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“Yeah.”
“She and Ava were best friends back then. Karen threw her this rager of a bonfire party for her fifteenth birthday, and I finally found the courage to shoot my shot.”
“So, you dated?” If this is all he wants to tell me, he should just say it. I don’t need the details.
Rhys shakes his head. “That night we uh… you know…”
Well, now I know, but I wish to fuck I didn’t.
“It was the same night they got the call.”
“What call?”
“About her mom.”
“Oh.” Shit.
Rhys exhales loudly. “We tried to make it work. Or at least I did. I gave her as much as I could, but she… she had so much going on, Connor, and then when her stepdad left them and—”
“I uh…” I cut in. “I kind of would prefer to hear her story from her if that’s cool.”
He nods, understanding. “I just want you to know that whatever goes on between you guys, I’m not your enemy or your threat or whatever. When it comes to Ava, I’m here for the same reason you are. I care about her. Truly.”
I’m having an out-of-body experience; I’m sure of it. Because I can’t seem to process a single thought. It’s as if I’m watching Ava’s entire life play out and there’s no pause button, no rewind. I don’t know what to say or how to react, so I mumble, “I appreciate it.”
I need to go. I need to get out of here. And I need to go to her. “I’m going to take off,” I say.
We bump fists, and I start to walk away but stop when he calls my name.
When I turn to him, his hand’s out, palm up. “Can I have the picture back?”
I reluctantly hand it back to him and then make for the door. When I go to close it, he’s staring at the picture, his mind no doubt filled with memories.
I stand there, watching him, wondering how much time will pass before I start doing the same.
* * *
The second I’m in my driveway and out of my car, I send Ava a text.
Connor: Everything okay? I haven’t heard from you all day. Just checking in.
I’m halfway up my porch steps when I hear the notification, but it’s not coming from my phone. I send another one.
Connor: Ava?
I hear it again and hit reverse on my feet. Down the steps and down the driveway, my focus on Ava’s house. It’s pitch-black, no lights.
I hit dial on her number and hold the phone to my ear. It rings twice on my end before hers goes off, and I follow the sound, see the screen light up.
Ava’s sitting on her porch steps, her phone on her lap. She doesn’t make a move to answer it, and it’s too damn dark to see her clearly.
Slowly, carefully, I make my way up her driveway until I’m standing in front of her.
She’s staring straight ahead, her eyes wide.
“Ava,” I whisper.
She doesn’t respond.
