Wrong Quarterback | ✓

24 | lean on me

The wheels in her brain spin at a much faster pace than the beat of the Shania Twain song traveling through the floor from the record player in the living room, trying to make sense of the words. Turning them inside out to find an explanation – any explanation – that isn't a confirmation of what she's feared ever since that Friday back in July.

    The beat of her heart slows as she swallows back the wave of nausea washing over her, having to gather her breath through the heaviness enwrapping her before she dares to cut in.

"Disney World?" She croaks out, clearing her throat at the sound of her own voice as she pulls one of her heels towards her. "As in Orlando?"

"Of course Amelia never got to make it there," Her father continues and she can't help the small flare of irritation in her chest over the response which isn't a response at all, her tongue pressing to the roof of her mouth. "Caught some stomach bug the poor thing. The rest of us went along while Eva stayed back with her at the hotel. Too bad. The boys had fun but I think she would have appreciated it more, considering she's older."

"Yeah. I... yeah."

"It's a bummer it didn't work out so you could come with us," Robert says now and her free hand balls into a fist, nails pressing into the clammy skin of her palm. "But we'll figure it out next time, yeah?"

    She hears an echo of her own voice agreeing to his words as she gets to her feet, letting him rattle off another of his run-on sentences as she moves across the room to her closet. With the phone balanced between her shoulder and ear she pulls the drawers out – grabbing a denim mini skirt and a light knitted sweater, dropping them onto her desk before leaning back against it.

They're on the phone another eight minutes before she finally gets to hang up, forcing herself to draw a deep breath into her lungs – needing just as much force to properly exhale it all before she gets her messages open to let Nic know she'll be late.

    She plugs her phone into it's charger, her father having talked away most of her battery before she gathers herself once more, pushing the tangled mess of thoughts to the back of her mind as she attempts to shrug it off. She gives herself another second before she heads for the shower.

♡♡♡

    For a town so adamant on nurturing the rivalry between it's two high schools, it is surely just as resolute on finding ways to bring the students together and the tradition of a joint Homecoming Week is no exception. On this Tuesday night the schedule reads annual BBQ, attended by students and faculty alike and while not mandatory to do so, not showing up at all is highly frowned upon.

Avery's hair is still damp from her shower – having opted to use the few minutes she had to get ready to apply concealer and mascara rather than engaging in a blow-dry – as she and Nic arrive at the park located in the heart of town. They steer they steps towards it's south end where the spectacle meant to work as an ice breaker, a settling of peace before the unofficial Homecoming game is played this weekend, is already in full swing.

This end is far more crowded than it's upper counterpart, bustling with noise. A game of Rounders is being played on the lawn stretching out before the huddle of low-hanging trees. Students, faculty, various alumni and parent-volunteers are crowding the space – stood around the grill, perched atop picnic tables or scattered around the lawns in smaller and bigger groups.

    Avery spots Lea sat on one of the swings in the nearby playground, one of her friends from volleyball sat on the other while Callie's leant against the wooden railing separating them from the rest of the park. Luke's nowhere to be seen but if she were to guess she'd say he's somewhere among the group of cavemen sounding Westers heading for the ridiculously long L-shaped table of food and snacks. Which is apparently where she and Nic are headed too, her friend hooking his arm in hers to steer her across the lawn towards it.