Page 56 of This I Know
She’s sitting alone on a bench on the back deck, cupping a drink in her lap, in perfect view of the kitchen. She’s in a black dress, and it must be chillier than I thought out there because she now moves her hands to secure a cardigan over her shoulders, a little black clutch balancing in her fingertips
As I’m watching, a guy sits down next to her.
And I don’t realize until I look down that I’ve been loading too much ice into my cup, and the handful I’ve just placed has overflowed onto the counter. The cubes fall to the floor and shatter.
Avery
“Do you want a drink?” A familiar deep, raspy voice is beside my ear.
The music out here is blasting with a beating bass, so I can’t tell who it is from the voice alone in the mixture of all the sounds.
I turn and see it’s Brendan.
He takes a seat next to me on this uncomfortable wooden bench, and he’s dressed the best I’ve ever seen him, in a black button-down shirt and a nice pair of dark wash jeans. He’s even wearing contacts instead of his usual glasses, and his shoes look polished. He either actually sat around and polished them, or they’re brand new and he went out and bought them for this occasion. Either’s bad. That would be so Brendan, though.
The whole look is so unusual for him that I’m surprised he didn’t stick on a tie to complete the ensemble.
Brendan smiles, and for the first time I can see his true smile without the distraction of his heavy metal frames. “Well? Do you?”
I should brush him off right now. What I should really do is toss this cup right onto his fancy-pants party clothes. But I would never do that. He is just Brendan, after all.
“I’m holding a drink, Brendan.”
He looks into the cup. “People can run out of their drink, you know,” he says. I think he’s actually trying to smirk at me. He’s got some nerve.
“I do know that, yes.” I lift the cup to his face. “Not out. Thanks, though.”
He holds up his hands, one of which is holding his own drink. His entire body leans to the side and for a minute I think he might spill it.
I roll my eyes.
“What’s this?” he says, inching closer. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Is Avery mad at me?”
I inch my shoulder away. “Did you just talk to me like I’m not here? And like I’m not Avery?” I know I’m being rude right now, but Iamstill upset about what he did, how he left me like that in the hallway. If he’d just apologize we could get through this conversation a lot smoother.
I collapse deeper into my seat. This bench is digging into my back.
Brendan is close to me. My apparent relaxation seems to have invited him to move over, even closer. I shift my weight away again and cross my legs in the opposite direction.
“What’s the matter, Avie?” he says.
“Don’t call me that,” I shoot back. Only certain people can call me that, certain friends, and he’s not one of them. Not after what he did. A friend wouldn’t have done that.
He puts on a fake grumpy voice. “Well, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s wrong. What if I need some help with my homework again?”
Yeah, that just about sums it up right there. He’s probably kidding – at least, I hope he is – but he doesn’t realize the complete truth that that statement rings to me.
“Brendan,” I say, turning to him. “I’d really like to be left alone right now. If you don’t mind.” I look boldly right into those beady little eyes.
He looks around. “What the hell? Why? I don’t see anything else going on.”
“Hi, Avery.”
Ethan is standing in front of us, his presence as tall and formidable as ever. I breathe a sigh of relief. Will this kid ever stop saving me? I smile. I stand, smooth my dress, and then tuck my body close to his. Ethan slings his arm across my shoulder. His now-familiar scent of sandalwood washes over me with the movement.
Brendan frowns. “Whatever,” he says. He gets up and disappears behind a group of partygoers.
As long as I can avoid him the rest of tonight, I hope to never have to see him again.
