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This makes me remember I need to text my brother and I punch the steering wheel in frustration, startling Ava.
“What’s wrong?”
“I was supposed to call Ryan.”
“Have you talked to him at all today?”
“Nope. I bet he’s pissed at me about it too.”
“It’s the least he could’ve done, show up and help out with your mom. He leaves everything on you,” Ava says bitterly, always running to my defense.
“He doesn’t live here anymore, how can I expect him to help out when he’s not around?” I ask her.
“What’s he doing anyway? I follow him on Instagram. He travels a lot and doesn’t seem to really work a steady job,” she says.
I shrug, unable to answer. Ryan’s turned into a bit of a nomad. When I was younger, I envied his freedom. He didn’t have roots anywhere, and that appealed to me.
Now I realize, he’s lost. He doesn’t know how to settle down. And that must suck, not being able to figure out what you want or who you are.
“I’m just glad he showed up,” I say wearily. “Him being here will be a big help.”
“I guess so.” She crosses her arms in front of her, looking pouty.
Cute.
Sexy as hell.
“Aw, don’t be mad, Princess. Don’t let him get to you.” I learned a long time ago if I let every little thing Ryan did bother me, I’d be pissed for all eternity. And who does that really suck for? Me, while Ryan’s off doing whatever it is Ryan’s doing.
Better to let that shit go.
That I’m even able to let shit go is monumental. I’m not known for that.
“How did my mom seem?” I ask, changing the subject.
Ava visibly relaxes in her seat. “Good. Sore. Really glad to see your brother.”
“She’s always liked him best, even though they fight all the time and he reminds her of Dad,” I say.
Ava gapes at me. “Are you serious?”
“She definitely prefers Ryan over me.” I shrug. “Don’t your parents play favorites?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Absolutely not. They love us all in different ways, but I never feel like my mom loves one more than another, and same with my dad.”
“Aren’t you lucky with your perfect family.” I can’t help my snarky comment.
A sigh leaves her. “Are you trying to start a fight? I’m not in the mood, Eli. I’m tired, and so are you. I know you’re frustrated about the game, and that’s why I was trying to leave it alone. But it’s like you’re picking on me, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m not picking on you,” I tell her, feeling like a dick. “I just—I’m under enormous amounts of pressure right now. The team, the games, my mom, my brother, all of it is getting to me, and I don’t think I’m handling it very well.”
She’s quiet, so I remain silent too. I’ve said my piece. There’s more I should admit, but is this the right time to lay it all out?
I guess it’s either now or I stretch it out longer and make it harder for me to leave her alone.
Keeping my distance from her will only be for a short period of time. No big deal in the long run. Though damn, I did just get her back in my life…
“I know you’re under a lot of pressure,” she finally says, her voice small. “I just want to help you, Eli. In any way I can. I’m not in school right now, so if you need me to help your mom out, I can totally do it.”
