Page 20

Chapter Twenty

“You okay?” Sam asks as soon as I yank the car door open.

I crawl into the backseat, resisting the urge to scream, drive, drive, drive . I click my seatbelt in place and chance a peek at the front of the shelter as Sam pulls away. No one is chasing after me. No one is yelling obscenities at me. Dylan wasn’t even concerned enough to come look for me.

“Yeah, I’m—” I sigh. Why hide my feelings from my two best friends? “No, I’m not.”

“Dylan?” Bek asks. As usual, she’s staring out the passenger window looking like she’s lost in her own thoughts and not even paying attention.

“Yeah. No.” I growl and slam my eyes closed. “Kind of, I guess.”

“He’s sweet. You should—”

I cut her off. “No, Bek. It has nothing to do with him being sweet. Please, stop saying that.”

My friends share a look across the front seat but say nothing.

My body trembles with anger or frustration or maybe fear. That’s the most forceful I’ve ever spoken to them. Or to anyone, for that matter. I clench my fists, waiting for Bek to snap back at me, but my friend stays silent. Finally, Sam speaks.

“We are here for you when you’re ready to talk about it, Ava.”

My mouth quivers and I stare out my window too, so that I don’t have to make eye contact with Sam in the rearview mirror. “Thanks.”

“How about we hang in my room tonight?” Sam asks. “We can order pizza and binge that new series with the haunted house.”

A tear tumbles down my cheek at the grace Sam is showing me. I really do have the world’s best friends. “That’d be great,” I whisper.

“No anchovies,” Bek says. “I’m allergic.”

I can’t help but meet Sam’s gaze in the mirror over that remark. As I suspected, her eyes are crazy and wide. I chuckle, and the laughter feels like a balm on my soul.

Though we so often spend the night, it has been a while since we hung out at Sam’s together. I hang my bag on my hook in the closet, its existence once again reminding me how lucky I am to have this place and these people. Bek has her own hook next to mine. It seems like her Hello Kitty messenger bag is always hanging from it. Bek spends more time at Sam’s house than I do. Not because they are any closer than I am with either of them, but because I volunteer. I actually suspect Bek and I are closer friends than Bek and Sam. To me, Sam and Bek act more like sisters. Bek tends to drive Sam crazy. I think back to the expression on Sam’s face when Bek reminded her not to order anchovies and chuckle. I touch Bek’s hook lovingly and rejoin my friends.

Sam has already ordered the pizza and is scrolling through the selections on the streaming app, looking for the haunted house show. Bek is curled up under a blanket on her favorite bubble chair giving commentary on the shows we aren’t even considering as they scroll by. I climb onto the bed beside Sam. My muscles ache like I worked physically hard today, but I suspect it’s from all the emotions I’ve been processing.

Sam pauses. “We’ve always wanted to watch this show. Should we watch it instead?”

I tense when I see which show she’s talking about. I don’t want to watch it, but I shrug a shoulder instead, letting my friends decide. Grabbing the pillow from behind me, I hug it in my lap.

“Sure,” Bek says.

Sam hits the enter button to start the show, and a ball of heat courses through me.

“Wait!” I blurt. “I don’t want to watch it.”

Sam hits the pause button and stares at me thoughtfully. Bek sits up straight and leans forward so she can see me, too.

My pulse races. The pounding is all I can hear. I gulp down the cursed fear that bubbles inside me. “It’s about a dysfunctional family. I just don’t think I can handle it.”

Sam grins and pats me on the knee. “Okay. Haunted house it is.”

Bek smiles knowingly before settling back into her bubble.

My pulse still hammers, but it’s as much from exhilaration as fear. I spoke my mind. I voiced an opinion other than the one my friends shared. And nobody yelled or screamed. In my heart, I know I’m safe with my friends. Heck, I could argue for slavery, and they would probably still love me. Okay, maybe not anything that horrible, but I know my friends are my safe zone. Why haven’t I been taking advantage of that all along?

It takes the whole opening credits for my heart rate to return to normal, but soon afterward, it’s rapid again with anticipation of the show. And we laugh nervously each time we startle or squeal from the scary storyline.

When I rise from my slumber in the morning, I embrace my foggy mind and lay with my eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep. Instinctually, I know it’s time to get up and get ready for a day at the shelter, but I dread it. I don’t want to face Dylan. He might ignore me and go about his tasks, but he could choose to confront me instead. I’m not sure which would be worse. I consider pretending to be sick again. The idea of spending the day with my friends is tempting. It’s just a volunteer gig.

I sigh. They rely on me at the shelter. Especially on weekends when there are more adoptions to keep the staff busy.

“Ava? You awake?” Sam whispers. After an extended silence, I feel the softest brush of a finger as Sam moves hair off my face. “I know you’re awake, Ava. People don’t sigh in their sleep.”

“I was sleep sighing,” I grumble, not opening my eyes.

“What kind of sigh? A sigh of discontentment? A sigh of reluctant acceptance?” Sam giggles. “I know! It was a sigh of pleasure, wasn’t it? Your dream man just gave you the best kiss you’ve ever had and made you sigh contentedly.”

I open a single eye and remain snuggled into my pillow. Sam lays facing me on the bed. “That would have to be a dream, wouldn’t it?”

Sam frowns. “Why?”

“The best kiss I’ve ever received?” I open both eyes as I arch my brows. “I guess any kiss would automatically qualify, since it would be my first.”

Sam’s gaze scans my face. “Not for a lack of admirers.”

I roll my eyes. “There are no admirers, Sam.”

“Ava.” Sam’s whispered tone is serious. “You need to stop punishing yourself for having a crappy mom. I’ve been telling you for years. You are not your mom. Neither are any of the guys who have expressed interest. The world is not filled with people like your mom.”

I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep again, just so I don’t have to look my friend in the sympathetic eye.

“Do you really think that you found the only three people on this earth who aren’t like your mom?” Sam asks.

My eyes fly open. “Three?”

“Bek, me, and Joel.”

I close my eyes again. Maybe it’s because I’ve been thinking of him, but I thought Sam was including Dylan in the three. Of course, the third person is my brother. Sam and Bek may not know Joel well, since they never spend time at my house, but they both know how I feel about him.

“Don’t you have to get ready to go?” Sam’s tone is gentle. Like she knows she risks scaring me away with the question.

I pull the covers over my head.

Sam copies me and repeats her question.

I peek through one eye. Finding Sam hiding under the covers with me, a caring expression on her face, makes me sigh and open both eyes. My own gaze has to be swimming with my fear.

“I’m afraid to see him.”

Sam knows I’m referring to Dylan. “Why?”

Tears leak out of my eyes and track sideways on my face. “Please don’t tell Bek I said this, but he is really sweet.”

“I heard that,” Bek says.

My chuckle sounds choked because I’m still crying. I uncover Sam and me and sit up.

Bek swivels the bubble to face the bed. Her tone is gentle but persistent. “Why is that a problem?”

My stomach clenches. Silent sobs shake my shoulders. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I’m not even sure I can speak, I’m crying so hard, but I try. “I’m afraid.”

Sam scrambles until she can throw her arms around me. Bek jumps onto the bed and tucks up against my other side. I’m enveloped by my friends, and it makes me cry harder. My sobs shake the bed. Sam and Bek croon comforting words in my ears and the three of us rock back and forth like we’re riding the waves on a boat.

By the time my sobs subside, I’m questioning what I was crying about in the first place. My body is exhausted, and as much as I want to curl back up under the covers, I know I owe the girls some sort of explanation. I gently extract myself from the pile, and we each settle into our own comfortable spot on the bed. Bek rests a hand over my ankle, Sam’s is on my arm. It’s touching how they automatically act as my tether, keeping me grounded.

The fear has become its own entity in my mind and it’s standing in front of all my other thoughts. I have to think my way around it to remember what it is about seeing Dylan that has me so afraid. And when I remember, my body quivers with the realization that I now must admit it aloud to my friends.

I clear my throat.

“I told you guys how Popeye—the dog that was rescued from the fight ring—trusted Dylan from the beginning.”

They nod. “Well, yesterday, Dylan wasn’t around when it came time to clean Popeye’s kennel, so I let the dog out, and for the first time since he came to the shelter, he looked at me.” For some reason, I don’t feel right sharing Dylan’s moment of insecurity with the girls. It feels too personal, so I skip over that part. “When I told Dylan how he was helping Popeye to trust again…”

My throat clenches. The words are so soaked with emotion, that they are too swollen for me to finish my thought.

But Bek gasps.

“It’s working on you too.”

I stare at my friend before I finally nod in acknowledgement. I swallow. “That’s why I ran away. You know, like I always do. I physically ran.” I bury my face in my hands with a groan. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Ava, it’s okay.” Sam’s hand runs up and down my arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m a little confused about why you ran. Can you explain it to me?”

Bek pats my foot. “She already told us.”

Sam and I look at Bek, whose understanding expression is full of compassion. I blush, but I’d much rather have Bek say it than for me to say it again.

“Because you’re afraid.”

Sam huffs and looks at me. “Is she right?” At my nod, Sam lets out another frustrated breath. “I’m sorry, Ava, but I don’t understand. What are you afraid of? He hasn’t shown any indication of being someone who would be loud or abusive when he gets mad, has he?”

I glance at Bek, who clearly knows the answer as much as I do, but she dips her chin to encourage me to answer.

I draw in a deep breath and hold it longer than normal. When I let it out, I consider my response. I don’t even know how to explain it. Sam fidgets beside me, looking between Bek and me.

“Sam, I’ve spent my whole life hiding. I don’t like to attract attention, because I worry that any relationship I have will end up in a screaming match.” I meet Sam’s gaze. “No, Dylan doesn’t seem like anyone who would do that, but the difference this time…”

I swallow again. Panic builds in my chest until it feels like I might burst. Does saying something out loud give it a kinetic energy so it can take on a life of its own? Was there no going back once I say this?

Bek pats my foot again. “Go on.”

I stare down at the comforter when I speak. “I’m afraid because this is the first time I’ve cared.”

I sigh deeply. My body relaxes like a weight has just been lifted. My head is clearer. And I can look at my friends and smile. “I care about Dylan Scott. And if I’m only a temporary stop in his life, it’ll break my heart.”

Sam throws her hands in the air. “Why are you smiling about this?”

I laugh. “Because, Sam. I like Dylan Scott.”

Sam’s eyes pop wide. “Oh. Oh!” She looks at Bek, who arches a wry eyebrow. Sam claps excitedly. “Ava likes a boy!”

My laugh turns a bit hysterical as the full impact of what I admitted dawns on me. I do indeed like a boy, and I suspect the boy likes me back. At least a little. I might never have the courage to even hint at my feelings to him but for now, it’s a revelation to admit them to my friends. And myself.