Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“How are you?” He moved closer, holding a bag of bread in his hand. Nothing else. He motioned around the grocery store. “I saw you when I was grabbing my stuff, and thought there was no way it was the same Ava from back in the day. But it is. Look at you. You look great.”
He had hit me. On more than one occasion.
He had torn me down, one insult after another.
When I was happy, he wanted to take that away, and he had. Every time until I learned it was better not to be happy around him.
All those memories came flashing back, pushing to the forefront, and behind them was the reason why I was here in the first place. To get food for my mom, because she was moving, because it was time to sell the house, because my grandmum was dying. Other decisions that had happened without my say, that were affecting me, just like he had.
“What are you doing here?”
He gave a shrug. “Family reunion. We’re camped out at Kade Campsite. You know where that place is? It’s new, but pretty cool.”
“You’re only in town for the reunion? You’re leaving right after?”
His eyes sparked, and not in a nice way. He began to open his mouth, but then–“Ava, you were getting the soup? I was supposed to get the pizzas.” Another person joined our group, and Zeke stopped next to me, looking down at his phone before lifting his face. A frown in place, but Zeke made sure to step somewhat in front of me before seeing Jarrod. “Oh, hey! You’re Jarrod Oster, aren’t you?” He held out his hand. “Zeke Allen. You remember me? We went to different schools, but I remember you.”
Zeke and I hadn’t talked since that day he helped me when I was drunk. It was a bittersweet moment for me. The first time I got drunk. A friend helped me out, and we talked the entire rest of the day. He made food for me, showed me his beautiful home before he gave me a ride home and then saw where I lived.
I was proud of our house. It wasn’t much. A bit run-down with peeling paint, a few cracks in the sidewalk, a few rotting porch posts, but it was my home. It would always be my home. Of that, I was very sure. Everything else, not so much, but I’d never have another home like that.
So yeah, when Zeke dropped me off, a part of me could’ve shriveled up in embarrassment.
That was the younger me. This different me stood proud and I brought him in, showed him around, and we sat and talked even longer in my living room.
I must’ve fallen asleep because when I woke up, I was in my room and he was gone.
That’d been six days ago.
Jarrod had gone still now, his head edging back before he straightened to his fullest height. “Yeah, man. Allen. I remember you, too. Academy, right?”
“Right.” Zeke’s tone was dropping the friendliness, and he edged even more in front of me. “You left school back then. Why the fuck you back?”
Okay. Yeah. All pretenses were gone. Zeke’s tone was low and dangerous, a warning.
Jarrod’s head snapped back, but those eyes turned mean too. “I’m saying hello to an ex-girl–”
“She’s not your ex.” Zeke was fully in front of me, his back to tight and tense, though his tone was almost soft. Eerily. “She’s not your anything because the time you had back then wasn’t anything, but haunts and lessons. Lessons like never going for another guy like you again. You taught her that.” His head clipped down in a nod. “Now, you get going. I’ll pay for your bread if that’s the case why you’re still standing here, being all hesitant.”
“You might want to watch–”
“No,” Zeke shot out. “I don’t think so because unlike Ava, I know where you’ve been. And I know another guy who was in the same place. Potomahmen. He’s all the way connected too. Won’t be too much work to give him a call if I need to.”
Zeke was talking about a prison nearby.
I edged to the side and saw Jarrod narrowing his eyes at Zeke. “You’re lying. You don’t–”
“Call my bluff. Please.”
Zeke wasn’t sounding bothered or ruffled. He was speaking cool and calm, and that was giving me shivers down my spine because I could feel how he wanted Jarrod to call his bluff. This was a glimpse of the old Zeke, back from high school. He was still in there.
“I don’t think so, man.” Slowly, almost achingly slow, Jarrod reached out and put the bread on top of a bunch of soup cans. “There’s another store I can go to.” He began to pass us by, but stopped, his head low. “You might want to not see me around town, but I got a feeling I’ll be seeing you. If you know what that means.”