Page 9 of Leave Before I Love You
I smile, curling my fingers into the sand mindlessly. “Let her rip, then. Let’s hear one.”
Avery’s face is noticeably lighter as she transports herself into her memories.
“When we were little, I used to like to play dress-up tea party. My mom used to make Beau play with me. At first, he hated it. But then? He got into it. Like,aggressivelyinto it.” Her eyes brighten with amusement, and she fights the urge to laugh. “And when I grew out of it? He made me keep playing. He called himself ‘PrettyLittle Princess,’ held out his pinkie when he drank imaginary tea and everything.”
“Holy shit!” I say in a burst, my face aching from the size of my smile. “And how long did this go on?”
“He was in eighth grade the last time he made me play!” she screams, and I fall back into the sand with a thud, hysterical and howling.
“Oh my God! More! I need more!”
Avery laughs, turning to face me and getting up on her knees for this one, her whole body vibrating. “Okay. High school graduation. Beau got drunk on my dad’s vodka and puked in our bushes out front. You could smell the vomit for days until the landscapers found it, and to this day, my parents think it was Ronnie.”
I guffaw. “Ronnie always holds his vodka! It’s whiskey that’s his problem.”
“I know! What about you? You have to have another one!”
I smile lazily. “Oh, Ave, I’ve got secrets for days.”
“Do one about Beau again,” she insists. “It’s distracting me.”
I nod, thinking through my Rolodex of twenty-five years of memories, settling on another night Beau would kill to have expunged from God’s official record. “Oh yeah. This one’s gold.”
“What? What?” Avery presses, shuffling closer on her knees, eyes bright with anticipation.
“One night, we were out at a club…Poison, I think, right after it opened. Beau and Bethany had just broken up, and she was very obviously with Seth. Tension? Off the goddamn charts.” I grimace. “This girl in a tight black dress was all over Beau the whole night, and because he was mad and mixed up and all fucked in the head from that stupid dickhead stealing his girl, he was eating it up. Feeding her shit out of his teeth and letting her grind all over him and everything. He gets three fingers into a good time with the girl in the booth, and this giant lurch of a fucking guy comes over spouting angry threats about rearranging his body for getting with his wife.”
“Oh my God!” Avery cracks up, already loving where this is going.
And of course, I keep talking.
“Beau’s all bravado and shit, thinking he’s an upstanding gentleman like usual, thinking he’s got it under control. And he’s being all polite, trying to reason with the guy like he’s in a goddamn courtroom. But the dude just points to the girl…the one in the black dress… and says,Oh yeah? This is her. My wife.”
Avery gasps before bursting into laughter, clutching her stomach.
“We’ve never gotten out of somewhere so fucking fast,” I add through a chuckle, running a hand through my sandy hair. “Mav threw a drink in the dude’s face just to buy us some time, and we hightailed it out of there like Usain Bolt. I swear, Beau went to Mass for like three weeks straight, hoping to cleanse his soul or some shit, but the fact that he got shanghaied into helping someone cheat still haunts him.”
“He’s such a do-gooder, I swear.” Avery rolls her eyes. “And that bitch Bethany and the sad excuse you guys had as a friend in Seth McKenzie can go straight to hell.”
Crazy to think that, back then, the tragic breakup between Beau and his high school sweetheart—aka total cheating bitch—Bethany was such abigdeal. No doubt, it was a true mindfuck that Beau’s girlfriend was down-low fucking Seth McKenzie, a guy that had been in our friend group since we were kids. It had felt like the end of the world back then. But in hindsight? It pales in comparison to what Avery and I are facing now.
Unexpectedly, a sob bubbles up from her chest and startles me. “Beau’s stupid and perfect and such a good brother, and I’m never going to see him again,” she wails.
“Hey,” I comfort, scooting over to her and pulling her under my arm.
I lay us back in the sand and pull her into my side, rubbing at her long brown hair with the hand behind her back. I know the Avery ofa day ago would be complaining about the sand in her hair or that the way I’m holding her is twisting her expensive bathing suit, but this one is still too busy grappling with shock. I’m hoping the heat of my body against hers will be grounding—that she’ll snap out of the haze and yell at me for hugging her without her permission or tell me she’s way out of my league.
It’s a weird wish, but at the same time, it’d be confirmation that she’s okay.
“Shh. It’s going to be all right. I’m sure they’re looking for us by now, and they all knew our destination and our flight path and everything. They’ll find us in no time.”
“Are you sure?”
I have no idea if it’s true.
But for her? I’ll believe it until my last breath.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
