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“What?”
I shove her behind me, my eyes narrowed, trying to focus. The back window lowers, and a gun barrel—“Fuck!” I turn, push Ava to the ground and cover her completely. My ears fill with Ava’s screams as shot after shot is fired, some hitting the house, some on my back. I hold on to her as she tries to scramble free, crying my name. Tires screech and then silence descends. Heart racing, breaths hot and heavy against the cool night air, I check that they’re gone before releasing her. Her eyes wide, mouth agape, she stares up at me, unblinking. I swallow, flick the fucking paint off my arm. “It was just a paintball gun,” I breathe out.
Ava’s shaking her head, her breaths jagged. “Connor.” My gaze locks on hers. Her eyes are wild. “There was no way you could’ve known that was just a paintball gun.”
My pulse beats wildly in my chest, but I try to stay calm. For her. I wipe at the paint on the bench, adrenaline tightening my airways. “It should clean up easily.”
“Leave it. It doesn’t matter.” Ava’s throat moves with her swallow as her eyes fill with tears. Anger mars her features when she says, “It’s the third time this week someone’s messed with the house. Sometimes I wish I could just set this whole fucking place on fire and leave and never look back.” She takes a calming breath. Two. Then she looks up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Nothing good has come of this place, Connor. There was you. And now there’s nothing.”
I grasp her face in my hands, my eyes soaking in her heartache. “I’m still here,” I breathe out.
She grabs on to my jacket, her eyes drifting shut. A heartbeat passes, strong and sure. I lower my mouth, at the same time her front door opens.
“What the hell happened?” Peter asks.
I don’t turn to him. I keep my eyes on Ava as she blinks. Blinks. Blinks.
“Fuck,” Peter spits. “Get inside, Ava.”
My silence begs her to stay.
But her reality forces her to leave.
AVA
“What the hell happened?” Peter whispers, dragging me to my room.
Still in shock, I stare up at him.
His eyes don’t stop moving as he takes me in, his hand on my arm squeezing. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
“No,” I whisper. “Connor…”
“Connor what?”
I try to breathe, try to calm the hell down. “Connor threw me on the ground and covered me… but he wouldn’t have known it wasn’t a real…”
“Jesus Christ, Ava,” he murmurs, slumping down on the edge of my bed. “Your boy’s an idiot.”
“What?” I huff out.
Peter laughs. “He’s willing to take bullets for a girl he’s not even dating.”
Peter’s words pierce a hole through my chest, and I struggle to stay standing. Struggle to breathe. I sit down next to him, my gaze lowered, hand on my stomach to ease the ache.
Peter throws his arm around my neck, bringing me to him. He adds, scoffing, “The kid’s NBA bound, and he just risked his life for what? For you?” Bile rises to my throat. “No offense, Ava, but Trevor’s already given up his life for you. You don’t want another person doing the same. If you’re not into him, you need to make it clear. Because he’s clearly too dumb to figure it out for himself.”
My vision blurs.
“And why the hell do you still live in this shithole of a town with people who constantly abuse you? I don’t understand why you can’t just let me take care of you.”
Guilt swarms through my veins, heating and boiling to anger.
I slip on my shoes and march over to Connor’s house. I don’t go to his window. I go to his door.
Knock twice.
He answers, dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. Welts have started to form where the paintballs had struck him, and I look up and into his eyes, my vision suddenly clear. “You’re an idiot!”
