Page 11 of Fighting the Tide
“Yes.”Avery drops her head and wraps her arms around her knees, bringing her legs in close to her chest.“She knows, and sometimes when she’s been drinking a little too much, she likes to piss off Kasen and flirt with me.”
“Avery, you need to put a stop to that.”I get up from the log and move to hers, sitting down beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.She falls against my side, her arms coming around my waist as she buries her face into my chest.
“I’ve tried.”Her voice trembles with emotion, her breath hitching as she tries to hold in her anguish.“But I’m weak, and any attention from her is like a small slice of heaven.I forget what it’s like when she’s through with me, how much it hurts, Nolan.”Finally, the sob erupts from her chest, the sound tortured.“But I can’t tell her no.”
I pull her in tighter, rocking her back and forth as my chin rests against the top of her head.“You should have told me, Avery.I could have helped you.”
“You have enough on your plate,” she weeps into my sweater, her fingers gripping onto the material as her shoulders shake with the force of her cries.“You’re always helping other people and never yourself.I didn’t want to burden you with my stupid problems.”
I pull back and grab her by the chin, forcing her to look up at me, and when I see the agonized look on my best friend’s face, the world around me crumbles.“It’s been three years, Avery, of hiding this from me, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.Even if it means keeping you away from the likes of Monica Benton.”
“But that’s where I’m fucked up, Nolan.I don’t want to be kept away from her.I love her.”Her chin shakes as she bites her bottom lip and tears begin to run down her cheeks in thick rivulets.
“Has she given you any indication that she’s gay or bisexual?Because, Avery, this isn’t the first time you’ve had your heart broken by a straight girl.”I pull her back into me, her arms falling back around my waist as she laughs into my sweater, the sound like breaking glass, high-pitched and manic.
“It was always her,” she confesses.“Every heartbreak from every straight girl.It was always Monica Benton, I’ve just been giving you fake names over the years.”It’s as if the rug has been pulled out from under me, and even though my best friend is falling apart in my arms, my insides burn with betrayal.I understand where she was fearful about revealing this part of herself, about the love she felt for someone who would never reciprocate it.I understand, but it’s me.I’m her best friend.She must sense the tension radiating off of me because she slowly lifts her head to look up into my face, and for some reason, I can’t make myself meet her eyes as I stare over her shoulder.
“Nolan, don’t,” she begs, her hands tugging on my sweatshirt as she gives me a shake.“It’s not that I didn’t trust you with my secret, it’s that I didn’t trust myself if I told you.If I told anybody then that would make it real.I just wanted it to live inside my head, and after each breakdown, I’d pack it all away and force myself to believe it was all a dream.”She pulls back farther and grabs my chin this time, forcing me to face her.“Nolan, look at me,” she demands, her fingers digging into the flesh of my face.“I would have gone on the rest of my life without telling a soul what Monica meant to me, but you were getting so close to figuring it out and I knew you wouldn’t let up until you had all the answers.Maybe I also knew once you found out then Monica and I would just be over because you would talk some sense into me.”
I’ve never felt what Avery’s feeling before.There’s never been a person who I’ve been so desperate to love and for them to love me back that I would suffer through agony just to experience it.So even though I’m feeling deceived, I can also admit that I don’t fully comprehend the situation.I wish I could look at Avery and tell her it hurts, and that the years we’ve spent building our friendship from the foundation up, now feels like it’s going to crumble beneath us, but I can’t.Instead, I give her a smile and a nod and hope that will suffice for now because I don’t think I could form the words to ease her guilt.
Relief washes over her face as she crowds back in, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her face back into my chest.I wonder if she can hear the dull beats of my heart and how heavy it sounds as I stare out to the ocean.It feels like everything’s changing.We’re no longer kids and adulthood is looming on the edge of the horizon, just waiting for the day to fall in on us and swipe our childhoods away.
Gone are the days of blissful ignorance, of running along the beach, throwing sand at each other, and screaming out to the ocean, only to hear our echoes being thrown back at us.Those carefree days are gone and responsibilities are beginning to take their place.I have to think about my scholarship, about my parents, about somehow making enough money to help us eat.Each week I long for just one more day of feeling free, of letting go of every worry and just living for the moment.I wish I could start all over and learn to appreciate being a kid instead of impatiently waiting to grow up.
“What are you thinking about?”Avery asks as she pulls away, reaching into her pocket for that pack of cigarettes.I contemplate not telling her anything, that vengeful part of me that just wants to shut her out for what she’s been doing for the past two years to me, but I don’t.It would only serve to create more of a rift.
“I miss being a kid,” I admit while giving her a sad smile.“I miss the days when being poor didn’t mean anything, that school was only a place that took time away from the beach, and most of all, I miss all those times my parents hid their troubles from me.”It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and with each confession, I can feel myself relaxing.
“God, I would love that,” she mutters around the cigarette in her mouth as she brings the lighter up to the tip.I watch the paper quickly burning beneath its heat as she inhales and then blows out a thin stream of smoke before saying, “I’d love to go back to before puberty, to when liking someone was gross, to when Darren liked to sell lemonade on the corner and not meth.Although thinking about that now really clears up a few questions I had about where he went wrong in life.”We both burst out laughing as she shakes her head and takes another drag of her cigarette.“But most of all, I miss building sandcastles on this beach with you until the sun goes down.”
Her eyes fill with nostalgic sadness as I slowly nod, remembering those times with her and missing them too.“You know what?”I stand up and look down at her with a smile.“Get up.Let’s go build a castle.”
“Stop it, Nolan.”She rolls her eyes and flicks her cigarette butt to the side.“There’s no way we’re building a sandcastle.”
“You either come build a sandcastle with me or I do it alone, but there will be a castle built tonight, and when the tide goes out, it’ll stay whole until the morning.Come on, Avery.”I kick sand at her.“Let’s do it.”
She rolls her eyes again as I turn away from her and head toward the water, rolling up my sleeves as I find the perfect spot.I’ll let the next few hours pass me by and sink back into that blissful ignorance, forgetting what’s going on at home.
I sit in the sand and link my fingers together, cupping my hands and using them like a scoop to dig out the foundation of the castle.A few moments later, a stick sinks into the sand beside me and I chuckle as Avery begins to dig out a trench.“This is so stupid,” she groans but keeps on digging.
I shove the stick out of her hand and laugh when it tips over, making her spew curses at me.“You were always the lazy one.I remember having to do this part by myself every time.”
“Yeah?I remember having to run up and down the fucking beach looking for shells to decorate it with,” she snaps back with mock anger and continues digging with the ghost of a smile on her face.
“We built some awesome fucking castles.”I chuckle as I throw a handful of sand at her, watching as it lands in her lap.
“Do you remember the year we won second place right here on the beach?It was during that stupid competition.”I look up at her and laugh because I do remember, although the memory has long been buried.
“We lost to a tourist.Some kid from New York.I forgot his name.”Once the rectangular foundation is dug out, I begin to pack on the walls of the castle, making sure the sand is compacted and tight.“Do you remember kicking down the castle that he made after we lost to him?”The image of a young Avery at ten years old raging out on a sand castle floats through my mind and I laugh into the darkening sky.
I can remember how her cheeks bloomed bright red and her eyes were wide and manic-looking as her little arms swept down the walls of that castle.“He cried like a little bitch,” she sneers.
“You would have too if someone ruined our castle after working on it for over four hours,” I tell her as she scoffs and shakes her head.
We work in silence after that, digging and packing sand, the sounds of our hands slapping against the walls of the castle.It’s better than any therapy people pay thousands of dollars for.If I was a therapist and someone came to me with their troubles, I would recommend finding a beach and building the biggest sandcastle they could ever imagine so that they could remember what it was like to be a kid, when worries were about making it home in time for dinner.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Nolan?”Avery asks after a couple of minutes.“About Monica?”
