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“You heard me, you crazy bitch.”
It seems so slow—at least in my head—the way her head tilts back… right before she slams it in his face. Blood pools from the guy’s nose, and Mom doesn’t release him. She does it again. And again. And I can hear the screams of the people around me, see the ones herding their children back into their homes. Trevor releases me, but it’s too damn late.
“I want her arrested!” the fucker orders, and fat cop moves around me, his grip harsh on Mom’s shoulders. She turns to him. “Don’t you dare touch me!” She swings at his head, and it’s the moment everything speeds up again. His baton comes out, strikes the back of her leg, and she falls to the ground with a wail of a cry. She’s yelling, words incoherent, and my heart falters in my chest. She’s kicking, and she’s screaming, and I know that she’s begging, but no one else would, because no one else knows her like I do. A flash of white flickers near her stomach—a taser—and I come to. Scream at the top of my lungs. “Don’t hurt her!” I can’t see through my tears, can’t hear through my cries as she gets picked up, dragged to the car. Leo Preston is beside me now, cursing under his breath. I rush to the car, trying to pry the officer’s hands off my mother. “Leave her. She didn’t do anything!”
“She attacked me!” the fucker of a neighbor yells, holding a hand to his nose.
“Fuck you!” I scream.
Trevor’s behind me, pulling me away, as the cop gets Mom in the car and closes the door. She sits perfectly still, her chin in the air. But when she turns to me, my blood runs cold. There’s no emotion in her expression. No life in her eyes. Another set of lights appears, this one from an ambulance. They stop in front of the cop car, on the wrong side of the road. Connor’s dad hops out first, his eyes finding mine. “Ava? What happened?”
I look back at my mother while Trevor releases me slowly. Hand raised, I hold my palm to the window, my vision blurred by the tears, and I croak, breathless, “Mama…”
CONNOR
Connor: Hmm. I feel like your lack of contact means maybe you hate the present… I hope you realize it’s not just an old mayonnaise container.
I stare at the last text between Ava and me. I’d sent it over an hour ago, giving her at least two hours of darkness to open the thing. She hasn’t responded yet, and so I send another one.
Connor: Did you switch it on? Damn, I hope the battery didn’t die. It’s brand new…
After another solid hour of no response, I call her, but it goes to voicemail, and so I order room service just to take my mind off it. But it doesn’t seem to help. Anxious energy flows through my veins, beating hard against my flesh. My brain starts running circles, every possible scenario racing through my thoughts. I know things haven’t been the best with us lately, but she seemed better today. At least… I thought so.
It’s midnight when I try calling her again, but there’s no answer. I lie in bed with the TV on, not really paying attention. Somehow, I must fall asleep, because when I wake next, it’s close to 3 a.m. The only alerts on my phone are from my dad. I shoot off a quick text, let him know I’m okay and that I crashed early, and then I call Ava.
It goes straight to voicemail.
This time, I leave a message, my doubt making my voice crack: “Hey, babe. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but I’ve been messaging and calling and… and I hope everything’s okay. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to be there for your birthday, and I hope that’s not the reason you’re… ignoring me, I guess. I know that things have been a little… rocky with us lately. A lot’s going on in both our lives right now, and maybe that’s why we’re not connecting as well as we should be…” I swallow the knot in my throat. “And I know it might be hard to believe right now given what I’ve asked of you, but… I just need you to know that I love you.” I pause a beat. “God, I love you so much. With everything inside me… forever.” Then I heave out a breath, contain my emotions. “Ava, please don’t give up on us.”
THIRTY-FOUR
connor
My mom wants to have breakfast. I tell her I can’t, that I’m busy—it’s only a half lie. Truth is, I don’t feel like I have anything left to say to her. And, honestly, after the night I’ve had, I don’t think I could stomach anything.
I couldn’t get back to sleep. Not even a little bit. I tried calling Ava all night, but nothing changed. Either her phone’s off or she’s blocked my number completely… and I don’t know which one scares me more.
I know I should go home, but leaving early would cause too many questions. I’ve created a web of fucking lies, and I’m the one trapped. I stay in my hotel room until it’s the time I told Dad and Ava I’d be landing, and I call Ava first—still nothing—and then Dad. “Are you on your way?” is the first thing he says, his voice hoarse, weak.
My dread is instant. “Yeah. What’s going on?”
“You haven’t spoken to Ava?”
My pulse spikes. “No, I can’t get a hold of her. Why? What happened?”
He sighs, long and loud. “Come home, son. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
The roads seem to go on forever. Every light is red. Every car in front of me is going ten miles under the limit. I once told Ava I’d travel through time to get to her, but time seems non-existent, and the nearer I get, I feel like the distance between us only grows.
I was a phone call away. A text. I check myself there, because it’s not about me, and whatever it is, Dad knows. He’s involved. And that can only mean one thing…
I finally make it home, and my truck has barely come to a stop when I step out, hesitant about where to go first. Looking toward Ava’s, I notice Trevor’s truck’s in the driveway, but besides that, there’s nothing to indicate anything’s wrong. Dad makes the choice for me by opening our front door, his hand gripping the back of his neck. “Let me to talk to you first, Connor.”
I sit on the couch, stand up, pace, sit back down, and with every word that falls from Dad’s lips, my heart sinks farther into my stomach, anchored there by the painful twists and turns.
“I should’ve been there,” I whisper. I could’ve stopped it. But I wasn’t. Because for one night, my selfish needs outweighed my love for her. It was her fucking birthday; it should’ve been magical.
Dad stands beside me as I knock on Ava’s door. Trevor opens it, his phone held to his ear. Eyes tired, he looks up at me, mumbles, “She’s in her room.”
