Ava knows who Jimmy O'Brien is - her first love and soulmate. Forced to spend time apart, Ava and Jim deal with their trust issues and insecurities.
When the lovers finally reunite and resolve to fight for each other, their fragile happiness is put...
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"Is Jim O'Brien your boyfriend?"
"Is it true that you're pregnant?"
"What about the pictures?"
"Are you the reason Jim O'Brien and Karina Garcia broke up?"
"Did you stalk him until he noticed you?"
It took me two agonizing minutes to snap out of it and slam the front door shut. The questions the reporters kept hurling at me morphed into distant noises, impossible to process through the persistent ringing in my ears.
I leaned against the wall, my clammy palm pressed to my chest, my heart beating in my throat. Camera flashes kept firing, illuminating the hall through the window.
What parallel reality was I in? What was going on? What sick joke was it?
What was I going to do?
My legs gave out. I lowered myself onto the floor and tucked my head between my bent knees, trying to breathe. Only that the air didn't want to make it into my lungs, and the cacophony of voices in the yard only made it worse.
Bookstore. I needed to go to work. I could hide there and call Dad. I needed to warn him there were reporters at home, invading our privacy.
Ordering my useless legs to obey, I scrambled to my feet and went upstairs, gripping the railing not to fall. I pulled a random tee and jeans from my closet and got dressed. After brushing my hair, I grabbed my car keys and phone and shoved them in my pocket.
The reporters surrounded me as soon as I exited the house, snapping more photos, asking more questions. I stared at my feet and pushed through the noisy crowd. Once inside my car, I jammed the key in the ignition and pulled out of my driveway.
It was when my house turned into a small dot in the rearview mirror that the first drop of many rolled down my cheek, and the magnitude of what happened tore a silent sob from my throat.
I made it to work before my shift was due to start. Still in my Chevy, I texted Dad there were reporters at home. Then I thought of Jim. Although he was involved, I couldn't call him and spoil his interview. I had to wait until my shift was over. They wouldn't wait there all day, right? They'd get bored and go home, and then Jim and I would have dinner with Dad and decide what to do.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and got out of the vehicle. In a couple of minutes, I entered the store.
It was packed. And every pair of eyes was on me.
My cheeks burning, I dashed to the employee area. When I got changed, I ducked out of the small room and cast careful glances around.
More and more people entered the bookstore, but they weren't customers. Murmurs and giggles filled the air, and my skin prickled with awareness.
