Page 223 of Heartache Duet

Then I try calling Ava; there’s no answer. And so I get dressed for school and wait by my truck. If I can get a few minutes with her just so I can explain without revealing too much, maybe it’ll be enough. I push off my truck when her front door opens, but she’s not there. Only Trevor. He glares at me, his eyes narrowed, and the last thing I need is a lecture from him. “You waiting on Ava?” he calls out.

“Yeah.”

“She already left, bro. She said you had an early practice and she was catching the bus.”

She lied. For me. “We must’ve got our wires crossed.”

He opens his truck door. “Did you try calling her?”

“I’ll do it now.”

I get in my truck and dial her number again, and again there’s no answer. I get to school just before the first bell. We don’t have any classes together today, and I don’t see her during lunch or at any time in between. I search for her, though, my eyes always roaming. When the end-of-lunch bell rings, I don’t go to class. Instead, I go to Miss Turner’s office, knock.

“Come in,” she calls out.

I poke my head in, my gaze everywhere at once.

“Mr. Ledger, how can I help you?”

“Have you seen Ava today?”

She shakes her head. “No. Was I supposed to?”

I close her door without a response and head to the student parking lot, my pulse racing, stomach twisting. Everything is a blur once I get in my truck, searching for her everywhere I can think of. I can’t seem to keep a single thought in line, and when my phone alerts me to a message, I fumble for it, almost veering off the road.

Wendy: She’s willing to travel. When can you get away next?

I ignore the message, my hand forming a fist before it makes contact with the steering wheel. “Fuck!” I drive back home, and I know I should wait, but I can’t. Just like I know I shouldn’t knock, but I do. Krystal opens the door just enough to peer through the gap. When she sees me, she opens it wider. “Hey, Connor.”

“Is Ava here?

“No.” Her brow dips in concern. “She should be at school.”

I sigh. “We must’ve just missed each other. Sorry for bothering you.”

Miss D appears next to Krystal. “Did you try calling her?”

I don’t want to worry them, so I say, “No, my phone’s dead, so… I’ll see you later?”

Miss D nods. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“I had a basketball thing.” The lies flow, effortless, and I hate that they do.

She asks, “Do you want to wait for her here?”

“I can’t. I got some chores I need to get done.”

“Such a good boy,” Miss D tells Krystal.

She’s lying, too.

She just doesn’t know it.

I sit on my porch, constantly checking the time. Ava has to be home soon to let Krystal go for the day. She won’t just disappear. At least, I hope not. I plan out what I’ll tell her. I’ll apologize. Again. And I’ll beg her to trust me, that this isn’t like before, and that I just need time. I’ll plead with her to remember everything we have and everything we share and to look deep inside herself and question whether she truly believes I’m capable of doing anything, anything at all, to hurt her. And I pray to a God I don’t believe in that my love for her will be enough.

Just when I expect her, she appears, walking down the sidewalk. She has to pass my house to get to hers, and so I run down the driveway. “Ava!”

She jumps when she hears me but doesn’t look up. I stop in front of her, blocking her path. “Ava, please.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. And then she looks up, her eyes puffy, red, completely exposed to the heartache she carries. The sight alone has me taking a step back.

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