Marcus’s pining over Morgan when she constantly gives him the cold shoulder has been a running joke between us for years. I always thought he liked the chase the best, but when Morgan had her first serious relationship in college, he barely ate for weeks. When they eventually broke up, Marcus insisted he was fine just being friends with her, even though he stayed in her orbit, constantly circling her as if he was the moon. The way he looks at her is the same way I look at Avery.
“How about you, Mr. Chuckles over there?” Marcusturns his attention toward me. “How’s your relationship going, huh? Any sage advice to give us?” Marcus sits back down on the bar stool in front of me where I’m cleaning glasses.
“Great, actually. Yeah, I only cry maybe once a day now. Thanks for asking,” I reply, dry sarcasm rolling off me.
Grayson jumps in, shooting a sharp look at Marcus, who looks properly chastised for once in his life. “No, seriously. How’s it going with Avery, Kane?”
“I don’t know. Each time I think we might finally talk, she pulls away again. Last night when she was wasted, I took her home, and it was nice. It was like we were us again, but I ran away before she could wake up. I couldn’t handle it if she woke up and decided to kick me out or told me last night changed nothing, you know?” I sigh, wringing the dish towel in my hands.
The rings on my fingers shine under the neon lights of the bar, my newest one staring up at me—a bigAengraved into a leaf design I had made months ago. It just came last week. My heart pinched when I opened the package and realized what it was. I wanted to rush over and show her what I’d made.
When the memory of the breakup hit me, I had to close the box.
There were two rings in that order, but I’ve only been able to open this one, which hasn’t come off my finger since. My ring finger on my left hand is the only one still bare.
I shake myself out of these thoughts and stare back at my friends, who wait for me to continue.
I still find it hard to be vulnerable with them. My parents have never been the sharing sort. The surface-level conversations go back as far as I can remember, everyemotion being shoved down in favor of making it seem like they had the perfect kid, with the perfect family. The backhanded compliments slowly ate away at my self-worth like a fungus infecting my whole body, until I realized being silent was preferred. A different sort of silence to the one Avery grew up with, but the loneliness mirrors between us.
“My dad’s throwing my mom this birthday party. I haven’t told them what’s happening and I’m dreading it. He’s been on my ass more than usual since I got access to the trust fund my granddad left me. I think he knows he’s losing his power over me and he’s scrambling. If I show up without Avery, he’ll pounce, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get out of his web again,” I rush out in one breath. The truth pours out of me, and sharing it lightens a little of the weight I’ve been carrying.
“My dad is…a tyrant, to say the least. He was always this huge, imposing man when I was younger, and even when I got physically larger than him, he somehow still made me feel small. Saying no to him isn’t easy. It never has been, and I worry that I won’t be able to this time. Usually I have Avery, and while they tolerate her presence at best, they leave me alone with her around.” I brush my hair back from my eyes, then drop my arms, trying to shake out the tension trapped all over my body nowadays.
My friends both look at me solemnly, matching faces of understanding. I don’t know if I have opened up to them like this before. Sure, I’ve told them pieces—they know the gist of my dysfunctional relationship with my parents. But they don’t know the way I feel bled dry after a single encounter with them. The way I shut myself away until I am ready to face them again, all my problems shoved so far back in the recesses of my mind until I feel human again.The way the broken side of me hides under a mask of indifference.
Marcus moves to speak, but before he gets a word out, I see the door open out of the corner of my eye. My head whips up in recognition as Morgan and Avery walk across the threshold.
I draw in a breath and almost choke on it. Avery’s hair is loose around her shoulders, the light from the door behind her making her look like an angel walking toward me. Her ripped jeans and checkered print shoes, paired with the classic over-sized band tee falling off one shoulder, bring a smile to my face.
This is the look I remember on her most.
“Hey, Ave, Morgan!” Grayson calls out as Marcus stands up to greet them. He gives Avery a hug, which sends a pang through my heart at how much I miss the familiar touch of her. They whisper something to each other, and Avery looks pissed, but Marcus has a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. She slaps him in the stomach, making him fold over.
Grayson slides over and pulls another bar stool up until they’re all gathered around in front of me.
It’s been so long since the five of us have been like this. Fifty-eight days to be exact. I try not to stare at her too hard. She is clearly still suffering from her hangover, those effervescent blue eyes that always shine as brightly as the sun dimmed and slightly puffy. She sits on the stool, back straight and arms on the counter as she grabs Marcus’s Coke and takes a heavy sip.
I set the one I started when I saw her walking in—with extra lemon—down in front of her. She rewards me with a small smile when she glances at it, her eyes turning slightlywatery. She mouths a quickthanksand my heart skips a beat, unable to calm down when she’s around. The irregular rhythm would be concerning if I wasn’t staring at the whole reason it beats at all. An angel sent just for me, the penance for a shitty childhood, the gift I was given for still being here.
The urge to fix what’s wrong between us is strong, so I make myself grab a new glass and dry it off before setting it with the back stock. Then I grab another and start making Morgan her drink to keep myself from launching over this countertop and demanding to know what happened and how to fix it.
“What have you guys been talking about?” Morgan asks as I slide over her drink. She beams at me and takes a drink, giving me a thumbs-up.
“Oh, Kane was just telling us—” Marcus starts. I whip a towel at his hands on the counter—a sign for him to keep his big mouth shut. He looks over at me with a quietowand a shake of his head. My glare is cutting enough that he mimes zipping his lips, mirth shining back at me.
“Kane was just telling us about dinner at his parents’ house,” Grayson finishes for him. I turn my glare on him, but he purposely looks away from me toward Avery, too cowardly to face me as he reveals my greatest secret at the moment—aside from being desperately and hopelessly in love with the goddess sitting across from me.
The faint whiff of her lemon perfume crosses the space between us and has a groan coming up to the seam of my lips, threatening to spill over. The scent triggers memories I have no business thinking about while clocked in at work.
“Your mom’s birthday?” Avery asks me, causing my brain to short-circuit because she’s talking directly to me, something I’ve missed so much over this past month and ahalf. Her eyes twinkle in the light—my North Star trying to guide me home. Her pouty lips glisten under the neon lights, a small frown in the corner of her mouth that I want to kiss away.
“Yeah, and Big K here hasn’t told them you guys broke up,” Marcus jumps in for me, my cheeks heating.
I groan. “Please do not try to make Big K a thing again.”
“Agreed. That was terrible the first time, Marcus,” Morgan says with a swing of her long blonde ponytail.
“Hey, Ave, why don’t you go with him?” Grayson, myformerbest friend, says. I turn my head toward him so fast I’m not sure how I don’t get whiplash. He better start running the second I can get out from behind this bar.
