01 | Re
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Our group huddles beside the entrance to the market, the loud mix of chattering voices and faint music floating into the air.
My eyes gaze across a few of the food stalls, the smell of something sweet catching the attention of my tastebuds.
As I rub my hands together in the cold, a voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Ava, I think that guys checking you out," Cole says, half-laughing.
I turn to face him, pulling my expression into a frown, "What?"
Cole nods to his left, indicating for me to look beside him.
When I follow the direction of his fuzzy, shaved head I do indeed see a guy staring at me, in that way guys do when they check you out.
They smile and shove their hands in their pockets and think she totally doesn't think I'm a creep when I one hundred percent think he is.
"What are we thinking?" Kat's suggestive voice asks from behind me, peering out to get a better look at the guy, "Will he be the one to finally break your vow of celibacy?"
"It's not a vow of celibacy!" I snap back, glaring at her, "I just... don't need a boyfriend."
"Right," She narrows her eyes, "Not getting laid since college sounds like celibacy to me."
It wasn't really supposed to be, but I guess to my friends me not really getting involved with guys is a bit unusual. I didn't do anything in high school, there were guys who liked me but I never entertained it, I was focused on my schoolwork more than anything.
Thenmy parent's relationship turned into a fucking car crash and I seemed to fall flat on my face.
I think that's why I went a little bit crazy in college, hooked up with a lot of guys and fuck do I regret most of it.
When I dropped out I sort of reverted back to high school Ava who pays no notice men.
"We're not all pretty enough to go around ignoring everyone who hits on us," Alex adds, "If I'd rejected as many people as you have I'd be out of fucking options."
I roll my eyes, unsure of whether to take that as a compliment or not. It's funny because we both know Alex is very much an attractive guy and pulls girls very easily, almost as easily as I attract guys. I smile at him a little and he shrugs, emphasising his point.
"Sooooo," Cole coos, interrupting, "What are we doing about Mr fuck-me-eyes over there?"
All four of us look over at the same time, making eye contact with the brown-haired man. He's immediately a little uncomfortable by our group staring, confidence draining from face as he turns away a little. I can't tell if he's actually ordering something from a stall or just pretending.
"I think that scared him off," I mutter, the cold biting at my cheeks.
"Scared who off?"
The words make me freeze.
Nolan.
I turn around slowly, body suddenly burning with anticipation.
I haven't heard that deep voice in so long, it's slightly huskier, but filled with the same amused cadence.
I hadn't really known what I'd feel in this moment, whether I'd be able to separate the person I knew from this magically rehabilitated person Riley claims he is.
I don't seem to feel anything, my mind going completely blank.
"Hi, Birdie," He grins, tilting his head a little as I take in his appearance.
Birdie. That nickname I haven't had since I last saw him - a nickname I only ever got from him.
He once overheard me and Riley finding out the origin of our names for a school project, Ava meaning bird in some cases.
As soon as he heard the words 'I hate that' leave my lips it was all he ever called me.
As the guys go over to give him a hug (he facilitated most of the shit they smoked in high school, Riley has never been happy about this), I just stare, mind devoid of any thought. I don't think I hate him but I don't know what feeling has replaced that either. It's just... emptiness.
His chocolate brown hair sits messily on his head, falling slightly over his forehead as rouge curls twist through the straight locks.
Those hazel eyes flash with flicks of green and brown, wide and lined with dark lashes as he blinks.
His pink-tinted lips curve into a smile above the strong line of his jaw, framing his olive skin and dark brows.
And, just as Riley said, that small shiny piercing is still cupped around his lower lip.
He looks different, better almost. His hair is somehow messy on purpose as oppose to the tangled mess of teenage years.
He often had stubble back then too, now he's clean shaven in a way that makes it seem like he takes care of himself.
His eyes seem brighter and his whole face is misted with that sophistication that you get from age.
He's definitely not a teenager anymore.
"Everyone, this is my reformed brother," Riley chimes before turning sharply to the guys, "No, he will not sell you weed don't even fucking try."
I hadn't even noticed she arrived with Nolan, I was too distracted by seeing what feels like a ghost from the past. It's definitely him, the boy that stalked the house I spent so much time in, but it's also like I've never met him at all.
"I missed you, dude," Cole mumbles, "We need more guys in this friend group."
"Two is more than enough, thank you," Kat fires back.
I realise I still haven't said anything, whilst everyone else said their hellos and offered a hug I've just been standing here like an idiot. I barely notice until Riley looks at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"Welcome home," Is the best I can come up with, apparently.
Nolan smiles, brows furrowing, "Did you miss me, Birdie?"
Now that's an easy question I can answer.
"Not at all."
He just smiles, gaze grazing the blue of my eyes. Before, he would've taunted me much more for answering like that - I wonder if he's holding back out of politeness or really is the changed man everyone claims he is.
"Right, let's go, I'm starving," Riley announces, grabbing my hand and charging us into the market.
It's busy, as it usually is in November, and it takes us a while to navigate the flow of the place.
I don't mind much, liking the sparkle of the Christmas trees and flow of festive songs that change the more stalls we walk past. We also seem to pass a fake snow machine at one point because little white flecks cling to the strands of my long, blonde hair.
When we see a stand selling churros everyone is very much persuaded to get some, less so to stand in the ridiculously long line for them.
Riley agrees to buy them for me, which saves me from being packed into the crowd of hungry people.
Kat and the guys also seem desperate enough to join the queue, leaving me stranded before I even realise it.
For a moment I forget it's not just our group like usual, only being reminded by the man beside me as I turn around.
"You've still got snow in your hair," Nolan says, staring at me.
My eyes trace the side of his jaw again, then the thick strands of his hair and the flecks of his eyes. I still can't believe he's really here, towering above me with a smile etched into his face. He seems taller. I'm sure he hasn't grown but the high difference feels more noticeable.
I guess he takes my lack of response to his statement as an okay to deal with the problem himself.
He leans forward, slotting his fingers into the loose waves of my hair and picking out a few pieces of artificial snow.
I freeze up again, just letting him do it.
I guess I don't particularly care if he does, but shouldn't I?
"Thanks," I say after he leans back again, my voice quiet.
He frowns, "You not scared of me anymore, Birdie?"
It catches me off guard, the forwardness.
It's the first in-character thing he's done since he's got here, despite perhaps calling me by that stupid nickname.
He used to say whatever he wanted, all of his thoughts spoken out loud for the world to hear.
It was even more intense when he was intoxicated.
"I've never been scared of you," I say, making my voice louder to mask the fact that's partly a lie.
"Really?" He taunts, "If I tried to touch your hair like that six years ago you would've died on the spot."
"Six years ago you would've tried to touch my hair to get me to die on the spot," I mutter back, voice gaining a little confidence, "You probably got off on it or something."
A laugh escapes his lips, his breath visible in the cold air, "When did you get so talkative?"
I used to be quieter, less willing to talk back to people.
I was reserved and kept to myself as much as I could.
It wasn't even because I was that shy, I just didn't feel like wasting my energy on people most of the time - especially people like Nolan.
I let him say whatever shit he wanted to me, convinced myself he wasn't my problem.
"You don't know me," I mutter, crossing my arms, partially from the cold, partially in frustration.
"Maybe I don't know you now," His breath hitches, lowering slightly, "But I knew you better than anyone back then."
I hesitate. I spent a lot of time around him but only because of Riley, it's not as if we were friends or I spent time telling him my deepest, darkest secrets.
Most of the time he just spoke to me and I stayed quiet.
I'm sure he thinks he knows who I am but I am far removed from the teenage version of myself he interacted with.
"You don't even call me by my real name," I mutter, furrowing my brows lightly.
He's silent for a moment and I can see the thoughts running through his head. He runs his tongue across his top row of teeth, his lip rising upwards for a moment.
"You want me to call you Ava?" He states, voice serious, "I'll call you Ava then."
The sound of my name in his mouth makes me still.
I can't remember the last time I heard him say it, I definitely haven't heard it since his voice got deeper.
Something, somewhere in me plummets, whirring as I try to process anything that's happening.
What is happening? Why is he being so casual about this?
"What?" He says, reading my obviously startled expression, "You surprised I still remember it?"
Before I can reply we're interrupted by Riley who bounds over, shoving a tray of churros into my hands before taking a large bite out of her own. I realise then how hungry I am and reach over to take one myself.
"None for me?" Nolan scoffs, staring at his sister.
"I owe her one," Riley says before plastering a sarcastic smile on her face, "Plus, I've seen how much that apartment you're renting is, you can buy your own churros."
When everyone else makes it over me and Nolan are absorbed back into the group, dragged through the rest of the stalls.
As much as I try and focus on literally anything else he keeps snaking his way back into my thoughts.
It's not just his appearance, how much more mature he looks, It's the way he talks to me.
There's that same calculated edge and the smirk that comes with it but it's like he's talking to me for once, not at me.
He just called me by my real fucking name.I never thought I'd see the day where that happened.
Riley's comment is lodged in my head too, the one about his apartment.
What does he do? What career could he have possibly conjured up and be successful in during the time I haven't been around him.
I'm still struggling to see the boy who spent more time stoned and asleep than awake providing for himself.
We make a few more stops around the market, Kat buys some festive earrings and Cole gets his millionth beer, unlike everyone else he's not drinking at a Christmas-fair-acceptable level and will be completely out of it very soon.
I link arms with Riley who tells me about how much she wants to move out and stops every few minutes to take pictures of cute decorations.
After what feels like years we get to the very small number of attractions. A large ferris wheel dotted in lights and a very easy hay bail maze for kids, lazily turned festive with some spraying of fake snow. My eyes flick upwards, watching the carriages slowly spin round.
"Fuck yeah," Cole says, too loudly, "I love mazes."
He's even drunker than I thought he was, falling into Alex who holds him steady.
"I'll take him in the maze," He sighs, "He's basically a massive kid anyway."
"I want to go on the wheel," I say, probably one of my favourite things to do at places like this. I like being high up, seeing all the lights from above.
"I'll pass on that," Kat shrugs, "You know I'm not good with heights."
I nod, flicking my eyes to Riley who shakes her head with an uncomfortable look on her face, "Those churros aren't sitting right with me."
Oh. That little flutter of joy dampens in my stomach, eyes dragged away from the spinning wheel. It's not like there's a shortage of low-budget festivals in Ivefield but still I always look forward to it. It reminds me of the times I spent here with my mom as a kid.
"Never-mind then," I sigh, flashing a weak smile.
"No way," Riley shakes her head immediately, voice stern, "Nolan will go on with you, he likes that shit."
I glance beside me where Nolan is quiet, gaze on his sister for a moment before meeting my own. He stares, no smile but a still sense of intrigue filtered through furrowed brows and shiny eyes. The noises of squealing children filter away for a moment, muffled in my ears.
Of course. Out of anyone to be stuck in a slow, moving box with it's the guy I've been dreading seeing for six years.
The guy who has been surprisingly normal to me tonight and made me question any and all previous memories of him.
I can still see that twisted grin he used to flash as he saw me briefly passing through the hallways, the hazy look in his eyes as he'd stare at me.
I wonder again if that person is still somewhere in there.
I don't know if Nolan is going to object because Riley doesn't give him a chance to, placing her hands on both of us and shoving us in the opposite direction, "You're going Ava, I know how much you love those things."
It's silent for a moment longer.
"Come on then," He says, voice quieter as he looks at me.
We walk in a strange silence, like there's so much to say but seemingly nothing at all.
I can feel him beside him, his bigger build shrouding my smaller one.
He was always like that, strong, built with muscles I'd suspect - he got into fights, hung around with sketchy people, I'm sure being fit worked to his advantage.
Just like his height, it feels as if he's bigger and I can't tell if it's just a strange effect of time.
He probably still works out... I shouldn't be thinking about him working out.
Not that I was even thinking about it in a weird way.
.. because I wasn't. I shouldn't care about what he looks like - I don't care about him.
"Ladies first," His voice cuts through my internal panic, gesturing to the cold metal seats of the box.
I flash a small smile and walk in, slotting myself down.
He follows after me, the space tight so the side of his thigh brushes against mine.
Not exactly touching but I can feel the space of warmth between both of our jeans.
The closeness is weird, even stranger when he leans back and the side of his jacket rubs against my coat.
The man working the ride sends us up slowly and I glance at Nolan.
His face is shrouded in partial shadow as we move away from the lights, streaks of uneven darkness cross his eyes and tips of his hair.
I think I saw more of him in the dark than I ever did in the day, lurking in his room or coming back later than he should.
Whenever I slept over I'd wake up to the sound of his footsteps.
There's a strange sense of twisted nostalgia brewing in me and I can't tell if it's a good or bad thing. He still hasn't said anything, occasionally drifting his gaze across my face as his thigh moves closer to mine with every movement.
When the ride stops to let more people get on below us, he finally speaks.
"I want to take photos of you."
The statement makes me pause, his words even louder now the mechanical background noise of the ride is gone. I wonder if I even heard him correctly, my brain trying to comprehend his words.
He wants to take photos of me?
"I always knew you were a perv," I mumble back without thinking.
"As much as I'd love to jack off to photos of you, that's not what I meant."
His voice is sarcastic but the crude joke catches me off guard, making me turn my head quickly. I glare at him, judgement flashing through my face.
He scans my eyes, lips curving into a smirk, "I'm kidding."
I fucking hope so.
"I want to take them professionally, you know, portrait photography?" His voice immediately gains a more serious edge, "I'm trying to diversify my portfolio."
Diversify his portfolio? The dots slowly start to connect in my head, making his question towards me slightly less strange. It also begins to answer my previous questions about how he's affording that apartment.
"That's your job?" I say, surprise in my tone, "You're a photographer?"
"Riley didn't tell you?"
I shake my head.
It shouldn't make sense but it does. The only thing I ever saw Nolan passionate about was his camera, the one normal interest he had and the only thing that took him away from everything else.
He wanted to make films, would ramble about his far-fetched plot ideas sometimes if he was drunk enough.
He'd often try and take photos of me and Riley too, but we'd escape him before he could.
He loved that camera, more than anything.
"I've been doing it since college pretty much, thank fuck I was good enough to make a career out of it," He sighs, still staring at me, "I only do event photography at the moment but I want to start doing portraits too, it'll increase my clients and help me afford literally anything more than just my rent. "
The words seep into my brain. Event photography.Career. Clients.
"I need some basic shots for my portfolio," Nolan continues, "I need you to model for them."
It's clear the second part of his initial statement hadn't fully sunk in.
He wants to take photos of me? I don't like being in front of the camera at all, it always makes me feel awkward and I can't pose for shit.
He knows this, he used to flash the lens at me and watch as I'd freeze up.
"Why me?" I ask, struggling to understand anything he's saying.
I haven't seen him for years and now he wants me to pose in his photos? I scan the darkness over his face, dancing across the bridge of his nose and his messy hair. I can't read him, I can never tell what's going on inside his head.
"Why not you?" He taunts back.
I open my mouth to contest but he speaks again.
"I'll pay you."
If this didn't already sound weird already it definitely does now. He wants to give me money so he can take photos of me knowing I have terrible track record behind the camera, that and he could be asking literally anybody else.
Humour rests on my tongue, "I offer a high price for jerking off material, Winters."
"Funny," He narrows his eyes, "It's standard practice, you think I don't pay my models?"
I guess he would. But I'm not a model. I don't get why he's looking at me like he used to with that mischievous look in his eyes, his tongue absent-mindedly running behind the metal of his piercing. Why does he want me to do this?
And why can't I tell him how strange it is? I feel like my old self for a moment, the Ava who shut up and stayed quiet. My words pause in my throat, muddled before I can say them -Why is Nolan having this effect on me?
"Promise me you'll think about it, Birdie?" His voice murmurs as the ride starts moving again, lowering us to the ground.
I frown, "What happened to calling me Ava?"
He smirks.
"I tried it, it's not for me."
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