Ava
Venice?
This is huge.
Gramps keeps talking, like he didn't just drop the biggest bombshell in my lap. And make no mistake - it is a bombshell and it's just exploded, sending my emotions everywhere.
"School won't be a problem," he says. "We've already talked to the principal and he agrees that with the advances you've made in the accelerated courses you will have no problem with skipping a month or two of school this winter."
My thoughts skitter but Beckett is beside me, a steady, reassuring presence. How strange that the only person I feel I can really depend on right now isn't even a member of my family.
"I...I don't know what to say," I manage.
"Well, what is there to say?" Gram says in a sprightly tone of voice. "You've always wanted to go to Italy, every since you read Romeo & Juliet for school." She stretches out her hands and takes mine. Hers are startlingly warm. That, or mine have frozen. "Just say 'yes', sweetheart. We'll have such fun together."
"I'm thankful," I say. "Really. But..." I let my voice trail off because even I'm not certain why I'm not jumping at this chance. I have my work at the Society, of course. I don't really want to get behind in school, although Gramps is right: it's not much of a problem.
Does my reluctance have something to do with Beckett's hand entwined with mine?
Gramps and Gram's faces both show disappointment. Guilt washes over me. How can I think of dumping them, so to speak, over a guy I didn't even know this time last year?
But before I can say that, of course, I'll be happy to go, Gramps says, "We understand this is a lot to spring on you. We'll give you a few days to think about it, won't we, Marge?"
Gram nods. "Of course. Take all the time you want, sweetheart. We don't have to leave for another month or so."
I nod. Smile. Thank them again.
We're all done our hot drinks and desserts. Beckett hasn't said much - maybe he's feeling uncomfortable about having to witness all our family drama.
And there's certainly a lot of it.
Gramps and Gram stand. "Thank you for turning seventeen, Ava," Gramps says.
"And inviting us to celebrate!" Gram winks at me. "But seniors and late nights don't mix well, so we're going to say goodbye."
She and Gramps both give me a final hug and kiss and then they're grabbing their coats and walking out the door. I raise a hand in farewell, but I don't think they see it. I stand in the hall, shoulders slumped and feeling the let-down that comes after a whole lot of fun.
Only, I didn't have any fun.
I return to the dining room to find that Mom has broken out her after-dinner wine. Gram thinks that she drinks way too much and Mom hates arguing with her parents so she tries not to drink at all when they're around.
Anyway, Mom's ignoring Beckett which is totally rude so I invite him into the living room while the staff clears the table. We sit together on one of the many couches scattered around the room. This one's my favorite though. Rose pink and plush.
"Do you think you'll go?" he says.
I sigh. "I don't know. Probably. What do you think?"
He shrugs.
I prop my elbow on the back of the couch and turn to face him. "What? You don't think I should go?"
I mentally shoot myself. Why did that sound so...so hopeful?
"I'm not in a position to say anything," he says, hands raised. As if to forestall further questions from me - which I definitely would've asked - he pulls the newspaper-wrapped package out from beside him. "It's your birthday," he says. "I'm sorry the wrapping isn't more, I don't know, festive or something. I hope you like them. But first..." He pulls a card from his pants pocket. "Your gift from Mr. Bell."
I open the envelope. What could Mr. Bell have given me?
The card is plain white, with a single pink balloon and "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" on the front. Inside is a short note.
Happy birthday, Ava!
As my gift to you, I won't sell a certain perky pet until I can sell him to you.
All the best,
Cyrus Bell
I stare at the note, tears coming to my eyes without warning. "This is real, right?"
Beckett grins. "Yes. I talked to him like I said I would and it's definitely real. The dog'll be waiting for you when you've saved enough money."
"And how much is the puppy?"
He named a price so stupidly low I could pay for the puppy three times over with my monthly allowance. But I won't do that. I'll work and earn and save every penny I can.
"I'll send him a thank you note as soon as possible," I say.
"He'll like that." Beckett hands me his gift. "Now mine."
I unwrap the newspaper with care. It isn't taped, but instead there are layers upon layers wrapped around two small books. I pull them out, flip them over to see the titles.
Lord of the Flies. And The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Other people might say that they're in 'very used' condition, but to me they're well-loved.
"You gave me your copies," I say.
He blushes. Actually blushes and looks away. "Well, yeah. I didn't have time to buy new ones. I hope it's okay."
"I love them," I say, hugging them to me. And I do.
"They're not in the best condition."
"Beckett, they're perfect. Seriously."
"Lord of the Flies has some of my school notes in it from tenth grade. Just so you know."
"That's when it became your favorite book?" I ask, tracing the cover with my fingertips.
"You remembered." He smiles. Dimples pop out and I realize I've missed them. He hasn't smiled much lately. "And, yes," he adds. "It was my new favorite book."
It's incredibly sweet of him to give me his favorite book, and a copy with a personal history no less. One that's really special to him. "And the other book?" I ask, holding it up.
"Well, I didn't have a copy of Lord of the Rings, but Wardrobe is another fantasy classic. The author, C.S. Lewis, was good friends with the author of Lord of the Rings, so I thought it fit."
"Because we're friends?"
"Well, more because I mentioned Rings before, but yeah. The friends thing works too."
I sit back and smile. Beckett's gift...I love it. Them. Whatever. I watched the three Narnia movies a long time ago and liked them, but books are always different from their movies. So Wardrobe, as Beckett called it, should be an interesting read.
"I'll start this one right away," I say, holding up Lord of the Flies. "I saw you reading Emma, so it's only fair that I read your favorite book."
"I meant to ask you about that," Beckett says.
"You don't like it?"
"No, no. It's a little different than what I usually read, but it's good." He shakes his head. "No, I just wanted to ask you why you said that Emma reminds you of yourself. Because I can't see any resemblance. Except..."
"Except that we're both rich?" I grin when he smiles shamefacedly. "Don't worry about it, Beckett. We both know that my parents have a lot of money. Dad's present this evening proves it." I'm rambling, trying to get off-topic and swearing myself out for mentioning anything about Emma in the first place.
Though Beckett is the one person I could see myself opening up to.
About the hospital.
About Liam.
A/N: Hey, you guys! I know I always say this, but this chapter is one of my absolute favorites. Beckett and Ava are ever so slowly going from friends to...something more and it's a delight for me to share with you. <3 If you enjoyed this chapter, would you consider adding The Truth About Us to your reading lists and voting? It would mean a lot! Thanks so much. :)