Cold Coffee and Stale Cigarettes *on hold*

Chapter 16

*IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE AT END OF THE CHAPTER. PLEASE READ*

 

                I was sitting on the beach at one in the morning when Ava found me. She sat beside me and did not speak –just followed my example and dipped her long thin toes into the water. Her frame trembled and her hair looked as though she had ran her fingers through it too many times. Something had happened today. Something painful. She didn’t want to talk about it.

                The sky was clear, stars glimmering dimly thousands of miles away, burning bright and cold and magnificent. For a moment, I can almost taste the star dust lightly dancing on the tip of my tongue. Maybe it’s just sand.

                “Hey.” I start the conversation, not looking at Ava, testing her desire to speak.

                “Hello.” The monotonous voice exiting her throat is stunning. I tense even though I don’t mean it. It was one of those days. I understood.

                “What happened?”

                “Nothing happened.” The answer is quick and sharp.

                “Something happened.”

                “I don’t want to bother you.” Yes you do.

                “If you bothered me I’d leave.”

                She does not speak for several moments.

                “I just had a rough day, ok?”

                I nod even though I should pester her. I should stand up and scream and shake her shoulders and let her know that I am her friend and friends are supposed to say something when they are upset. A normal person would have. A normal person would be pissed their friend was keeping secrets from them. It didn’t bother me like it should. I did the same thing. Ava would tell me when she wanted to. I could almost see the unspoken cries floating away on her breath. Her façade was always so cold and distant it made it difficult to see through it but her fingers were shaking and just below the roar of the waves, her breath sounded too sharp, and she gripped her wrists as if she wanted to rip them from the joints.

                “My mom,” her voice cracked. I didn’t speak, too afraid of scaring her. “She hates me.” I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell her that it’s not true. I want to tell her things will be ok.

                “Why?” I ask instead.

                “I ruin everything.” she gasps.

                “Not true.”

                “It is.”

                “No.” I insisted. “Our friendship? It’s good. You and Elliot? You’re good. You’re grades? Good. You? Good.”

                “No. My mom. I ruined her.”

                “No. She’s blaming you because she sabotaged herself and it hurts a hell of a lot less to hate someone else for ruining your life.”

                “If it wasn’t for me she’d be rich, living in NYC or something. She’d be happy.”

                “Or she wouldn’t.”