Page 59 of Heartache Duet

Hi

Because I don’t know what else to say without sounding as desperate as I feel.

I delete the text and pocket my phone, then just stare out into the street as if it’s my only care in the world. The guy opposite us is mowing his lawn; a few houses over, someone is painting their porch. A woman is out walking a dog past a guy washing his car. And then some kids show up on their bikes, backpacks on. It’s the same punk kids from before who TP’d Ava’s house. I sit higher, watch closer. They ride in circles at the end of the road, their voices low. One of them gets off his bike, the biggest of them all, and removes his backpack. Crouched down and staring at Ava’s place, he pulls out a water bomb.

I’m on my feet, walking down my steps before he even raises his arm. “You should probably think twice before throwing that!”

All four boys glare at me. The one with the water bomb yells, “Fuck you!”

Fuck me?

No.

I yell, “You suck your paci with that mouth, you little bitch!” Not my greatest moment, but it’s all I could come up with. I’m barefoot, but it doesn’t stop me from attempting to chase after them. The minute they see me at full height, they’re on their bikes, water bombs discarded. Their laughing grates on my nerves, and they don’t leave immediately. Instead, they circle the road, waiting for me to make my next move.

I pick up a stick.

The smallest of the rat-pack yells, mocking, “You should probably think twice before throwing that!”

Then from behind me, water flies over my shoulder, just missing me. I turn to see Peter with a power hose, his eyes narrowed. “Get the hell outta here, you shitheads.”

The kids start to bail, and Peter follows them with the hose, attacking their backs. They get too far for the water to reach, so they stop, turn to us. One of them shouts, “Oh, look! Your boyfriend came to save you.”

“Fuck these kids,” Peter mumbles, standing next to me. “How fast can you run with no shoes?”

“Fast,” I respond.

“Ready?”

We jet, my feet hitting the pavement hard. The kids take off, one of them shouting, “You need to get your wisdom teeth removed!”

And another adds, “Yeah. So you can fit more dicks in your mouth!”

Peter busts out a laugh, slowing to a stop. I do the same.

“Jesus Christ,” he says, watching them turn the corner. “Insults sure have amped up since I was a kid.” He offers me his fist for a bump when we turn back toward my house. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

For a second, I’d forgotten that he was my enemy. I bump his fist anyway. “Connor.”

“I know who you are,” he says in a non-threatening tone.

My chest swells at the idea that Ava mentioned me.

“Trevor told me about you. Or warned me actually.”

“Warned you?” I ask incredulously.

He shakes his head. “Not like that, just that you and Ava have a thing going on.”

A Thing. That’s what we’re calling it? Cool.

“He said to make sure you weren’t creeping into her bedroom at night.”

I wish. “Nah,” I say. “It’s not like that.” We stop in front of Ava’s house, and I help him wind up the hose. I ask, as nonchalant as I can, “How is she anyway? I haven’t heard from her for a couple days.”

Peter shrugs. “She’s been busy with her mom and all. I think she has a harder time when Trevor’s gone, and I’m no back-up Trevor. I’m just here for the muscle.”

Nodding, I pretend to understand what he’s saying, but the truth is, besides the basics of what Ava’s told me, I have no idea what she goes through on the daily.

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