d even know he was there?”

  I shrug and bite back a smile at her dude. She’s getting more comfortable with me with each little moment. Is that what I want? Right now, in this moment, fuck yeah.

  “Trask emailed the board and asked for a scholarship for him. My dad is on the board. He mentioned it.” Several times. That was a strange phone call on Monday when I heard the hesitant tone in Dad’s voice as he asked me if Ava was really back. Since he is on the board, he also knew Trask wanted her back, and although he felt uneasy about it, he voted yes to call her and offer the scholarship for her senior year. Like me, he recalls the spiral Dane went into after the kegger last year.