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I didn't like it when talked to him, so sometimes I kept stuff from her, wanting to quell her urge to straighten out my life for me. I loved her devotion, but it was tiring sometimes.
We stayed on light topics-which cheered me up-carrying on about Analogs' show and I was telling her how I still hadn't corralled my courage and asked The Foster, but regardless, it was decided. We were committed. We were going to AC's shows. Screw curfews and rule books. What was a few hundred miles for true love?
We were both bursting, trying to hide our laughter when Avery got a mischievous glint in her eye. As I was about to ask what she was thinking she stood from the bench. Her arm drew back and sprang forward.
I watched the yellow jellybean she threw peg an unsuspecting freshman. He was just walking by then-boom, right to the temple! It bounced down his cheek and fell into the open pocket of his backpack. He turned and glared at us.
"That was just a practice shot." Avery looked at my empty hands and then across the quad. "Ate yours, did you?"
"You're on a tear today, Miss Menstrual. And of course I ate them. You know jellybeans are my favorite."
I followed her glare to the spiky hair of one Troy Bleecher. He was in our senior class. He was also kinda hot, which meant he was a snob, which also meant he had money, which meant he was a complete want-for-nothing dickhead. He was very, very popular.
When I first came to Carlisle I didn't know a soul, except Avery of course. She moved around a lot because of her moms' job. Anyways, Mr. Popular-Troy Bleecher-asked me out on my second day of school. Jake and I weren't a thing then, so I considered the option. But Avery said he was a jerk, so I turned him down. The next day, he crept up behind me in the lunch line and paid for my food without asking, and then he asked me out again. And asked again the day after that. I wasn't used to guys talking to me, at least not ones with so much confidence, ones who were still polite after I said 'no.'
Troy was so sure we'd have a good time together I thought maybe he was right. So, I let him take me to the movies. He was the perfect gentleman; didn't make a move to hold my hand or kiss me, save the little peck he placed on my cheek right before I got out of his car. The next day though, everyone in school was listening to Troy tell a story about how I tackled him inside his car after the movie and begged him to have sex with me.
Avery, who hated him enough for the both of us, handed me one of her jellybeans, a misshapen green one slightly bigger than average.
I tossed it, hard, at the mess of spiky hair half-way across the small quad. His tanned hand flew up and caught the candy. He was looking right at me. Avery started laughing, but I was suddenly sweating.
She remained standing, yelling to him, "Oh, Troy, I didn't mean to hit you in the chest," and blew a kiss. To me, she turned and whispered, "You throw like a girl."
Troy was suddenly standing in front of us. His perfectly styled mess of hair sat over his big brown eyes. In between them was a crumpled brow. "Are you crazy or something?"
Avery chuckled humorlessly. "Yes. I can comfortably say, 'you have made me crazy.' Does that make you feel better?"
She gave me a quick look that said, stay calm. She knew I didn't do confrontation. I couldn't help it. The way Troy's shoulders were ratcheting up made me want to hide. I wondered at the veins pulsing in his neck while wishing to be somewhere else.
Doctor Williams had told me that when I felt anxiety, I should imagine I was some place safe. So I pretended to be tucked away inside my room, back in the furthest corner of my closet-where I liked to sit and listen to my music when the world got to be too much. I could almost hear the sweet melody of Jakes' voice pouring from my boom box.
The sun won't shine the way it used to
My knee deep sky . . .
All the green dreams died and I'm drawn beneath the moon
You're mine and gone so far, too soon
Forever I'll be down here, looking up at you,
Beneath the knee deep sky.
I asked Jake once, why he chose knee-deep to describe a lonely night. He'd told me, "Because people never look away from themselves until they're on their knees."
Troy turned away, sighing deeply. Avery's middle finger flew up tall and proud, daring him to say something.
He kept walking.
+ + +
15
-Avery
I hate this place.
The floors are filthy. The food is disgusting. And the people are even worse than the filthy rodents climbing inside the walls.
