37. Avery
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Avery
“What do you want to do today?” I ask Lyla, trying my best to mask my sadness over this being our last day together.
I shovel another spoonful of cereal into my mouth, trying to focus on chewing rather than the way my heart is aching.
At the beginning of the summer, I would eat breakfast before making my over here. Lately, I’ve been finding myself eating most of my meals here, eager for any excuse to spend more time with all of them.
“Can we paint my room?” she asks.
I forcefully swallow, coughing a little. “You want to paint your room?”
She nods before spooning cereal into her own mouth.
“Do your uncles know about this?” I ask.
“No, but we’d have to go to the store anyway to get the paint.”
I think about it for a minute. Hell, if that’s what she wants to do on her last day, who am I to rain on her parade? I also don’t think the guys will care as long as it’s not neon yellow or something else migraine-inducing.
“What the heck? Let’s do it,” I say.
A huge smile spreads across her face. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re the best,” she squeals.
“No, you are,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as I walk into the kitchen to put my empty bowl in the dishwasher.
“Do you think we can get it done today?” she asks.
Her room isn’t that big. We’ll just need to move all her stuff into the hallway, but I think we can get it done.
“I think we can manage if we work together.”
“Good thing we make a good team,” she says, sliding her bowl beside mine on the rack.
She’s right. We do make a good team. Perfect, actually.
I almost want to laugh at the apprehension I felt at the beginning of the summer before meeting Lyla. I was worried she wouldn’t like me, or we wouldn’t get along.
Now I’m worried for a completely different reason. I have no idea how I’m going to go about my life without this feisty little ray of sunshine brightening my world each day.
The thought of not getting to see her grow and change through this coming school year and each one that follows makes me physically ill.
I take a deep breath, attempting to clear my head. I need to focus on today and just be present. I need to enjoy all these little moments because they’re all I’m going to get.
“So, what color are you thinking?” I ask, walking toward the front door.
“You want to do what?” Will asks. His eyes narrow in as they dart between Lyla and me.
Miles snorts out a laugh at his side. Owen stands on his other side with a barely veiled smile ghosting his lips.
When we went searching for them at the hardware store, we luckily found them all in the back room together.
“I want to paint my room,” she says. She stands up a little straighter, obviously changing tactics mid-argument. Even though it isn’t much of an argument, given the look on their faces. “I mean… Would it be okay if we painted my room?”
This makes Miles laugh even more. All three of them are smiling now.
“What color are these walls going to be now?” Owen asks.
Lyla does a little happy dance, seeing she’s won. Not that she had to worry about it.
She taps her index finger against her chin like she’s thinking about it for the first time and didn’t explain her whole thought process to me on the drive over.
“So, I guess I don’t really want to paint my entire room. I just want to paint one of the walls with chalkboard paint, so I have a big place to draw.”
Will nods, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go get your paint,” he tells her as they walk toward the paint aisle.
I fall in step between Miles and Owen, following the duo in front of us.
“You sure this is what you want to do on your last day with her?” Owen asks.
“I’d do anything she wanted to do. Well, maybe not anything,” I say, shaking my head. “If painting a wall so she can draw on it is what she wants to do, then I’ll be her faithful assistant all day until the job is done.”
Both brothers stop walking at the same time. “What’s wrong?” I ask, turning around to face them.
They’re staring at me with a soft intensity that sends a wave of warmth through me.
“Thank you for being so good to her,” Owen says.
Oh… I didn’t think that was what he was going to say.
“Of course,” I say, slightly surprised because how else would I be? She’s hands-down the coolest kid I’ve ever been around and one of my favorite people in the whole world.
It was never a question in my mind what I would do for her.
“You’ve helped her this summer, even if you haven’t realized it,” Miles says.
I blink several times, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I think she helped me, too,” I say quietly, then shake my head. “No, I know she did.”
Try as I might, I can’t keep a few tears from escaping.
“Fuck,” Owen mutters before using his thumbs to wipe the tears away. He kisses my forehead.
My eyes scan around, but Will and Lyla are long gone.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Miles says.
I give them both a small smile. “Sometimes crying isn’t a bad thing. It just means you love someone enough to know you’re going to miss them, and I do love that little girl.”
They both nod, knowing I mean it.
“Let’s go get all the other stuff you guys will need, while they get the paint,” Owen says. His hand goes to the base of my spine as he guides me toward the aisle where we need to go.
I can’t help but laugh when Lyla comes into view. She’s talking a million miles a minute to the guy who’s mixing up our paint we will be using. He looks rather confused, trying to keep up with her excited chatter.
Will is standing beside her with nothing but pride and unconditional love in his gaze—and when he turns to look at me, the emotion in his eyes stays exactly the same.
“I love it,” Lyla screeches. We are sitting on her plastic-covered carpet, staring up at the wall we labored over for the last few hours.
I say labored, but it wasn’t work at all. My cheeks hurt from how much I laughed. I’m in desperate need of a shower because I’m pretty sure more places on my body are covered in paint than not.
The gleam in her eyes as she stares up at the black wall is all the confirmation I need to know it was well worth it.
“You are going to make some masterpieces on there,” I tell her. “I’m bummed I won’t get to see any of them.”
She looks down at her lap. “I guess I could have my uncles send you pictures.”
“I would love that,” I say, clinging to any hope of being a part of their lives, even if it’s in the smallest of ways.
She sags against my side, head resting on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to leave you, either,” I say, letting my cheek fall against the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’m going to miss you, too.” She’s quiet for a minute, then adds, “My uncles will, too.”
My whole body suddenly feels uncomfortable, like I can’t exist in my own skin. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to navigate this.
I go with the truth. “I’m going to miss all of you so, so much.”
Those words alone don’t seem like enough to encompass the ache that’s already seeping through every crevice of my heart, so I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly against me.