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I look away. “So, where are we going for this big adventure?”
“You’ll see,” is all she says, and a few minutes later, we pull into a dusty parking lot beside…
“Eastern Guns and Ammo,” I read from the sign. I blink. “A shooting range?”
Avery is already getting out of the car. “Now seems like a good time to learn how to handle a weapon, don’t you think?”
It does. But I can’t help looking at Avery with distrust. She seems to sense this because she meets my gaze head-on.
“Listen, let’s clear the air, okay? I’m not fucking him.”
I gape at her. “What?”
“That’s the problem, right?” she smirks. “You’re suspicious of me and Nero. Don’t be. There’s nothing like that between us like that, never has been. He’s like a brother to me. A pig-headed, power-hungry, arrogant piece-of-shit brother,” she adds affectionately. “So let’s cut the catfight pick-me bullshit, and have some fun today, OK?”
“OK...” I echo slowly, as Avery strides to the door.
And dammit, now I really like her.
I hurry to catch up, and meet her at the counter, where a grizzled older guy outfits us with handguns and ammunition. Avery leads me to an aisle in the shooting range and shows me what to do.
“Safety. Clip. Bullets. Target.” She loads the gun slowly, pointing out the parts, and lays it on the counter in front of me. “Think you’ve got it from here, Princess?”
“I’ll try.”
I put on the headset, and glass visor, and slowly pick up the gun. It’s heavier than I expected and feels foreign in my hands as I raise it, pointing at the target.
“Feet apart,” Avery instructs me. “Keep your weight low.”
I aim.
BANG!
The handgun jerks in my hand when I pull the trigger, like a mini-explosion is going off. I stumble back, shocked.
Avery laughs. “Easy, there.”
“Sorry.” I blush. “Did I hit anything?”
“Just the backboard… Of the target next door.” Avery grins. “But don’t worry, we’ll make a marksman out of you in no time.”
“Can you show me?” I ask.
“Sure.” Avery steps up to the counter, loads and raises her gun in the blink of an eye, and aims.
BANG!
I can see the bullet hole torn through the middle of the target. A perfect shot.
“Wow,” I applaud, impressed. “How did you learn to do that?”
“Same way you will: Practice.” Avery steps aside. “Try it again, and this time, just squeeze the trigger gently. It won’t take much force.”
I do as she says, and this time, I manage to get the bullet on my own target. Way out to the side, but still!
“I did it!” I cheer. It’s exhilarating.
More than that, it’s empowering.
