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Authors: Ginger Scott
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no matter
how harsh, which is precisely why I can’t believe Avery ever loved me.
“Alright, I get it. I teased her. And you say she loved me,
which…whatever, I’m not buying that. But why the hell is she so anti-Mason
now?” I ask. I want to get to the heart of Avery’s beef with me—if for
nothing else to make the next couple weeks a little more bearable.
“You are unbelievable!” Claire says, letting out a piercing
laugh just to punctuate how stupid she thinks I am. I just stare at her
blankly—I’ve got nothin’. “Mason, don’t you remember Nikki Thomas’ party
our sophomore year?”
Yeah, I remember that party. That’s the night I slept with
Nikki Thomas, pretty much the hottest piece of ass in our high school. And that
was the night I realized exactly all of the doors being a musician could open.
It was the night I decided that the second I had enough money I was leaving
Cave Creek and heading straight to LA. But something tells me those aren’t the
things Claire—and more importantly, Avery—remembers about that
night. So I just nod slowly and wait, hoping she’ll fill me in.
“Everyone was playing that drinking game, and you and Avery
got dared to be locked in the closet for 30 minutes. You remember that?” she
asks, and I have a vague imprint somewhere in the back of my mind. I’m pretty
sure I wasn’t sober that night—always one of my regrets about sleeping
with Nikki Thomas; I only remember bits and pieces about sex with her.
“Sort of,” I say, scratching at the back of my neck. This
isn’t going to be good—I can tell.
Claire just sighs and shakes her head. “Jesus, Mason. You
sat in that closet with her for 30 minutes. That was like…her dream come true.
And you just sat in there, with your feet crossed out in front of you, like you
were taking a nap. You didn’t even talk to her! You practically lived at her
house, and you just ignored her so you could endure some goddamned bet you
lost!”
Fuck!
“When they opened up the door, you walked out and told
everyone she kissed like a bird, too. You said she just pecked at you, and you
had to push her off of you. Then you said she begged you to go all the way,”
Claire is even ashamed saying this shit out loud. The worst part is I can’t
deny any of it. I don’t really remember it—actually, I kind of do, just
not clearly. But I can picture it—it’s exactly something I would do. And
I haven’t changed a goddamned bit.
The bar is starting to fill up, so Claire kicks back from
the bar and scoots in her stool, patting her hands on the counter a few times
before speaking. “I gotta get back to work. But whatever you’re trying to figure out while you’re here, Mason?
Make sure you don’t have to tear Avery down just to get there, okay?”
I nod at her, my breath pretty much knocked out of my lungs.
I thought Ray held up a pretty brutal mirror when he showed me those articles
the other day. But Claire just trumped that. Avery might have loved
me—once. But I pissed all over that, just like I do everything that’s
good in my life.
“Hey, Claire?” I catch her before she heads into the
kitchen.
“Yeah?” she asks, pausing halfway through the door.
“You think I can fix any of that? I mean—I know I’m way beyond saying sorry now. But, I
guess…you think maybe I can get her to not hate me?” The words sound pathetic as they leave my lips, but I’m all right
with that. Turns out, I am kinda
pathetic. And the fact that Avery said the things she said last night makes me
an even bigger asshole—because I don’t deserve them, but she’s a fucking
saint for saying them anyway.
“You can always fix it, Mason,” she says, her lips curled
into a half smile. “That girl—she’ll always see the best in you. Even
when she doesn’t want to.”
The door swings shut behind her, and despite sitting in the
middle of a crowded restaurant, I feel completely alone. I have to find Ray.
And I have to get him to let
how harsh, which is precisely why I can’t believe Avery ever loved me.
“Alright, I get it. I teased her. And you say she loved me,
which…whatever, I’m not buying that. But why the hell is she so anti-Mason
now?” I ask. I want to get to the heart of Avery’s beef with me—if for
nothing else to make the next couple weeks a little more bearable.
“You are unbelievable!” Claire says, letting out a piercing
laugh just to punctuate how stupid she thinks I am. I just stare at her
blankly—I’ve got nothin’. “Mason, don’t you remember Nikki Thomas’ party
our sophomore year?”
Yeah, I remember that party. That’s the night I slept with
Nikki Thomas, pretty much the hottest piece of ass in our high school. And that
was the night I realized exactly all of the doors being a musician could open.
It was the night I decided that the second I had enough money I was leaving
Cave Creek and heading straight to LA. But something tells me those aren’t the
things Claire—and more importantly, Avery—remembers about that
night. So I just nod slowly and wait, hoping she’ll fill me in.
“Everyone was playing that drinking game, and you and Avery
got dared to be locked in the closet for 30 minutes. You remember that?” she
asks, and I have a vague imprint somewhere in the back of my mind. I’m pretty
sure I wasn’t sober that night—always one of my regrets about sleeping
with Nikki Thomas; I only remember bits and pieces about sex with her.
“Sort of,” I say, scratching at the back of my neck. This
isn’t going to be good—I can tell.
Claire just sighs and shakes her head. “Jesus, Mason. You
sat in that closet with her for 30 minutes. That was like…her dream come true.
And you just sat in there, with your feet crossed out in front of you, like you
were taking a nap. You didn’t even talk to her! You practically lived at her
house, and you just ignored her so you could endure some goddamned bet you
lost!”
Fuck!
“When they opened up the door, you walked out and told
everyone she kissed like a bird, too. You said she just pecked at you, and you
had to push her off of you. Then you said she begged you to go all the way,”
Claire is even ashamed saying this shit out loud. The worst part is I can’t
deny any of it. I don’t really remember it—actually, I kind of do, just
not clearly. But I can picture it—it’s exactly something I would do. And
I haven’t changed a goddamned bit.
The bar is starting to fill up, so Claire kicks back from
the bar and scoots in her stool, patting her hands on the counter a few times
before speaking. “I gotta get back to work. But whatever you’re trying to figure out while you’re here, Mason?
Make sure you don’t have to tear Avery down just to get there, okay?”
I nod at her, my breath pretty much knocked out of my lungs.
I thought Ray held up a pretty brutal mirror when he showed me those articles
the other day. But Claire just trumped that. Avery might have loved
me—once. But I pissed all over that, just like I do everything that’s
good in my life.
“Hey, Claire?” I catch her before she heads into the
kitchen.
“Yeah?” she asks, pausing halfway through the door.
“You think I can fix any of that? I mean—I know I’m way beyond saying sorry now. But, I
guess…you think maybe I can get her to not hate me?” The words sound pathetic as they leave my lips, but I’m all right
with that. Turns out, I am kinda
pathetic. And the fact that Avery said the things she said last night makes me
an even bigger asshole—because I don’t deserve them, but she’s a fucking
saint for saying them anyway.
“You can always fix it, Mason,” she says, her lips curled
into a half smile. “That girl—she’ll always see the best in you. Even
when she doesn’t want to.”
The door swings shut behind her, and despite sitting in the
middle of a crowded restaurant, I feel completely alone. I have to find Ray.
And I have to get him to let
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