Page 23 of Honest With You

A clean break is what we need.

I chuck my phone and my xbox controller onto my gaming chair. Margaret’s texts and the lack of texts from a certain raven haired beauty are lending to my already built-up frustrations.

I walk over to my guitar that’s resting on the side of my bed. I haven’t been able to write a song in months. It’s as if all the shit with Margaret caused an internal block in me.

Then Ava walked back into my life. Since then I’ve had this melody playing in my head in a loop but the words are still out of reach.

Probably due to the fact that the object of my inspiration is out of reach.

These past few weeks, I did my best to just let Ava be, but watching her with Ryder Kim has been doing nothing but pissing me off.

I can’t even hang out with her without one of Margaret’s so-called friends floating around, making rude comments about her.

I don’t know why they think who I hang out with is any of their business when everyone knows we broke up.

I grab my Fender, my fingers tapping the rhythm on the headstock of my guitar. Sitting on my bed, I force myself to focus on the melody and block out all errant thoughts.

I think about being thirteen.

About the first girl to ever capture my attention.

Ava’s eyes were the first thing I noticed about her. So bright and full of emotion even when she did her best to hide how sad she was, her eyes betrayed her.

Then it was her heart that captivated me because even at the saddest moment of her life, she noticed my pain. She asked if I was okay, noting the clear difference between my relationship with my parents and before I knew it, I was telling her everything. About dad’s infidelity and about how we never really had a relationship to begin with because he couldn’t be bothered.

For the first time in my life, I felt seen and heard by someone other than my mom and Tyler.

I strum out a few minor chords to start out. They sound just like how I feel. There’s a subtle sadness in them, a touch of yearning.

I was thirteen, but I understood the weight of what she carried around with her.

I remember every time I managed to pull a smile and laugh from her. I collected them like tokens I won for accomplishing something no one else in that house had managed to do in the time I was there. I recalled every night we spent talking about nothing and everything and how it meant something to the lonely nerdy kid I was before puberty hit. Back then, I didn’t have anyone to talk to other than my mom and Tyler. Our friendship, though short-lived, meant everything to me. Until it didn’t. Until I let it slip away.

I regret that.

I really want to remedy that.

Before long, the chord progression becomes more upbeat. Hopeful.

After I’ve run through the melody five times, I start forming the words in my head.

I’m typing out a text to Reese when a hand comes around my elbow and I’m pulled into an empty classroom.

I whirl around, my hands on my hips. “What the hell?”

Jesse is leaning on the door, mischief dancing in his blue eyes. He smiles sheepishly at me as his hand brushes the top of his hair.

“My bad. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jesse? What––what’s going on?”

He shrugs as he uses his foot to kick off the door. He approaches me with light steps and I can’t help but step back.

The back of my legs hit the teacher’s desk and I wind up sitting on it.

Jesse’s grin widens, his eyes flicking to my lap.

His arms come around me until he’s caging me in, his hands on either side of my legs. His knees bend until we’re eye level and he closes in, our faces mere inches away.

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