Liar, Liar | Ginny & Georgia

Chapter Forty-Three

THE BLONDE COULDN'T HELP but check herself in the side mirror on the Vespa, making sure her hair was still in place, before she walked over to the Baker house, letting herself inside, like she'd done so many times.

She walked to Marcus' room and saw him sitting with his sketchpad, looking up at her when she walked inside, a soft smile curling onto his lips. Avery planted herself on his bed, falling back and closing her eyes. She'd done it so many times she barely thought about it. "Rough day?" asked Marcus. He was being sarcastic.

"Not particularly. My social battery's just dead."

He hummed. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Marcus licked his lips. "I know neither of us are social creatures, but sometimes it feels like Ginny's pushing it. The birthday was fine, because we were upstairs, but this. . ." he hissed softly, "I don't know."

Avery bit her lip. "Yeah, I get it. I support dad and all, but the social events can become too much. I know he's the mayor and all, but damn."

Marcus couldn't help the laugh that slipped past his lips.

It was nice, to just be them again. They hadn't done that in a while. Granted, Avery was pissed before, but still. Avery dug around in her purse, before she found what she was looking for. A rolled joint, still in the plastic bag.

"Y'got a light?"

The Baker boy hummed, placing a lighter in her hand. "Thanks."

"Yeah."

Avery lit it and inhaled, letting the smoke be trapped for a few seconds, before she exhaled. "Oh, this is good." Marcus reached for it and she handed it over, sighing as she stared up at the ceiling. "Do you think everything would be different if we hadn't decided to date, two years ago?"

Marcus bit his lip. "Maybe, maybe not. Maybe we wouldn't have gotten together until now, or maybe we would've never gotten together. It's hard to say, Aves. But I think we'd still as close as we were."

Were. What a funny word. It was the past tense of 'be' in the second person singular form. It was often used to describe the past, something you could never change, but only look back on and remember. Or, try to forget.

Avery blinked, feeling the haze as she inhaled some more weed.

They weren't close anymore. And, even if Avery didn't want to be angry anymore, it was still Marcus' fault that they grew apart. "Why'd you do it?" He didn't have a clear answer to that. Avery raised herself onto her elbow and looked at him, glazed blue, meeting glazed brown.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. You know that, right?"

Avery sighed. "Yeah, I know." She laid back down. "I've been getting worse for a while. I slipped in October, before Brody's party. And. . . the panic attack you helped me with was only a fraction of it."

Marcus swallowed. "I'm getting worse too."

The two teens were aware that they needed to speak to someone other than each other, to really get the help that they needed, but they didn't know how to reach out. "I've-" Avery didn't know how to start. "I got a tattoo, recently and. . . I liked the pain."

His lips parted. He put the sketch pad away and laid down next to her, taking the blunt. "How much?"

"What?" She turned her head to look at him. "How much did you like the pain?" He was worried, it was obvious. "A lot." Avery allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek and meet his duvet. Marcus sat up, grabbing her wrist, gently. He smoothed the sleeve up on both, relieved to see smooth skin, instead of bandages covering scars. Avery sat up properly. "I h-haven't- I was afraid to-to actually do it. And. . . I didn't want anybody to worry."

Marcus hugged her tightly, allowing tears to fall into the crook of her neck, as she did the same.

"You know you can talk to me if you-if you ever want to cut, right?"

"Yeah. I promise."

Avery took a deep breath, her arms going around Marcus in a tighter hug, as he reciprocated it, dragging her slightly so she was almost sitting in his lap, her legs curled up underneath her. She was sitting in between his legs, crying into his neck as he did the same.

It was what they both needed; reassurance from each other that neither were going anywhere. Reassurance that they were still there for each other, even with all the bumps and potholes in the road and the slightly misshapen asphalt where some places held cracks. Cracks where weeds and dandelions were now growing in between. It was nice to see, that even if they were now different from each other and not fused together like before, they were still there.

And Avery really liked dandelions. It was the beauty in the broken; like when you cracked a plate and glued it back together, painting the little line gold. It was called kintsugi; a Japanese art form that roughly translated to 'joining with gold'. But it was absolutely stunning. It symbolized embracing imperfections as they were and appreciating them all the more for it.

"We're like kintsugi."

Marcus couldn't help the sputter of laughter at her words. "What's that?"

"It's a Japanese art, where you repair broken ceramics with glue and paint the cracks over with gold. It's supposed to symbolize embracing imperfections." She swallowed. "I think it fits the both of us. We're still being glued back together, but it's okay."

He sighed. "Yeah, but what if it takes too long? Or it breaks again?"

Avery sniffled. "That's okay. We'll take it as we go. I promise."

"Okay."

They didn't talk much after that, just hugged some more and smoked the rest of the blunt in silence, except for the scratching of Marcus' pencil over the sketchbook paper and Avery's breathing. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, after they'd smoked the rest.

Marcus couldn't help but admire her, as she slept. How her chest rose and fell with each breath, how her eyes flickered behind her lids, how her lashes brushed against her cheekbones. And how her lips looked, slack with sleep and exhaustion. When the other Bakers came back to the house, Marcus unlocked Avery's phone ( she hadn't changed the passcode ) and texted Paul from it. He sighed when he entered Marcus' room, scooping his daughter up and carrying her home. It didn't go amiss that his room smelled like weed or that the boys eyes were red, but it didn't matter.

Right then, he just focused on getting his daughter home and into bed. Once he'd entered her room, he laid her down on her bed and eased her boots off, before throwing a soft blanket over her body.

"Dad?"

It was little more than a mumble. "Get some sleep, honey. We can talk in the morning."

Heavy breathing was all he got in return, as the girl fell back asleep. Paul sighed and closed both doors, before heading for his and Georgia's room. "She asleep?"

"Yeah. And Marcus' room smelled like weed."

Georgia didn't hold back her chuckle. "What?" asked Paul, as he got dressed for bed. "Ellen's caught him a few times, but I doubt Avery's ever smoked it."

Lie. She'd seen them both stoned out of their minds, but she'd kept quiet. She wasn't a rat.