Page 109 of Avenged

She, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed. “That was a stupid mistake. We all make stupid mistakes. We’re allowed them. It’s how we learn.”

I shook my head. “Stupid mistakes cost lives.”

Violet hugged me, placing her head on my shoulder. “It isn’t your fault that Ana died.”

The sob caught in my throat.

She continued, “It isn’t your fault that I was in the car and lost my spleen.”

We sat, holding each other, tears still flowing, and I could feel hers mingled with mine. Over the last few weeks, I’d realized how much I’d held her back. I didn’t want to do that again. I wanted to let her soar. Let her be seen in the world the way she deserved to be seen.

“You’ve been through so much. I don’t ever...” The sob stuck in my throat. I took a moment to collect myself. “I don’t ever want to be the reason you don’t get what you want again.”

She pulled away and said, “You act like my life has been miserable.”

“Staying in sleazy hotels and barely being able to afford food was pretty awful.”

“Do you know what I remember from that time?” she asked. I shook my head, and she continued, “I remember my sister picking me up after school every day. I remember her making me mac and cheese and adding pepperoni as an extra treat when we could afford it. I remember you making me comic books from hotel notepads and old newspapers with superheroes you’d made up, like Captain Missing Socks. I remember you reading to me at night and tucking me in to whatever bed we were in. It was an adventure.”

“Violet…that was not an adventure.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but you made it seem that way.”

I’d wanted to give her a piece of Mom. The piece I’d gotten that she’d never seen. The mom who’d made everything a game. She linked her arms with mine again. “It’s time we both have new adventures. You with Truck. Me at college.”

“You’re only?”

“Sixteen. How could I forget when everyone says it on repeat? But now I get to go away to college where there are other people who love science and bugs and all the things I do. I get to find new ways to help people like me.”

I laughed through my tears. “I really have read you too many comic books if you think you can get an insect to regrow your spleen.”

She laughed. “Okay, maybe not people just like me.”

I hugged her tightly until she protested about her sore body from the accident, and I let her go. My baby sister was leaving for college.

“Wait. Where are you going?” I asked.

She gave me a small, secretive smile. “I’ll tell you, but not now. Not until you fix things with Truck.”

Did it really matter where she went? She was leaving. But I also knew she was right. It was time for me to have a new adventure, too. Maybe I could trust she’d be okay, just like she said. Just like I’d asked Truck to trust I’d tell him when I was hurting. I hadn’t done that. I’d kept the hurt inside instead of telling him about it. It hadn’t been physical pain, but it had still been pain. Maybe I could put aside all the hurt, and the guilt, and the past in order to live a new unknown journey with someone I loved and who loved me back.

Like a flash of lightning, a line from Glasswing hit me in the heart. A line when she was doubting her vigilante ways, because it kept coming between her and the people in her life. It read: “Following your heart shouldn’t be surrounded in guilt. It’s your soul’s way of telling you your truth.”

My heart already knew what it wanted. It wanted Truck. It wanted a life with him in whatever form that looked like. If he’d have me. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered my words to him as I’d left Mandy and Leena’s.

“I hurt him,” I said quietly.

She smiled, because she saw my words for what they were: giving in. Surrendering just like she said I needed to do. “But he loves you. It isn’t too late.”

“I don’t even know how to start to make it right.”

“Sex,” she responded, and I hit her with my hand on the shoulder. “Just teasing,” she said. “Well. Not really. I’ve heard that sex is the best way to fix everything with a guy.”

“People lie. Who have you gotten this misguided information from?”

Our eyes made contact, and we both said, “Jada!” at the same time before bursting into laughter. We laughed until both our stomachs hurt, and this time, it was the good kind of ache. An ache that was light and happy, and not dark and stabby.

I jumped up and stumbled just ever so slightly.

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