All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) Read online

  “Ave?”

  She was waiting for me to get mad. I was too. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I didn’t care at the moment. “Yeah?”

  “You don’t hate me?”

  “No.” I should hate Kyle for being such a womanizing prick-head, but I should have warned her about him too.

  You could still warn her. Tell her about tonight.

  I can’t do that, Marcus. I can’t hurt her like that.

  That’s hurting her? Telling the truth?

  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything. Then I lay there silent for several minutes, feeling like I stood at the end of a diving board. Our breathing synchronized, both fast and nervous.

  “Kristina?” It sounded like Kyle calling her.

  She slid out of bed and whispered goodnight, the way she’d done so many times before, but I wondered if we’d ever do this again.

  ***

  I woke up feeling … hung over. I burrowed down into the covers and hid under my pillow, but something told me things wouldn’t get better on their own.

  Marcus? Not feeling so good …

  Not much of a drinker, are you?

  “I’m not old enough to be much of a drinker! Now tell me how to fix this.”

  What makes you think I know how to fix a hangover? Christ. Okay. Water, Ibuprofen, and toast.

  I struggled out of bed and toward the bathroom. “Does Tylenol cut it?” I looked at my medicine supply, thinking it shouldn’t matter which medicine I used.

  Ibuprofen if you have it.

  I dug a little deeper into my medicine and found a bottle. I also had Ritz crackers in my room and opted for that over going to the kitchen and making toast. I grabbed a glass of water and nibbled crackers while sitting in the computer chair. Normally I loved my Ritz with hot chocolate, but not today.

  I crawled back into bed. Thankfully the house was fairly quiet. Just a low murmur here and there, the TV flicking on and turning down, the toilet flushing. The subtle sounds lured me back to sleep.

  ***

  Feeling better?

  For a moment I thought only about how smooth and nice his voice sounded, and then I realized I felt pretty good.

  “Yes, thanks.”

  Nash is tearing your phone up …

  “You don’t sound like you want me to jump up and answer him,” I said. Marcus didn’t answer, and I reached for my phone. Nash wanted to know if I was free that night. Hoping I’d feel better by then, I texted back that we could hang out.

  “Marcus, are you mad about last night?”

  Should I be? What are your rules on this one?

  I laughed despite everything, then pulled myself out of bed. I took a shower and went out to the living room to help clean up. Actually, no one had started yet, so I picked up trash, put the cans in a bag to recycle, and washed counters. I was cutting up the plastic beer can holders when Marcus laughed.

  What are you doing?

  “I don’t want them to get stuck on a turtle or something.”

  Seriously?

  “Yes, seriously, it happens. These wash out into the ocean and get stuck on animals.”

  Huh.

  We were still talking when Kristina walked out in a tank top and pajama pants, yawning. Her hair was puffed up pretty high today, but still in tiny ringlets.

  “Word! That was crazy last night!” She went to the coffee pot and started a pot. “Don’t think I’m running out to Starbucks right now.”

  We slipped onto the stools and watched the coffee start to drip.

  “So … um, you know that guy Jasper?” I asked.

  She had to think for a second. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it, Ave. No one’s going to tell Nash. It’s not like you took him to your room or anything … right?”

  “Uh, you helped me to bed, remember?”

  She tilted her head. “Maybe, vaguely.” She found that funny.

  I laughed, relieved. If she didn’t remember that, maybe she didn’t remember our heart-to-heart about Kyle.

  So you’re going to let her off the hook?

  What do you want, I asked him, for me to jump all over her? She’s not saying anything about me dancing with Kyle last night.

  Marcus about threw up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marcus

  So I was a good boy. I was quiet while Avery cut up the plastic beer holders, took out the trash, and even freaking hung Kyle’s sweater on the coat rack. She took a shower and talked to Nash on the phone while I practiced calm breathing in the corner of her mind.

  I tried not to listen, but it was hard not to notice how Nash sounded a little too curious about her night. I got the impression he’d heard about her dancing with other guys. Maybe he knew about Kyle. That had to confuse him after Avery shared the truth about Kyle. Well, I shared. For her own good.

  She left for the store without saying anything about it to me. Not like she needed to discuss things with me. Her life and all. She could flirt with anyone she wanted to. She could dance with anyone she wanted to. I didn’t have any say in what she did, and I didn’t have any right to get angry or even care. I didn’t care in fact. I didn’t give a rat’s ass what she did with her life. Hell, if she wanted to date Nash and screw different guys at drunken parties, she had my blessing!

  Fuck!

  Screw it. I couldn’t do it. But how the hell was I going to do anything about it?

  I’ll tell you how. I wouldn’t let her mess around like this anymore. Who cared if she was confused. What about me?

  We’d reached the little Safeway and recycled beer cans before I noticed where we were. She walked into the grocery store feeling a bit sluggish from the night before, not worrying about me. We passed a teenage girl and I whistled.

  The girl jerked her head back, did a double take, and hurried out.

  What the hell was that?

  Just a little flirting. You know something about that.

  What’s up with you?

  Dunno. Guess I wanna have a little fun too, since we don’t seem to have any standards and all.

  She huffed out a breath and stopped in front of the bananas.

  Marcus, do I need to leave the store? Or are you going to let me shop?

  Not sure I care either way. Not like I can eat in here. But check out the ass on that chick over there.

  She surprised me by looking, and then asking, So that’s your type?

  No, it wasn’t. I tried not to tell Avery that, even as a nice coating of guilt washed over me. I didn’t answer and she went back to shopping, but she tried to avoid aisles with people in them. Then, when she was intent on choosing a box of crackers—because it’s a life-or-death decision for her—a hot girl about Avery’s age walked by. Taller, more blond than Avery, and a boob job that said she was trying to impress. (Ya really don’t need that much.)

  I turned Avery’s head and made her say, “Bonjour belle.”

  The chick looked back for a second, her gaze swept up Avery, and she turned around with a curious smile on her bright red and perfectly lined lips. Ohhh—didn’t see that coming!

  “Hello,” the woman said.

  Avery had no idea how to handle this. I burst out laughing, making it even harder for her to think. The woman wasn’t sure what to make of Avery’s wax figure impression and slowly turned around. She looked back twice before turning the corner, though. I tried to tap down my laughing.

  Ave, babe, you could have some fun with that one! College is the perfect time for experimenting, right?

  I got the icy treatment for the rest of the shopping trip, except for the long look Avery gave the beer case.

  Bet you miss beer, don’t you? And snowboarding? And playing your guitar? Yeah, you can kiss all that goodbye.

  You know about kissing life goodbye, don’t you, Avery?

  I sneered the words, unable to stop.

  You think you can be cold all the time so you won’t end up like your dad. You think you can avoid that kind of pain again if you steer clear of any g
uy who actually enjoys life and wants to have fun.

  She stopped by a shelf, reaching for something, but I don’t think she even saw what it was. Then she started humming. What the hell? She hummed along with the stupid song playing in the store and went on with her shopping, ignoring me. It was the first time she was able to do that.

  When we came up to the register, she picked the longest line, and the only one with a male cashier. He was close to sixty with little glasses and a smile, and he checked us out like we’d stepped back in time and gone to a mom and pop store on the corner. That didn’t help Avery’s mood.

  Outside, she threw herself into the driver’s seat, and barely got the door shut before hissing, “You are acting like a two-year-old!”

  Two-year-olds probably don’t get as horny as I do.

  I just couldn’t quit!

  She stopped with her hand on the key, and asked, “Is this about last night?”

  Bingo, I thought, but kept it to myself. It didn’t feel good to realize how transparent I was acting.

  “Marcus?”

  We watched a guy in a suit walk by with his face down over his phone. A young blond mom went the other way, bouncing a cute baby in front of her, talking with a giant smile. I didn’t want to say anything. I like it when she talks out loud to me, like I’m a real person in her world. I’d accepted the frustrating-as-hell fact that her world was my only world.

  “Marcus?”

  I sighed.

  Maybe it’s about last night.

  “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  And say what?

  I wished I could pound on something. Or hit some 360s. Or take Avery back to her bedroom and rip her clothes off. No, that’s not how I’d do it at all.

  What should I say, Ave? I hate listening to other guys flirt with you. I hate it even more when they touch you. I think I might plow my fist into Nash’s face. Or Kyle’s. Or the dickwad from last night. I can’t handle this.

  She groaned and tipped her head backwards, closed her eyes and rubbed her face. “And what do I do about it?”

  Stop dating.

  I threw it out there in anger. She didn’t respond. We sat and listened to the muffled sounds of life outside of the car. Seemed like we both liked to talk in the car. The way it cocooned us away from the world made us feel more normal.

  I want to make you something.

  She opened her eyes.

  Go back in and get me a few things? I want to make you dinner.

  It was something I could do, something that would be for her and not just me wanting to snowboard or play music. I felt her struggle over it, but her hand reached for the door handle.

  “You’ll behave?” she asked, a warning in her voice.

  Yes, ma’am.

  I was busy trying to remember my ingredients.

  An hour later, we were back at the house, standing on the back porch while Avery tried to light the barbeque.

  “I don’t think this thing has been used in a while,” she said with an irritated growl. She tried to brush the corrosion off the gas burners down in the bottom. We’d seasoned and wrapped salmon in the tin foil. It was set on the side of the grill, waiting. She got the burners to light and put the fish on, then turned down the gas like I said. Back inside, I walked her through cutting up avocados, tomatoes and cilantro for the salsa, then adding a little lime. Next she cut up the cabbage and wrapped the tortillas up to warm up on the grill.

  “So can you really cook?” she asked. “Or is this your one dish to impress chicks?”

  I thought about it, trying to remember anything else I could make. Cold cereal came to mind first. Not a good sign. Wait … I knew how to bake, grill and fry chicken. Chicken Marcella. Stuffed Chicken.

  Avery laughed. “I’m seeing a theme here.” She opened a bottle of orange pop and took a long swallow.

  No, I can grill a mean steak too.

  Backyard barbeques. Cold drinks. A few clouds going by. Chilly spring air on our skin.

  Seems like your friends should be here, ya know?

  “Yeah. It’s just gotten so complicated to be around them.”

  Well, this dinner will fix you up.

  She smiled, getting up from the wicker chair to go inside and get the other ingredients. When the fish was done, she put together her taco and sat on the back porch to eat.

  “These are amazing!”

  The fish and tangy salsa blended together into perfection, the way I knew it would. Out on the horizon, the sky grew hazy and purple as twilight came on.

  I would treat you so much better than Nash ever does. I’d take you to a candlelit seafood dinner on a balcony, with flowers, music, an orange sunset, and the best food you’d ever eaten. I’d dance with you someplace classy. I want to take you places.

  “Places?”

  Foreign places with tropical palm trees and white sand beaches. Then somewhere with snowcapped mountains and little hut villages. Then out to sea. Europe. All over the world.

  Ave shook her head slowly. “I don’t think you’ve lived a normal life.”

  There’s so much more out there, Avery. We should go see it. If only we’d met some normal way.

  “I know,” she whispered. “Life seems to tease me that way, always showing me what I could have.”

  Images of her parents flew through her mind—her dad’s wide smile and her mom’s oh-honey look. Then I saw Kyle and Nash, in different frames, different times. Even Kristina came to mind.

  Ave, baby, life isn’t about losing everything.

  “It isn’t? You can say that from where you are?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Avery

  The next morning I woke up paranoid and deleted my Word file on “The Problem,” just to ensure that no one could find it, if someone actually snooped on my laptop. It was Sunday, late morning already, and I didn’t have anything on my to-do list for the day, which left me feeling anchorless and floating. Dim light filtered in through the sheer white curtain. It was a drizzly, wet day outside. I leaned back on my headboard, wearing a long gray T-shirt that I liked to sleep in, the laptop in front of me.

  Then, since I didn’t feel Marcus lingering around, I googled “women in snowboarding.” I’d been trying to figure out what kind of woman Marcus would date in his real life. Whoa. I found more info than I’d expected—lots of photos too. He said things about liking the natural look, and I guess I could see why. The photos were girls and women who looked naturally beautiful: strong, healthy, long hair, big smiles with nice teeth. Maybe I was buying into a stereotype … but I still weighed myself against it and wondered if I made the cut. They looked way more confident than I could remember feeling.

  I stared blankly at my laptop screen. It wasn’t like I thought I could actually work on anything, but thinking about doing something was supposed to help. It didn’t. I closed the laptop and set it on the floor.

  Kris knocked—she was driving up to Medford to shop with Dawn.

  Why don’t you go?

  The very last thing I wanted to do was listen to Dawn prattle on.

  “No, thanks,” I called since she hadn’t opened the door. “Sorry. I want to catch up on sleep.”

  “Okay, see you later!” Their voices and laughter faded until the front door slammed shut.

  When I was a kid, a hummingbird flew in through our open front door and tried to escape out a window. We tried to help by shooing it back out the door, but it kept going to the window, throwing itself against the glass until it finally just slid down and lay on the windowsill. My mom let me carefully pick it up and take it outside. The tiny bird was fluorescent green and hot pink and so beautiful. It was like a mini work of art, lying in the palm of my hand. As soon as I was out in the sunshine, it immediately flew away.

  But now I know exactly what that little bird felt like when it gave up and lay down.

  So … what are you saying? You’re accepting this reality?

  I jumped—I hadn’t expected him to intrude on my
personal moment.

  “Do you have a better idea, Marcus? You don’t want me to tell anyone, and I can’t find anything that helps. Except … a concussion started all of this … what if?”

  No! Babe, that’s crazy. And there’s no reason to even think it’ll fix things.

  “Why not? This doesn’t make any logical sense.”

  PROMISE ME you won’t do anything to yourself.

  I sighed in response and slid down under the covers.

  ***

  Avery?

  I rolled over so I could stare at the wall under my window. The light had changed, slanting in differently, as if it was much later in the day. Six, actually. Huh. I’d slept most of the day away.

  Sweet pea? Tiger Lily? Come on, life isn’t that bad. I’m sorry about the store. Okay? I’ll be quiet from now on when you’re out doing things and talking to people.

  This was so unfair for Marcus. I rolled over again and looked at the guitar across the room. We could play. My phone buzzed as I thought about it.

  See, you can go out with Nash. It’s still the weekend, right? Go live a little.

  “Marcus …”

  Go look at your texts. I mean it. You need to do something. This lying around and moping is worse than—

  “Ha! Yeah, right.” I sat up. Marcus wanted me to hang out with Nash?

  Hanging out isn’t so bad. It’s the making out that makes me want to puke all over him. But you can just tell him you have a cold sore and Herpes outbreak, so all you can do is talk.

  Not going to happen!

  I grabbed my phone and stopped short of turning on the screen.

  “If you make me say anything like that to Nash—or anyone else, for that matter—I will NEVER play the guitar again, or take you running, snowboarding, anything. Got it?”

  He sighed.

  You’re no fun.

  “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll go have fun with Nash then.”

  Only when I started to call Nash did I realize Marcus had cheered me up. I almost ended the call but Nash picked up.