Seven

I'm a nervous wreck on the bus to school, having avoided my father all morning, not wanting him to see how much sleep I didn't get. I could tell from his equally groggy state, that he was in no mood to talk either, thank god.

I'm nervous that Avery isn't going to show up to school, or worse – she is, but with another bruise or new wound. I wracked my brain all night, going over every possible scenario for what I could have witnessed outside her house that night, when I made the drunk mistake of stumbling there.

Her father seemed angry, and even in my state, I could feel the aggression seeping off him when he charged out at Avery, before he knew of my presence. Even after he finally saw me, he still showed displays of violent anger, at least to me, someone with a history of violent anger.

I'm the kind of person that doesn't need alcohol to help me black out when I get angry, and beat the shit out of someone.

I know I'm not the only person like that, and I know there are far worse people than myself, who do horrible things in comparison to my crime.

It tortures and scares the hell out of me to think that Avery is living under a roof with that kind of man. I can't be for certain; he never laid a finger on her when I was there. That doesn't say anything for what happens behind closed doors.

When I arrive at school, I wait by my locker like usual, hoping to see her turn the corner. To my utter surprise, a few minutes after I close my locker, she whirls around, her hood pulled down far over her face like usual. I try and stop her in the hall, offering a small smile to let her know I'm not going to push her.

But she brushes right past me, not even looking up from her hood, hugging her books to her chest. She doesn't bother to stop at her locker, walking straight to class. My heart starts hammering, wondering what I could have possibly done wrong to receive the cold shoulder.

My mind instantly thought the worst; thinking she has a fresh bruise she doesn't want me to see, or something more horrible than that.

I rush after her down the hall and catch her just before she enters the class, grabbing her arm lightly. She winces away from me, a natural reaction I receive now, but for some reason it still tears at my heart slightly.

"Avery, is everything alright?" I ask, tugging her further away from the class. She still doesn't raise her head to look at me, instead casting her eyes towards the mural on the wall across the hall.

"Everything's fine, I just didn't want to be late for class," she mutters.

"Why are you ignoring me then? Did something happen last night?" I take a step towards her, desperately wanting her to look at me, so I can confirm that nothing happened, or at least see the look in her eyes when she tells me that.

"I got in trouble for coming home late, my parents don't want me going out for a little bit, and they also don't think it's a good idea that I be friends with you," she says quietly, looking down at her shoes now. I can tell without seeing that she is also biting her lip.

"Are you serious? They think it's my fault?" I ask, my voice almost coming out in a growl. She is a teenager who made a mistake. Yeah sure, ground her for a week to teach her a lesson, but don't strip away her friends.

"I agree with them, I have too much to focus on right now. I think we should just see each other for the project, then probably stop seeing each other as friends after that."

My ears ring with her words, the floor spinning underneath me.

She can't be serious. This can't be real.

"Avery, please tell me you're joking..."

I take another step towards her, but she steps back this time, keeping her distance. She doesn't say anything, silently confirming my fears.

I feel the anger burst through me before I can stop it.

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" I cry, earning a few crazed stares from students passing by and entering the classroom. Thankfully the door shuts automatically.

"Aiden, hush," Avery says, trying to cover my mouth. I lightly push her hand away, stumbling backwards, my body trembling from her rejection.

Why is she doing this? Why won't she let me in? What did I do?

"No, you owe me an explanation, something! Why are you doing this?" I hate how desperate my voice sounds, but right now I really don't care also. My heart aches, my mind swirling with questions.

Last night was great. We worked well together, watched a movie and I thought, even had a small moment.

But I guess I was right before; she has no interest in me. Not in the slightest, not even enough to want to be friends.

She remains silent, her head bowed so I can't see her expression. Not knowing what else to say, and feeling I have humiliated myself enough, I turn around and storm off down the hall.

My chest aches a little when she doesn't follow or call after me. I don't dare look over my shoulder or stop until I'm around the corner, my steps faltering a little at the anger still courses through me.

I all I ever did was try and help her, be there for her, and she pushes me away like I'm nothing. I don't want to admit to myself how much it hurts. Instead, I push through the front door and walk anywhere, deciding to just skip the whole day.

I find myself downtown, dragging my feet the entire time, ignoring the constant buzzing in my pocket. I have no doubt Tammy has already heard what happened, and has told Scott. The whole school probably knows what happened between Avery and I, there were quite a few students to witness it, and that school has always loved gossip.

I angrily kick a rock, watching it bounce and fall off the sidewalk. I have so much anger towards so many things; my wrongful conviction, losing out on so many experiences, messing up with Avery.

Out of everything, for some reason I don't wish I could go back. Even if Avery hates me for whatever reason, I don't regret meeting her. Who knows what kind of person I would've become if I hadn't met her?

I might be the angry, vent up person I was in juvie, suppressing my emotions until they exploded – on the wrong person. Instead, I've never been happier, and it's only been when I'm with her.

Thinking back to the times I've spent without her, like when she missed out on lunch or gym, I remember always feeling gloomy, like I had no energy to do anything. I always blamed it on being tired the night before, wondering and worrying about Avery.

But is that really it? Or was it because she wasn't there?

I shake my head and stop at a sidewalk bench, not bothering to stop and read the dedication plaque on the back. I toss my head back, letting my mind wander to happy thoughts of Avery. My thoughts seem to instantly drift to last night, and our moment on the couch.

A moment only I felt.

A pain pierces through my heart, making me grab at my chest slightly. I will the images away and sit up, throwing my head into my hands.

My head is a mess.

Remembering the one thing I have done in the past, whenever my thoughts or emotions got the best of me, I fish for my phone in my pocket and search my contacts, stopping on Mom.

She answers on the third ring, surprisingly.

"Aiden, honey, what a lovely surprise. What do I owe the pleasure of the call?" she asks, and I search for any sign of sarcasm, but there is none.

"I thought I should call and let you know I'm out of juvie," I mutter, though that isn't even close to the reason I called.

"I'm well aware of that, Aiden. I had your father call me every week and give me updates on you until you got out, I know everything," she says, catching me off guard.

My father called her every week while I was gone? For two whole years?

I really can't imagine them texting each other, let alone talking on the phone for more than two minutes.

"Why didn't you call?" I ask quietly, trying to keep my anger at bay.

"When we have the time, I would love to explain everything to you, because I am truly sorry, I never contacted you while you were in there," she pauses. "Something tells me this isn't why you called, however."

Wow, she's good. Or is it that obvious?

"You're right, that isn't why I called. I was actually hoping to get some advice? You know, like parental advice?" I mutter, fidgeting with my fingers. My mother and I haven't this kind of conversation in years, it feels incredibly awkward.

"Of course, what is it?" she asks, a little too eager.

"Well, it's about a girl at school–"

My mother squeals, cutting me off. "Oh, I have waited for this day! What's her name?"

I already regret this.

"Her name is Avery, she's in my grade at school," I say defeatedly. She already knows, she isn't going to let it go even if I hang up on her.

"What's she like?" she asks.

I open my mouth so say something, but I blank.

What is Avery like?

So many thoughts run through my head, a few of them inappropriate to mention to my mother.

"She's great, we've become really good friends." That was so plain, but the best I could do. There was so much more I could say.

"Well, what is the issue then?" she asks, I can hear the frown in her tone.

Everything.

"There is something wrong, but no matter how hard I try to get her to open up, she keeps pushing me away. Now, I'm afraid she's pushed me away for good, and I have no idea what I did, or what I can do to fix it," I explain, my voice cracking quite a few times.

"Oh Aiden, you sound like you really care about this girl," she says softly.

"Well, yeah, she's my friend."

My mother clucks her tongue. "Oh, please. Even I can tell that isn't true. I can't speak for her, but a mother always knows when her son is in love."

"Mom!" I cry, instantly ducking down and looking around me to make sure no one is around. Thankfully, it's the middle of a school and work day, not a lot of people are out for a stroll.

"What is so bad about the word love, that it makes you teenaged boys freak out?" my mother grumbles.

"Because I don't love Avery, I don't even know if I like her like that."

"Well, if you're calling for my advice, then I will tell you that there are obvious feelings on your part. I can tell just from the way you talk about her; you care a lot about her," my mother says, and I hear the phone shuffle in her hand, her probably telling her new husband to get out of the room.

"Apparently, caring isn't enough," I say.

"What do you mean by that?" she asks, and I launch into the whole story from this morning, not leaving out a single detail, or my mother would just pry it out of me anyway. I told her a bit of when I first met Avery and the small hints, I've seen leading to now.

"Oh, honey, that sounds terrible. But, Aiden, I want you to try and put yourself in her shoes, with your own situation. Is there anyone you feel can truly understand how you're feeling, or what really happened in order for you to be put in that situation?" she asks.

I feel the anger start to bubble again. "Are you saying I should ignore it and let her be?" I growl.

"Aiden, what I'm saying is to try and understand her actions, and why she is doing this. Don't give up on her just yet, still be there for her, no matter how hard she tries to push you away."

"What if I push too hard?" I whisper, my heart sinking.

"There is no such thing. We're all fighting battles no one knows nothing about; some of us are just stronger than others to admit it, but it doesn't ever mean they don't need help. Avery seems to be struggling, and has been fighting her battles on her own for quite some time. Having someone there, dedicated to helping fight them with her, she might be scared it isn't real," my mother says carefully.

I sit up on the bench, as if her words wake something in me, hitting me deep. "What do you mean?" I ask slowly, knowing she is going somewhere with this, and it might actually be good.

"When you were in juvenile, was there anyone there you could depend on? Even just for a moment?" she asks.

I think about it, and there really wasn't anyone. She takes my silence as a no. "When you first met Avery, how did you feel when you started getting closer to her? Was there any moment you feared her knowing who you really are, and the silent battle you're fighting?"

That's what she was getting too. There have been many moments where I wanted to tell Avery the truth about me, but feared how she would react. I don't want her to get close to that part of me, I want her to know the person I was before then, and who I am now.

"Maybe she's doing the same thing," I whisper to myself.

"What's that?" my mother asks.

"Sorry, I'm talking to myself, but you're right. I see what you mean now, and I get it. I have parts of me I don't want Avery to get close to, and if she were ever close to finding out, I don't know what I would do."

She hums on the other end. "I think you need to tell this girl how you really feel, stop sneaking around your feelings, and maybe she will be more willing to open up to you, knowing you aren't going to take off the minute she does. Some people are just afraid of getting close to someone, and then they leave once they find out the truth of who they really are."

She has no idea how right that is, and how much I feel that towards Avery with my own situation. Those feelings alone should have told me that my attraction for Avery is more than just that; an attraction. It's been more than that since the moment I saw her, I just didn't want to admit it.

The way she stuck out to me, not just because she was new, but just everything about her presence. It startled something in me, and awoke this sudden need for her. I haven't gone a day without thinking about her, or being near her.

"I have to go, mom, but thanks. This was nice, and you helped me figure out what I need to do," I say, a genuine smile spreading across my face.

"I know you will do the right thing. Despite our differences, Aiden, I have always known you are a good man, your father and I raised you well." My mouth falls open at her words. She hasn't given my father a compliment since I was a kid.

"You guys are good parents," I say back.

I hear a sniffle on the other end. "Please, don't hesitate to call, honey. I'm always happy to hear from you, it's been too long." She sniffles again and takes a deep breath, "I love you, Aiden, and I'm very proud of you."

My heart clenches, and for the first time in a long time, I have to hold back tears from building in my eyes. "I love you too, mom. I'll talk to you soon."

I have waited years to hear those words from my mother again. When her and my father divorced, I was angry at her for leaving him, for hurting the man she promised she would spend the rest of her life with, and raise their child; me.

But as I got older, I realized that though my parents loved me growing up, and they might have loved each other deeply at one point, they weren't happy. Even my father started going after what he really wanted, and seemed just a little more chipper after my mother left. Not right away, of course, but after some time had passed.

Though it was a wrong way for their marriage to end, it was never meant to go on. They had a few good years together, and did manage to have a family with precious memories, but what isn't meant to be won't be.

Thinking that pushes me off my feet, giving me a new found dedication, and string of ideas, for the next time I see Avery.