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From that point on, I’d visit her whenever she called, inviting me to…well… We never watched anything together on her new television, that was for sure.
The affair didn’t even last a month, though. About the time I started to wonder if we were in the kind of relationship where I should get her something for Valentine’s Day, she contacted me three days before the fourteenth, and told me she’d met someone, someone she actually wanted to go out with and date.
I was…fine with that. I guess. I mean, I liked her, a lot, but it wasn’t as if we’d had a deep, meaningful deal going on. I’d miss the sex—most definitely miss the sex—but we’d never even bothered to try connecting on any other level, so I couldn’t really miss her.
But being with her had helped me in a lot of ways. I learned I could relax around a woman I was attracted to. I could talk to one and, hallelujah, even please one in bed. Jocelyn had taught me much, and I’d always be grateful for that.
In return, I think I’d been a healthy rebound for her, something she’d needed straight out of her divorce to help her process her new normal and get all the bad out of her system. So I think she was grateful for me too because she thanked me for what I’d done for her, and then she called me sweet.
Sweet.
There was that word again.
I was beginning to think sweet honestly wasn’t a good thing at all. It took an asshole to really get the girl and keep her.
But as soon as my mind wandered toward Reuben and Avery, I shut that shit down. They were still together as far as I knew, but he no longer shoved it in my face as he used to. There were more important things in his world to focus on, anyway.
Like the Sudler Trophy, which a group could win, earning them the title of top marching band in the country. We had worked our asses off and ended up claiming the trophy. Reuben, of course, acted as if it was all because of his talent and leadership.
As if.
I tried to celebrate with Rush, but he had plans with some girl he was seeing, someone he wouldn’t tell me much about. So I went out alone to a pub where they made some of the best pizza I’d ever tasted.
I sat alone at the bar, not far from the cash register, waiting for my taco pizza, a special food I splurged on only during rare occasions, like winning the top recognition in the country for marching bands.
Before it arrived, though, Rush texted me, asking where I was.
After I told him, he showed up a few minutes later, plopping down on the stool next to me and mumbling something negative about women in general.
“You and mystery girl didn’t work out, huh?” I asked, sipping from my beer.
He grumbled around some more before admitting that she never wanted to be seen in public with him and wanted to keep their affair quiet, so I guess he got fed up with being her dirty little secret.
My curiosity got the best of me, so I kept asking questions until he explained that she came from a different country with strict religious beliefs, and her family would disown her if they knew about him.
“Damn.” Patting his back dolefully, I sighed, tempted to tell him about Jocelyn. I’d never said a word to him about her before, but maybe hearing about my experience of getting dumped—or whatever I’d been—would help him deal with his own lethargy.
Except the bell above the front door rang before I could say anything, and it resounded through me in such a way that my whole body felt the reverberation.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I knew what I was going to see even before I glanced over my shoulder.
Avery.
God, she was pretty.
It never mattered what she wore, she always took my breath away. I’d seen her in baggy sweats and an old shirt on campus with her hair pulled up in a sloppy ponytail as if she’d stayed up late studying only to roll out of bed that morning and come straight to class. I’d seen her dressed up in big, fancy dresses with makeup caked on thick and jewelry sparkling from her skin when she’d accompanied Reuben to award banquets for band members. But my favorite look was the one she sported now: hair up high in a perky ponytail, a dash of gloss on her lips, small silver hoops in her ears and snug, fashionable jeans with a loose top and tall boots to complete the picture.
She never wore the shirt anymore, the one that had first brought her to my attention. I realized she’d stopped not long after meeting Reuben. A part of me missed that shirt more than anything. It told me my big crush on her had just been an illusion. She wasn’t who I’d dreamed her up to be. She was just a girl. A stranger.
But still someone who could capture my complete attention and make me wish for beautiful possibilities. Which was why I hated seeing her anymore. I always went to war against myself when I did; half of me holding tight to the dreams while my practical side just wanted me to forget and move on.
Body going into frozen distress as she crossed to the cash register—alone, no friends or even Reuben in sight—and waited for someone to take her order, I turned away and stared straight ahead where bottles of alcohol lined the wall behind the bar. Next to me, Rush sat with his forehead on the countertop, still mourning his lost love, while mine stood directly on the other side of him, just standing there.
I felt like an idiot. It didn’t seem to matter that I was no longer a clueless virgin; I still didn’t know how to act around her.
So I inconspicuously slid my elbow over and nudged Rush to get his attention. He looked up, wincing against the dim light of the pub. “What?”
I discreetly tipped my head to his right. He glanced over, then turned back to me, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t care.
