Page 25 of This I Know
“I know you’re smart –”
“You really think I wasn’t being smart? Like it was my fault, or something? I’m not dumb.” I’m losing my cool. I shouldn’t be talking to her like this, but I really wish she hadn’t used that word.
“Now, Avery, you know that’s not true. Just because I want you to be smart about things doesn’t mean you’re dumb. All I meant was I know how you are with that boy, and I’ve been trying to tell you he’s not good for you. Right? I’ve been telling you that from the beginning.”
“Well, good,” I say almost under my breath. I know she’s right. She always is. “Because I’m not dumb.”
“Avery,” she says, her voice more soothing this time. She pats the area next to her. “Come here.”
I rise from my seat and go to her. She’s probably going to wrap her arm around me, just like Mara. That would be so her, and just what I need right now.
“I know you’ve been through a lot,” she says. Her arm doesn’t move. “But we need to get something straight. I don’t want any more boys –”
I start to interrupt her but she stops me.
“–unlessyou bring them to meet me first. After everything that’s happened to you, that’s the way it’s got to be around here. Deal?”
I open my mouth again, and once more she holds her hand up.
“No more arguing. This is the way it’s going to be. I wish I’d had this talk with you sooner.” She brings her hand to her eyes.
I still can’t understand why she keeps connecting Cole to my attack in such a way, but I force her arm away from her face. I place my hand on hers. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I understand how she must be feeling, and I know what she wants from me. And seeing her like this makes me realize I’ll do anything if it’ll make her feel better. I’ll do anything just to get that look off her face. I lean in to her, resting my head on her shoulder.
“Okay. Don’t worry, Mom.”
And I really do mean it. Because I want more than anything for her to be able to not worry for once. Not about me, at least. She shouldn’t have to.
She hugs me, bringing me in closer and smashing her face against mine. “I love you, dear. You know I do.” She gets up. “Now, get back to work on your homework.” She pauses before she leaves, turning back to me before closing the door. “I’m making some of your favorite brownies.”
I smile weakly. “The ones with the chunks of chocolate?” Way to go, Mom. Way to bring back the comforting nostalgia of childhood just when I need it the most.
She nods. “They’ll be ready in a few.”
“Thanks, Mom.” This time, I hope she can sense the sincerity in my voice.
She shuts the door and I listen as her footsteps fade down the stairs.
I collapse backwards onto the bed. I lean over toward my nightstand, again taking my flower into my hands. I haven’t told anyone this, but I like to think it was left there by an angel, and that maybe, just maybe, that means that despite what happened to me, someone’s looking out for me after all.
It’s a week later, and I’ve kept my promise to my mom. I haven’t run into Cole, but what would really make her proud is that I haven’t even been looking for him. And that’s a step in the right direction. With every day that passes he’s closer to leaving my mind.
I’m heading to fourth period – Chemistry. I pray that Ethan will stay in his seat and not magically appear next to me, as if I could flatter myself anymore by thinking such a thing. But Mr. Miller doesn’t assign seats, so hey … it could happen.
So far, Mara’s right; every time I’ve seen him, he’s kept to himself, not speaking to a soul. At first I thought it couldn’t be true, someone that good looking just had to be popular, but it looks like it’s actually true. He’s a loner. The only time I’ve seen him socialize is with that preppy girl in the hallway. Julia Crane, I think her name is. But does that even count? What guywouldn’tsocialize with Julia Crane? Her looks place her that Irresistible category, and that comes with conditions. Such as, the majority of guys getting up in your business.
This time, it’s me who’s running late to Chemistry. I had to stop off at the office to deliver a note from my doctor excusing me from gym class for the next few weeks, a note that we’ve been trying to get for quite some time; I swear I never heard the bell ring from deep inside that office, and before I knew it, I’m late.
I’m hurrying into class, shuffling my books around in my arms, hoping I haven’t dropped anything in my rush, when I reach out to pull the door open. This is going to be embarrassing. I can’t easily brush mistakes like this off. I’ll be thinking back on this moment and cringing for the next several days, so now I’ve got that to look forward to.
I reach the knob and push it down, pull it toward me, but just as I do so, my pen falls. My only pen at the moment, which just so happens to also be my favorite pen. (Everyone has a favorite pen, right?) Damn it. I bend to pick it up, and just as I do, my face somehow meets with the door.
Wait, that shouldn’t have happened. I stay where I am, slightly stunned. How did that just happen?
“Oh!” says a voice, booming above me.
I look up. It’s John, from the front row. John and I briefly worked on a group project together last week. He reaches down and grabs my hand to help me up.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. His face is stoic and he’s genuinely concerned.
