By the time Chance got out of bed the next morning, I was already up, standing by the bench as I cut up bell peppers for breakfast.
I wore only his shirt, so when he emerged from my bedroom, his hair ruffled in only a pair of jeans, he smiled sleepily. “You look a lot better in that than I do.”
I grinned. “Those jeans don’t look too bad on you, either.”
He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist, placing a small kiss on my shoulder as he pulled me close. I shut my eyes and enjoyed his scent and warmth. “How are you feeling?”
I sighed. “Sore,” I admitted finally. “But I’m okay.” I turned around. “I’m happy.”
He grinned as well. “Why don’t you let me cook for you for once? You can go shower or watch TV or whatever you want. I make a mean omelet.”
I glanced over worriedly at the fry pan, afraid to relinquish my coveted kitchen rights. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Definitely. Don’t worry. I’m an awesome cook.”
I laughed and walked over to the bench, dropping unceremoniously into a bar stool and wincing slightly as my body let out a pang of pain in my lower abdomen. A lovely reminder not to try such a reckless maneuver again.
I traced the bench top and felt a little embarrassed and nervous as I asked timidly, “Chance?”
“Yeah?” he asked absentmindedly as he cut up onions.
“Can I ask you a slightly awkward question?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes. “I just… I have to know.”
“Sure,” Chance answered, still cutting.
“How many girls have you, you know… been with?” I asked slowly, tracing patterns on the bench top with the tip of my index finger. After a second I realized I was just writing his name over and over again.
He stopped cutting. “Oh,” he whispered, nodding and clearing his throat as he caught on to what I was trying to get out. “Right.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He shook his head adamantly and turned around with a reassuring smile. “No, it’s fine. You deserve to know.”
I waited patiently for him to speak. “Two,” he admitted. “Not including you.”
Two other girls. That wasn’t so bad. There were most definitely worse answers to that question, considering he was twenty-two. Being an attractive, romantic, sweet guy, that was certainly less than I’d been expecting.
He continued on, cutting vegetables methodically as he thought through his answers. “The first was Zoëy, of course,” he said in a low voice, and despite that, I could still hear the sadness that her death caused him. “But then after she, you know… I was alone for a year. But on the anniversary of her death I, uh, I got a bit too drunk one night and met a girl at a bar and one thing led to another, and…. I made a mistake.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered and stood up, walking towards him and wrapping my arms around his waist, shutting my eyes and squeezing tightly.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and pulled me into him, his arms moving to hold me tightly. “It’s okay. You make it okay.”
I sighed and reveled in his warmth, before stepping back. “I’m gonna go shower, okay? I’ll see you soon.”
I quickly left, grabbed my clothes, and had a quick shower, my thoughts caught on Zoëy. I hadn’t thought about her in a while, but I couldn’t shake a feeling that gnawed at my stomach, telling me I was missing a piece of the puzzle or a part of the picture. Like there was something else that I just couldn’t put my finger on.
After I’d finished freshening up, putting on a light amount of makeup and prettying myself up, I made it outside to see Chance dishing up the omelets, his movements assured and gentle. The smell was mouth-watering, and I walked towards him.
“You hungry?” Chance asked, using an egg flip to put the omelet on the plate and place it at the bench. I took a seat on the stool and moved closer, grabbing a knife and fork and slowly cutting off a sliver of the breakfast mixture.
Chance leaned against the bench and stared at me as I raised the fork and placed a bit in my mouth.
I chewed and chewed and then suppressed the urge to gag. I let out a small cough and tried not to show any emotions on my face. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, after all.
Even if it tasted like he’d put enough chipotle on the omelet to feed a small country and then some.
Chance winced and then ran over to fetch a glass of water. “I’m sorry,” he told me, quickly filling it up and placing it in front of me. “I guess I’m not the best cook, huh?”
“No, it’s great,” I replied meekly, forcing a smile even as it threatened to burn a hole through my esophagus. “I now have a new appreciation for just how hot the Sahara desert would be… in a bushfire… on the sun.”
I downed the whole glass, but my whole mouth still felt like it was burning. Chance looked mortified as he ran to get me another glass. “I can’t believe it. I’m sorry. I thought it said it was mild chipotle sauce.”
“It did,” I conceded, breathing heavily and rasping. I was pretty sure I was bright red and steam was coming out of my ears. “If you don’t empty the whole bottle into the omelet.”
I took another drink, and the burning settled down considerably. It was still there, but it definitely felt better.
Chance came around and put his arms around me, nuzzling into my damp hair. “I’m sorry, Candi. Next time I think I’ll leave the omelet making to you.”
I laughed. “It’s okay. But you know what would make me feel better?”
He smirked. “What?”
I leaned forward and kissed him, before whispering, “This.”
~ * ~
I was expecting many things when Ava came home a few hours later.
Maybe her yelling and screaming about the previous night and how amazing it was. Or maybe she knew exactly what Chance and I had been doing for some strange supernatural reason, and was ready to obsess over it for hours. She could laugh, or scream, or hug, or a multitude of other reactions.
What I was not expecting, however, was for her to stumble through my door, drunk, crying, and in total hysterics.
I heard the door bang open, and stood up from where I’d been aimlessly checking the Internet on my laptop. Ava came into the kitchen moments later, breathing heavily with tears coating her face and heavily-lidded eyes.
“Ave?” I asked, walking towards her and feeling my heart race as worst-case scenarios pulverized my mind. Had she been attacked or assaulted on her way home? What was going on?
She leaned against the door and smiled bitterly. “Oh, Candice. The house’s heartbreaker. How lovely.”
I frowned at her slurred dialect. “Are you drunk?”
“I don’t know, Mom,” she said patronizingly, her voice slow and disjointed. “Am I?”
“Ava?” I said slowly, approaching her with caution. Like she was a dangerous animal at a zoo that needed to be caged quickly. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” she responded. “My brother’s totally hung-up over you, you don’t care, and, oh, my girlfriend’s parents hate me.”
And that’s how I knew exactly why she’d chosen now to get drunk and hysterical. “Oh, no,” I said slowly. “I take it the dinner didn’t go well?”
“Gee, what gave you that impression?” she snapped, putting her bag down on the bench top with more force than necessary. I flinched at the loud bang.
“Hey, I’m not the enemy here,” I told her, growing defensive. I didn’t like being the one she was mad at. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Oh, no, of course you didn’t,” Ava said, flitting around the bench. “Because you’re perfect, and everyone just loves you. I bet Rose’s parents would love you, too. But you’d just break their heart, wouldn’t you? Kinda like you did with Jamie and Seth.”
“That’s not fair,” I told her. “And don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one who chose to get drunk and angry.”
“Why don’t you join me, then? There’s a nice bottle of ‘screw you’ in the cabinet, if you’d like,” Ava said.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Look, Ave, I get that things didn’t go well with Rose’s parents. And I know that you’re upset, and confused, and you need someone to vent at. But I am not your punching-bag.”
She sighed and sat down, rubbing her temples. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just that… I think Rose and I… I think it’s over.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she let out a small sob, before burying her face in her hands.
I walked around and sat down beside her, pulling her towards me and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
She sighed and sniffed, raising her head. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and smeared mascara made tracks down her pretty face. “I knew it wouldn’t go well. I mean, they’re a nice, practicing Christian family, and I’m just a lowly girl. But they flipped. Threatened to disown Rose if she didn’t break up with me. They kicked me out of the house. And Rose… she just… she just stayed with them. She didn’t say a word when they yelled at me; didn’t comfort me when I cried. She just watched it happen. Even when I ran out, she didn’t follow me. It’s over, Candi. It’s over.”
She broke down into tears again, and I brought her closer, knowing nothing I could say would make her feel better. I didn’t have any life-changing advice or smart things to say. I was fresh out of help.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She sobbed, and when she spoke, her voice cracked. “Why couldn’t they like me? What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Ave, you did nothing wrong. You’re perfect, and they’ll see that. Eventually.”
“You didn’t see her face,” Ava whispered, wiping her eyes. “Rose’s mom…. She looked at me with so much… disgust. Like I was some filthy piece of dirt she’d find on the bottom of her shoe. Like I…” She swallowed thickly, trying to form a coherent sentence. “Like I made her sick.”
“I’m so sorry, Ava,” I whispered, and I meant it. She was my best friend, and it physically hurt me to see her like this. So distraught. And the worst part was that it wasn’t her fault; it was Rose’s parents. But still Ava would continue to blame herself for their prejudiced ways.
She leaned back, breathing in short, staccato breaths. “I think I just need a shower and some sleep.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’m here if you need anything. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She smiled tiredly, and in that moment she looked more fragile than I’d ever seen her before. Like a scared little girl. It broke my heart. “I’ll see you.”
I watched her walk away, hunched over and sad, and felt my heart give a pang. I’m normally pretty good at advice; in high school I was the one people came to for a love pep talk, even though I wasn’t into relationships myself.
But I’d never been in this kind of situation before, and I had no idea what I could even say to make Ava better. I couldn’t change Rose’s parents minds, and there was nothing I could do to change the pain. To mediate the situation.
I sighed and slid off the stool, quickly tidying everything up before I started to my room.
Once in there, I picked up the phone and stared at the screen for a while.
Come on, Candi, a voice inside me said. Grow a pair. Just do it.
Before I could convince myself not to do it, I unlocked my phone and called the one number I hadn’t spoken to in a long time—too long, considering the kind of sibling relationship we usually had.
“Hello?” The voice was groggy, and I knew immediately he’d been sleeping when I’d called.
I felt a flash of guilt, and swallowed thickly. “Hey, Jamie, sorry to wake you up. It’s me.”
“Candice?”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Long time, no speak, huh?”
“I thought it would be best if I gave it some space,” Jamie said honestly, sounding considerably more alert than he had moments before. “Anyway, what’s up?”
“It’s Ava,” I said, cutting to the point. There were probably a million other people I could have called, like Callie or Tessa or Chance or anybody, but Jamie was still Ava’s brother, and he was still the best person to talk to about this.
Any tension we’d ever had concerning our relationship with each other disappeared in that moment as worry for his sister replaced it. “What’s wrong? Is she all right?” he asked, his voice quick and hurried and scared.
“More or less,” I said. “But she met Rose’s parents. And it didn’t go well.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“I’m not really sure,” I told him honestly. “But from what I gathered they called their relationship disgusting, verbally abused Ava, and then kicked her out of the house. And Rose did nothing to stop it. That’s really all I got between the thinly-veiled insults and drunken slurs.”
“She was drunk?”
“And hysterical.”
“I’ll kill them,” he said, not in the tone of someone with truly homicidal tendencies, but in the voice of a wronged brother wanting to protect his little sister.
“She’s sleeping now,” I told him. “But I thought maybe you might want to come over and talk it over with her tomorrow? I think she really needs her brother right now.”
“Of course,” he said. The conversation seemed to flow easier between us now that the initial strain had left, and we’d been speaking for a while. I’d missed him, if we’re honest. “How are you? I heard you, uh, you went back to your hometown to see the folks. How was that?”
“Probably as awkward as expected,” I said honestly. “But it got better. They’re different people to the ones I knew in my childhood, that’s for sure.”
“I also heard about the Institute,” he continued, but, despite his cheery tone, I could hear the strain behind it.
“Really?” I asked, taken aback. “From where?”
“Ava?” he said, though it came out as more of a question. “You know, there’s this cool new gadget called a phone that people can call each other on and discuss certain topics. Sometimes brothers and sisters use that. She told me. That’s really cool. I always knew your truffles were great, but a scholarship to England is incredible. Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, picking at a loose thread on my shirt. “I mean, part of me totally wants to, but the other part of me wants to stay here in what I know.”
“I know this is probably irrelevant, but last year I spent six weeks in Peru studying the difference in Mass Communication, and it was incredible. Especially the llamas at Macchu Picchu, but that’s not important. Anyway, it can be really beneficial to try a new lifestyle. I know it’s not much of a culture change, but, hey, who doesn’t enjoy crumpets and tea with the Queen and her corgis?”
I laughed at his crass speculation of the country (which I did know was not true at all) and shook my head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” he responded. “Look, I have to go. I have a morning class tomorrow, so I’ll drop by early afternoon around two. Sound good?”
“Perfect,” I said. “See you then.”
“See you, Candi-Cane,” Jamie replied.
Even after the click of him hanging up sounded and the dial tone began playing in my ear, I continued holding it there.
It had been a while since I’d last made contact with Jamie, and it felt good to speak to him again. I didn’t like this rift between us, nor the wary distance he was keeping from me. I missed his playful nudges and his nice smile and the way he could turn anything into a hilarious joke.
It gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, some things could be fixed, after all.