All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) (13 page)

“I kinda have a boyfriend,” I said.
Kinda
because I
wasn’t really sure where Nash and I stood with each other, but it was a
commitment of some kind, and I didn’t date around while seeing someone.

“You don’t seem to care too much. Why should I?” His hand
slid higher up my thigh.

“I do care.” I pushed his hand off my leg. “Dancing’s one
thing, but …”

He pushed off the couch, I think with a huff even though I
couldn’t hear. Strange that Marcus hadn’t been here, throwing my fist around.

Seemed like you handled that one on your own.

Jasmine flopped on the couch next to me, but just long
enough to say, “Dance with me!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to my
feet. We threw our hands up in the air, getting into it. Jasper had someone new
already, I noticed, so I didn’t break his heart.

Kristina joined us, screaming, “Ladies rule!”

We danced hard till someone turned down the music a while
later. People were either leaving or sneaking off. Luckily everyone knows the
one hard rule of our house is people stay out of my room.

Jazz, Kris and I fell onto a couch, laughing, and then
talking while the party wound down the rest of the way. I had no idea what time
it was when Jazz yawned.

“Yeah, I better get to bed before I fall asleep here,” I
said, trying to get up.

Jazz moved too and I heard Kris say she’d get me. Kristina
slung my arm over her shoulders and we started back toward my room. I called
goodnight back to Jazz, trying to give her a look of thanks for watching out
for me that night.

Halfway down the hall, Kris started laughing.

“You shoulda invited Nash over tonight … he could hold you
while you’re sick.”

“I am not going to be sick!” We reached my bed and both of
us fell over. It took some rolling and wiggling but we ended up lying side by
side, looking up at the ceiling in the near darkness, laughing.

“Thanks for telling Kyle to be nice to me,” I said, which
sobered me up in about a second. Why had I said that? Now she’d really wonder
about things, if she saw us dancing. She mumbled something without lifting her
head, sounding a bit drunk, but also like she wanted to avoid the topic.

It was almost funny how quickly my buzz was going away.

“Back when I was dating Kyle, did you like him?” I asked.

It was utterly silent for a minute before I realized she was
starting to cry.

“You did?” I rolled to face her, surprised even after
suspecting it. “Did you steal Kyle?”

“I’m so sorry, Ave. I did. I did but I didn’t mean to. It
just happened. He was so nice to me.” She stopped abruptly. A minute later, she
said, “You
have
been mad at me all this time?”

Told you, didn’t I?

How could I answer her? I hadn’t expected to get it out of
her so easily. Then again, it’d almost been entrapment, the way I asked when
she was messed up. Maybe I didn’t need to ask in the first place, but my asking
would make it hard for her to say anything about the way I’d acted tonight.

The way Kyle acted, you mean. He was hitting on you, babe.

“Who told you?” she asked, an edge to her voice.

Marcus. Ha. Should I try explaining? I wanted to tell her
about Marcus, I think, but not like this or right now.

“I’m not exactly sure when or how, but I think I just saw
it, in retrospect.”

“Ave?”

She was waiting for me to get mad. I was too. Maybe it was
the alcohol, but I didn’t care at the moment. “Yeah?”

“You don’t hate me?”

“No.” I should hate Kyle for being such a womanizing
prick-head, but I should have warned her about him too.

You could still warn her. Tell her about tonight.

I can’t do that, Marcus. I can’t hurt her like that.

That’s hurting her? Telling the truth?

I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything. Then I lay there
silent for several minutes, feeling like I stood at the end of a diving board.
Our breathing synchronized, both fast and nervous.

“Kristina?” It sounded like Kyle calling her.

She slid out of bed and whispered goodnight, the way she’d
done so many times before, but I wondered if we’d ever do this again.

***

I woke up feeling … hung over. I burrowed down into the
covers and hid under my pillow, but something told me things wouldn’t get
better on their own.

Marcus? Not feeling so good …

Not much of a drinker, are you?

“I’m not old enough to be much of a drinker! Now tell me how
to fix this.”

What makes you think I know how to fix a hangover? Christ.
Okay. Water, Ibuprofen, and toast.

I struggled out of bed and toward the bathroom. “Does
Tylenol cut it?” I looked at my medicine supply, thinking it shouldn’t matter
which medicine I used.

Ibuprofen if you have it.

I dug a little deeper into my medicine and found a bottle. I
also had Ritz crackers in my room and opted for that over going to the kitchen
and making toast. I grabbed a glass of water and nibbled crackers while sitting
in the computer chair. Normally I loved my Ritz with hot chocolate, but not
today.

I crawled back into bed. Thankfully the house was fairly
quiet. Just a low murmur here and there, the TV flicking on and turning down,
the toilet flushing. The subtle sounds lured me back to sleep.

***

Feeling better?

For a moment I thought only about how smooth and nice his
voice sounded, and then I realized I felt pretty good.

“Yes, thanks.”

Nash is tearing your phone up …

“You don’t sound like you want me to jump up and answer
him,” I said. Marcus didn’t answer, and I reached for my phone. Nash wanted to
know if I was free that night. Hoping I’d feel better by then, I texted back
that we could hang out.

“Marcus, are you mad about last night?”

Should I be? What are your rules on this one?

I laughed despite everything, then pulled myself out of bed.
I took a shower and went out to the living room to help clean up. Actually, no
one had started yet, so I picked up trash, put the cans in a bag to recycle,
and washed counters. I was cutting up the plastic beer can holders when Marcus
laughed.

What are you doing?

“I don’t want them to get stuck on a turtle or something.”

Seriously?

“Yes, seriously, it happens. These wash out into the ocean
and get stuck on animals.”

Huh.

We were still talking when Kristina walked out in a tank top
and pajama pants, yawning. Her hair was puffed up pretty high today, but still
in tiny ringlets.

“Word! That was crazy last night!” She went to the coffee
pot and started a pot. “Don’t think I’m running out to Starbucks right now.”

We slipped onto the stools and watched the coffee start to
drip.

“So … um, you know that guy Jasper?” I asked.

She had to think for a second. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it,
Ave. No one’s going to tell Nash. It’s not like you took him to your room or
anything … right?”

“Uh, you helped me to bed, remember?”

She tilted her head. “Maybe, vaguely.” She found that funny.

I laughed, relieved. If she didn’t remember that, maybe she
didn’t remember our heart-to-heart about Kyle.

So you’re going to let her off the hook?

What do you want
, I asked him,
for me to jump all
over her
?
She’s not saying anything about me dancing with Kyle last
night.

Marcus about threw up.

Marcus

So I was a good boy. I was quiet while Avery cut up the plastic
beer holders, took out the trash, and even freaking hung Kyle’s sweater on the
coat rack. She took a shower and talked to Nash on the phone while I practiced
calm breathing in the corner of her mind.

I tried not to listen, but it was hard not to notice how
Nash sounded a little too curious about her night. I got the impression he’d
heard about her dancing with other guys. Maybe he knew about Kyle. That had to
confuse him after Avery shared the truth about Kyle. Well, I shared. For her
own good.

She left for the store without saying anything about it to
me. Not like she needed to discuss things with me. Her life and all. She could
flirt with anyone she wanted to. She could dance with anyone she wanted to. I
didn’t have any say in what she did, and I didn’t have any right to get angry
or even care. I didn’t care in fact. I didn’t give a rat’s ass what she did
with her life. Hell, if she wanted to date Nash and screw different guys at
drunken parties, she had my blessing!

Fuck!

Screw it. I
couldn’t
do it. But how the hell was I
going to do anything about it?

I’ll tell you how. I wouldn’t let her mess around like this
anymore. Who cared if she was confused. What about me?

We’d reached the little Safeway and recycled beer cans
before I noticed where we were. She walked into the grocery store feeling a bit
sluggish from the night before, not worrying about me. We passed a teenage girl
and I whistled.

The girl jerked her head back, did a double take, and hurried
out.

What the hell was that?

Just a little flirting. You know something about that.

What’s up with you?

Dunno. Guess I wanna have a little fun too, since we don’t seem
to have any standards and all.

She huffed out a breath and stopped in front of the bananas.

Marcus, do I need to leave the store? Or are you going to
let me shop?

Not sure I care either way. Not like I can eat in here. But
check out the ass on that chick over there.

She surprised me by looking, and then asking,
So that’s
your type?

No, it wasn’t. I tried not to tell Avery that, even as a
nice coating of guilt washed over me. I didn’t answer and she went back to
shopping, but she tried to avoid aisles with people in them. Then, when she was
intent on choosing a box of crackers—because it’s a life-or-death decision for
her—a hot girl about Avery’s age walked by. Taller, more blond than Avery, and
a boob job that said she was trying to impress. (Ya really don’t need
that
much.)

I turned Avery’s head and made her say, “
Bonjour
belle.
”

The chick looked back for a second,
her gaze swept up Avery, and she turned around with a curious smile on her
bright red and perfectly lined lips. Ohhh—didn’t see that coming!

“Hello,” the woman said.

Avery had no idea how to handle this.
I burst out laughing, making it even harder for her to think. The woman wasn’t
sure what to make of Avery’s wax figure impression and slowly turned around.
She looked back twice before turning the corner, though. I tried to tap down my
laughing.

Ave, babe, you could have some fun with
that one! College is the perfect time for experimenting, right?

I got the icy treatment for the rest
of the shopping trip, except for the long look Avery gave the beer case.

Bet you miss beer, don’t you? And
snowboarding? And playing your guitar? Yeah, you can kiss all that goodbye.

You know about kissing life goodbye,
don’t you, Avery?

I sneered the words, unable to stop.

You think you can be cold all the time so
you won’t end up like your dad. You think you can avoid that kind of pain again
if you steer clear of any guy who actually enjoys life and wants to have fun.

She stopped by a shelf, reaching for
something, but I don’t think she even saw what it was. Then she started
humming. What the hell? She hummed along with the stupid song playing in the
store and went on with her shopping, ignoring me. It was the first time she was
able to do that.

When we came up to the register, she picked the longest
line, and the only one with a male cashier. He was close to sixty with little
glasses and a smile, and he checked us out like we’d stepped back in time and
gone to a mom and pop store on the corner. That didn’t help Avery’s mood.

Outside, she threw herself into the driver’s seat, and
barely got the door shut before hissing, “You are acting like a two-year-old!”

Two-year-olds probably don’t get as horny as I do.

I just couldn’t quit!

She stopped with her hand on the key, and asked, “Is this
about last night?”

Bingo, I thought, but kept it to myself. It didn’t feel good
to realize how transparent I was acting.

“Marcus?”

We watched a guy in a suit walk by with his face down over
his phone. A young blond mom went the other way, bouncing a cute baby in front
of her, talking with a giant smile. I didn’t want to say anything. I like it
when she talks out loud to me, like I’m a real person in her world. I’d
accepted the frustrating-as-hell fact that her world was my only world.

“Marcus?”

I sighed.

Maybe it’s about last night.

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

And say what?

I wished I could pound on something. Or hit some 360s. Or
take Avery back to her bedroom and rip her clothes off. No, that’s not how I’d
do it at all.

What should I say, Ave? I hate listening to other guys flirt
with you. I hate it even more when they touch you. I think I might plow my fist
into Nash’s face. Or Kyle’s. Or the dickwad from last night. I can’t handle
this.

She groaned and tipped her head backwards, closed her eyes
and rubbed her face. “And what do I do about it?”

Stop dating.

I threw it out there in anger. She didn’t respond. We sat
and listened to the muffled sounds of life outside of the car. Seemed like we
both liked to talk in the car. The way it cocooned us away from the world made
us feel more normal.

I want to make you something.

She opened her eyes.

Go back in and get me a few things? I want to make you dinner.

It was something I could do, something that would be for her
and not just me wanting to snowboard or play music. I felt her struggle over
it, but her hand reached for the door handle.

“You’ll behave?” she asked, a warning in her voice.

Yes, ma’am.

I was busy trying to remember my ingredients.

An hour later, we were back at the house, standing on the
back porch while Avery tried to light the barbeque.

“I don’t think this thing has been used in a while,” she
said with an irritated growl. She tried to brush the corrosion off the gas
burners down in the bottom. We’d seasoned and wrapped salmon in the tin foil.
It was set on the side of the grill, waiting. She got the burners to light and
put the fish on, then turned down the gas like I said. Back inside, I walked
her through cutting up avocados, tomatoes and cilantro for the salsa, then
adding a little lime. Next she cut up the cabbage and wrapped the tortillas up
to warm up on the grill.

“So can you really cook?” she asked. “Or is this your one
dish to impress chicks?”

I thought about it, trying to remember anything else I could
make. Cold cereal came to mind first. Not a good sign. Wait … I knew how to
bake, grill and fry chicken. Chicken Marcella. Stuffed Chicken.

Avery laughed. “I’m seeing a theme here.” She opened a
bottle of orange pop and took a long swallow.

No, I can grill a mean steak too.

Backyard barbeques. Cold drinks. A few clouds going by.
Chilly spring air on our skin.

Seems like your friends should be here, ya know?

“Yeah. It’s just gotten so complicated to be around them.”

Well, this dinner will fix you up.

She smiled, getting up from the wicker chair to go inside
and get the other ingredients. When the fish was done, she put together her
taco and sat on the back porch to eat.

“These are amazing!”

The fish and tangy salsa blended together into perfection,
the way I knew it would. Out on the horizon, the sky grew hazy and purple as
twilight came on.

I would treat you so much better than Nash ever does. I’d take
you to a candlelit seafood dinner on a balcony, with flowers, music, an orange
sunset, and the best food you’d ever eaten. I’d dance with you someplace
classy. I want to take you places.

“Places?”

Foreign places with tropical palm trees and white sand beaches.
Then somewhere with snowcapped mountains and little hut villages. Then out to
sea. Europe. All over the world.

Ave shook her head slowly. “I don’t think you’ve lived a
normal life.”

There’s so much more out there, Avery. We should go see it. If
only we’d met some normal way.

“I know,” she whispered. “Life seems to tease me that way,
always showing me what I could have.”

Images of her parents flew through her mind—her dad’s wide
smile and her mom’s oh-honey look. Then I saw Kyle and Nash, in different
frames, different times. Even Kristina came to mind.

Ave, baby, life isn’t about losing everything.

“It isn’t? You can say that from where you are?”