Dear Ava: Enemies-to-lovers Standalone Romance Page 6

  Sitting in a plush, brown leather chair, I nod my head in agreement, but I know there wasn’t much choice for me in the matter. Goals—they’re what pushed me to walk back into this hellhole.

  Another tenuous smile from him as he comes around and sits on his desk, his hands folded in his lap. “As I mentioned on the phone last week, we can easily add your grades from last year to our curriculum here. It even appears you’re ahead in calculus. The tutors at Sisters of Charity did a great job with homeschooling.”

  I smile, but just barely.

  The tutors sucked. I actually did everything myself. I researched and found a homeschooling program accepted in Tennessee public schools, read the material myself, and took every test, legitimately and without cheating. A few times I even snuck into local colleges near the group home and sat in the back taking notes. Thankfully those classes were so packed no one seemed to notice.

  “You won’t be disappointed by your decision to put last year behind you. Camden really is the best place for you.”

  This is the worst place I could be.

  In fact, my original plan was to go back to the public school where I attended middle school, but there’s Tyler, and I have to think about his future too.

  Mr. Trask pulls out a stack of papers in a folder and opens it up. He’s holding my actual permanent record and my fingers itch to snatch it out of his hands, wondering if the keg party is documented there. I’m certain it is. Every football player at the party was reprimanded, suspended for a week while the police conducted their interviews. A fucking week. As for me, I never came back to Camden after that night, spending a few days at Piper’s until I went back to the group home.

  That was then.

  This is now.

  He says, “Your GPA will continue to be competitive with the rest of the student body, and you’ll be eligible for final class rankings.” He places a piece of paper in my hand. “So if you’ll just sign here, you will be fully enrolled again. Just like you never left.”

  “Any word on housing?” When we spoke on the phone last week, he said we’d discuss it today. I didn’t expect him to agree, but living on campus would make things easier, especially the terrible morning commute from Nashville. Plus, the nuns aren’t responsible for me anymore, and even though they’ve given me this extra time, they need room for other kids.

  “Ah, yes,” he says, smiling. “I have very good news. There’s an opening in the dorms and it’s yours. No charge.”

  Surprise makes me blink. I came prepared to battle for a free dorm room. “But you weren’t even sure the board would agree to pay for my housing. What’s changed?”

  He nods. “Actually, we have an anonymous donor who’s offered to cover the cost.”

  “Who? I mean, I assume most of the board is angry with me for last year.”

  He sighs, an uncertain look on his face. “The person wishes to remain anonymous. And, I assure you, the board is not angry with you. We want to help you. I have two daughters myself, and I just…” He stops, clearing his throat, obviously pushing aside whatever he was going to say as he looks at me, thinking, choosing his words carefully. “As you know from our conversation earlier, we don’t normally allow local residents to utilize the dorms, but since you’re a special case, I’ve overruled that policy and granted the opening to you. You can move in today if you like. Miss Henderson is the dorm mom and she’s expecting you. Just show up after school and get settled.”

  I’m flabbergasted. That’s at least ten grand for the whole year!

  Who was it? A guilty parent who knows their son hurt me?

  Regardless of who it is, having housing here will make life much easier. I’ll have a private room where I can study and focus. Sure, I’ll miss Tyler, but I can visit him every afternoon, and it’s not like we share a room or keep the same hours except for dinnertime anyway. The younger kids sleep on a different wing from the older kids at the group home.

  I nod, moving on and focusing. “I mentioned my brother Tyler and his situation last week. He’s six and has special needs, and the crowded school he’s zoned for in Nashville isn’t doing him any favors. They barely pay him any attention.” I chew on my lips, recalling an incident last year where he actually left the school and wandered off near the river. It was a frantic four hours until the police found him on the shore tossing rocks into the water. What if he’d fallen in? What if someone had abducted him? It’s a terrible part of town, addicts living in abandoned buildings on every corner. I’m used to those places; he’s not. “I want him at the Camden elementary campus. I know you have a department devoted solely to helping kids with special needs.”

  He stands, walks around to his chair, and sits. “Your brother…that’s an entirely new scholarship, and our board has already fulfilled our quota for the year. You, on the other hand, were a previous student here, one with incredible SAT scores.”

  My chest rises. I think about my brother, his small-for-his-age stature and slightly disjointed fingers. Diagnosed with fetal alcohol syndrome at birth, he has some developmental delays and attention issues. He’s never going to be everything he can be at the place he’s zoned for.

  My resolve builds. “With all due respect, Mr. Trask, I’m not coming back unless he’s enrolled. One of the nuns has agreed to drive him back and forth every day just like they did for me before I turned sixteen. He needs this, and he’s not unruly. He’s kind and sweet and smart, and all he needs is a place with good people to care about him. And he’s an orphan. Our mother abandoned him.” I hate using that word, but if it helps, I’ll throw it around.

  He grimaces, and I continue.

  “I’ve already filled out all the paperwork.” I pull it out of my backpack and set it on his desk. I copied it using the printer at Lou’s diner. “There has to be a spot for him at the elementary campus. Just one.” The thought of seeing Tyler actually get the services he deserves makes my palms sweat. I swallow, thinking fast, my mouth saying things I don’t know I can deliver on. “Look, forget the scholarship for him. I…I can pay you back a little at a time. I have some savings and a job. I’m a great waitress. It won’t be much, and you can charge me interest or whatever your administration prefers, but I swear, I will pay for his tuition, and then when I get to college, I can get another job, maybe one that pays more, and—”

  “Ava.” He cuts me off. “I can’t give you a loan. To even enroll him with a payment plan, I’d need half of the money. Do you have fifteen thousand dollars?”

  My gut clenches. “No.”

  “My dear…” His voice softens. “All monies for scholarships have already been allocated for this year. It’s out of my hands.”

  I stand up. I didn’t walk in here today just to be turned down so quickly. I’m prepared to fight. I look down at the Anaïs Nin quote on my backpack, words I put there with a sharpie. Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.

  Never give up, Ava.

  “Then ask that donor, or call the administration at the campus to check for sure, because I promise you this: if you don’t find Tyler a spot on your roster, you’re going to lose me. I can drive down the road to Morganville, and they’ll roll out the red carpet. You and I both know my scores are some of the best this school has ever seen. You wouldn’t have called me and asked me to come back if I wasn’t poised to put Camden at the top of the list of best private schools in the state. Do you really want your biggest competition bragging about my scores?”

  I’m bluffing about Morganville, who also happens to be our biggest football rival. The only reason I haven’t approached them already is they don’t have the special needs program Camden does.

  “Plus, I came back here. I came back. Doesn’t that look good for those future students who might be wondering about the moral quality of the young men you’re educating here? Maybe there’s a future football star out there wondering if Camden is the right place for him. Maybe there’s a smart girl who can afford Camden, but she goes to Morganville instead
because she’s heard rumors.” I hesitate. I do like him, always have, but… “I get requests for my story from reporters who don’t have a thing to do with this town, who aren’t afraid of the money here. Would you like to see me on some national morning show? I’d hate to draw unwanted attention back to Camden and perhaps suggest that this school and town didn’t do enough for me.” My voice cracks. It’s a lie. There are no reporters. Nobody gave a shit about what happened to me.

  He takes his glasses off and wipes at them slowly, a surprised expression on his lined face. His eyes crinkle as he squints at me. “I don’t remember you being quite this…assertive.”

  “There’s a lot that’s different about me, Mr. Trask.”

  He runs his gaze over my hair, giving me a long, searching look and then a sigh and a nod. “I see that, and I’m sorry for it. Deeply.”

  Just give me what I need.

  He smiles briefly. “Let me make some phone calls and get back to you by the end of the day. Will that work?”

  Nodding, I move to the door. “He’s the only thing I’m living for right now. If he’s not near me, this”—I wave my hands around—“is a no-go. I won’t sign anything.”

  He nods. “End of day, I’ll let you know.”

  I walk out of the office and, lo and behold, Mrs. Carmichael has a pass ready.

  I saunter out into the hall, feeling proud that Ava 2.0 does indeed have a backbone.

  All I have is this one year to set everything right, and if I’m going to be miserable here, at least my brother will get a fresh start.

  6

  Class with Ava has me extra wired. Sitting next to her was intense, the smell of her hair when she moved, the way her lips puckered when she was pissed at me, and those eyes—don’t even get me started. I don’t like the heightened emotions she brings out in me, how she has this ability to goad me with just a look.

  And when she touched me? Oh, fuck nah. I didn’t dig that at all.

  But right now it’s my brother I’m thinking about. He missed gym class, and I was barely able to force myself to sit still until the bell rang before going to look for him.

  I open the door to the workout room inside the field house and there he is, pounding his gloved fists into the professional sparring bag hanging from the ceiling. Sweat drips down his face as he pummels the bouncing apparatus again and again.

  Eminem blares from his phone, and I jog over and turn it off. He ignores me, face red and inscrutable as he continues his workout.

  I cross my arms, watching him. “You missed the sprints Coach asked us to do on the field. We went over plays for our opening game and you weren’t even there. Gym is still a class. You get a grade for it.”

  “I’m sure he won’t mind me missing one day.” He barks out a laugh. “But you…if you missed, there’d be hell to pay.”

  “We’re a team, Dane. I just want you to stay focused. Football helps with your mood swings.”

  He shrugs, grabs a towel, and wipes his face.

  Exasperation makes my voice rise. “You’re acting off, almost—”

  “Crazy?” His voice trembles around the edges as if he’s fighting emotion.

  I stiffen and narrow my eyes. “You’re not crazy, but I don’t think you’ve dealt with what happened at the bonfire party. I know it brings back all those memories of Mom—”

  “Oh and you have? PLEASE. You’re just as messed up as I am—you just hide it better. You run around in secret and dig up everyone’s past. Tell me, does she know you know everything about her?”

  I exhale. “No.”

  He studies me. “I don’t know what you’re doing with her, but it’s weird. I don’t trust it.” He brushes past me to head to the showers, but I grab his arm.

  “Forget her. I know you’re using again, and I don’t mean pot and Molly. You’re doing the hard stuff—”

  “So?” He tilts his head, and in that moment, his vulnerable expression reminds me of Mom’s then I’m sucked back into the past and seeing her floating face down in our pool still wearing her nightgown. I swallow thickly, trying to push those images away, but little tendrils of those last memories sneak in until I can see Dane and me coming home from school, calling her name. Usually, she’d be at the piano, pretending to play even though I knew she’d grown to despise it, or she’d be knitting, not anything in particular, just a long, knotty rope of nothing.

  The night before, she and Dad had had one of their epic arguments—he wanted her to go back to the mental health facility, had begged her to listen to reason while she screamed at him to just leave her and never come back. The reverberations of that suffering emotion had lingered even when we’d left that morning, us heading to school and Dad off to New York for a business deal.

  I rub the scar on my face.

  Dane flinches, watching me. “Stop thinking about Mom.”

  Ignoring that, I forge on, “Look, I can’t walk in on you overdosed, you feel me? Not like Mom. You’re the only person I care about, and if you leave me, who the hell is going to remind me that I’m a dick and shouldn’t be keeping tabs on Ava Harris?”

  He looks away from me.

  I study his face. “Dane.”

  “Knox.”

  “Stop with the attitude.”

  He heaves out a sigh. “Why? Dad isn’t coming back for another week, and don’t you think he should be?”

  I give him a quizzical look. Dad said he’d be back today.

  He smirks. “Suzy sent the text. Guess you haven’t checked your phone.”

  I exhale, dropping his arm. Suzy is our nanny and lives at our house off and on, keeping an eye on us, cooking dinner and making sure the fridge is stocked and the grounds are taken care of. She’s really more personal assistant than nanny now.

  A flicker of defeat crosses his face. “I hate him, you know.”

  “No, you don’t. He’s our dad.” And he’s just as screwed up as we are. “If you’re doing this to punish him, the only person you’re hurting is you. And me.” I sigh. “If Liam is encouraging you to do the hard stuff, he isn’t your friend, Dane. Don’t be stupid when it comes to him.”

  Dane’s been in this strange spiral since the kegger. He was out of control that night, too, high as shit, all over Ava, dancing with her, his hands on her waist—

  As if he knows what I’m thinking, he says, “I didn’t do that to her, brother.”

  He may be screwed up, but underneath that screwed-up exterior, no is no.

  He’d never assault a girl.

  I know my own brother.

  “Does seeing her bother you?” I ask. “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

  He gives me a look. “I’m not Mom. I’m fine. I have meds.”

  He’s done therapy on and off, but now, I sense more is wrong, and I’m never wrong when it comes to him. And Ava is back.

  “What do you remember from that night? Tell me again.”

  He shoves a hand through his hair. “Not much.”

  I’ve caught his little looks at her. I mean, we’ve all checked her out. It’s hard not to notice her. She’s devastatingly beautiful, although I don’t think she knows it. There’s no fake there. No expensive perfumes. No makeup except for those lips. Maybe it’s the way she smiles, just a little curve when she’s amused, her lips pouty and full.

  Dane shrugs. “I thought she was pretty, but she wasn’t part of our crowd.” A smirk flashes. “Plus, I avoid the nice girls—just like you. She’s the one girl who never gave you a second glance. I like that about her for sure. Shit, the way she looked at you during class was the best laugh I’ve had in months. She hates your guts—”

  “Let’s not talk about it.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “What’s up with that she can sit with me shit? Chance’s going to be pissed.”

  He is. He turned his back to me in the hall after class and marched off.

  “She isn’t with him.”

  His eyes flare, and he laughs. “Well, well, well, is a girl finally going
to ruin the best bromance at Camden?”

  “I don’t have a thing for Ava.”

  “Because you’re a loyal sonofabitch.”

  “I don’t want to be near Ava, and it has nothing to do with my best friend.”

  A sigh of relief comes from him. “Good. She’s trouble. About that night…I woke up the next day at Liam’s. I drank my ass off, but I would never…” He exhales. “There’s no way I’d ever hurt a girl.”

  It’s the same story he’s had since day one.

  He looks down. “You gonna give me a ride home after practice?”

  His matching Mercedes is in the shop from a fender bender last week, driving too fast around a curve and hitting a guardrail, scratching the side. Liam was with him, and part of me wonders if he was high even then.

  “You gonna go see Coach and tell him you’re sorry you missed today?”

  He looks at me over his shoulder, resignation on his face. “Yes. Happy? Right now I need to clean up and get to World History.” He looks down at his watch. “I’m late already.”

  He disappears into the locker room, and I jog over to his backpack, unzipping it and riffling through the contents. There are no drugs, although I’m sure he knows how to hide them.

  The question is, is he keeping other secrets from me too?

  7

  I’m giddy when the text comes in from Trask that there’s a place for Tyler at the elementary campus and he’s arranged for me to meet with the headmaster there this afternoon. Apparently one of their scholarship students transferred at the last minute when his parents moved. Do I believe it or did Trask buy my threats? I don’t know, and shit, I don’t care how it happened, but it did! As I walk down the hall, several students give me wary looks, and I just smile. Yes, yes, yes! My baby brother will be one block away from me during the day, and I can maybe even jog over there during lunch and—