25. Ava
AVA
Two days until OA Con
Regret hits within the first few miles. I probably should have stayed and talked to Declan. Asked him if he was planning to tell me about Dad. I know the workshop is important to him, but surely he wouldn’t lie about something that big. Would he?
I never thought Dad would lie either.
I hate myself for even thinking it. I want to believe Declan is different, but the doubts creep in, casting their shadows over everything I hold dear.
I try to ignore them, focusing my attention on Tyler instead.
“So, are we headed somewhere in particular, or just wandering around until lightning strikes?”
“I have a place in mind, buuuuut it doesn’t open until noon.” Tyler shoots me an apologetic grin. “Which didn’t occur to me until we were already underway. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m the one having panic attacks in the parking lot. You’re just trying to help out a friend. Which, I really do appreciate, by the way. I hope this doesn’t get you into too much trouble with Coach Adams.”
“No worries. I haven’t missed a day all season. The worst that’ll happen is I’ll have to run a few extra laps. It’s all good.”
“You’re sure?”
“Completely.”
“Well, all right then. If we’re stalling for time, I have a few ideas. The first and foremost involving coffee.”
Tyler grins. “Starbucks it is.” He flicks on the radio and turns the volume up on Blink 182’s “What’s My Age Again?” As fitting a soundtrack for our intended purposes as anything. I close my eyes, letting the music carry me away.
After we hit up the nearest Starbucks for fancy coffee and baked goods, I have him drive us out to Kelsey Creek Farm in Bellevue.
We meander down the trails, taking extended breaks to simply lean against the corral fences and watch the animals.
It’s so peaceful that even Tyler seems lulled into a quiet mindfulness.
Or maybe he’s just giving me a chance to breathe. Either way, I’m grateful.
He’s a deeper soul than I give him credit for.
Shortly after eleven, we pile back into Tyler’s Jeep and head down 405 South to Tukwila. When we pull into the Family Fun Center, all I can do is shake my head and grin. “Seriously? This is your big idea?”
“Heck yeah.” Tyler grabs a pair of aviator sunglasses from the center console and puts them on, eyebrows wagging. “Nothing takes away stress like a few laps around the go-kart track.”
I stare out at the beige-colored building with its old-school Rocky and Bullwinkle motif. “Is there laser tag?”
“Oh, there’s laser tag.” Tyler lifts his shades with a smirk. “If you think you can handle it.”
“I think I can manage.” I smirk right back at him, but there’s a hollow ache in my chest when I think how much fun it would be if Declan was here with us.
I glance down at my book bag, where my cell phone has been tucked away all morning.
Biting my lip, I add, “Just give me a minute first? I’ll meet you inside. ”
“You got it, Aimes.” He swings his door open, then pauses halfway out of the car.
“Oh, and make sure Declan knows I’m not putting the moves on his girl, would ya?
Dude can hit a pretty mean serve. I’d hate to see what he’s capable of ticked off.
” He closes the door with a mock shudder, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his wake.
It buoys me while I dig out my phone and open my texts. There’s a new one from Stasia, another from Hiro. None from Declan.
The doubts inch deeper, feeding my greatest fears. He’s just like Dad. They all are. Only caring about themselves. Never about me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, give myself a mental slap. Stop it. I’m sure there’s a good reason he hasn’t texted. I take a deep breath, open my other messages.
Stasia: Girl, where the heck are you? I’m starting to freak out over here.
Whoops. I guess I did kind of take off without telling anyone. I shoot a quick text letting her know where I am before opening Hiro’s.
Hiro: I am so SO sorry. I was trying to honor some kind of bro-code, but as Stasia has graciously pointed out, that’s dumb. Just so you know, Declan did not ask me to say that, it was all me. And I know for a fact he was planning to talk to you about your dad. So please don’t hate him, kay?
While I’m not thrilled about the lie, I can understand taking extreme lengths to protect the people you care about.
Me: I suppose I can forgive you. This time.
I don’t mention Declan, since I have yet to hear from him myself. I want to believe he was going to do the right thing, though, so after a moment of hesitation, I send him a text as well.
Me: Tell me the truth, and I promise I’ll believe you. Were you going to tell me about my dad, even if it meant losing the workshop?
When there’s no response, I check the time—a little after twelve. Which means he should be at lunch in the cafeteria. With full access to his phone. I wait a little longer, watching for those little three dots. When they fail to appear, I resign my phone to my pocket with a sigh and head inside.
Yeah.
Definitely gonna need some laser tag therapy.
We play around for a solid two hours, going from laser tag to the go-karts to the arcade.
Tyler tries to get me to go on the bumper boats, but I draw the line at getting hit by water guns from every angle.
So we grab slushies and camp out at the picnic tables instead, dying our tongues neon blue with the sugar-filled concoction.
I shiver, my thin sweater warm enough for the spring sunshine but not for a stomach full of ice. I set my plastic cup down with a sigh and rub my arms.
“Hits hard, doesn’t it?” Tyler says, popping the top off his own drink and chugging down the remainder.
He finishes with an exaggerated shiver of his own.
“Flippin’ frigid.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Looks off to the side, at me, then off to the side again.
I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when he speaks up, his voice unusually serious.
“So. You wanna talk about the parking lot?”
No. Yes. Both.
I shake my head. “I’m not even sure where I’d begin.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“The beginning, huh?” I give him a small smile. “We’re talking five years of baggage over here.”
Tyler shrugs, clasping his hands behind his head. “I’ve got time.”
He seems sincere, and I’m tired to death of keeping it all in.
So I let the story spill out in all its gritty details, holding nothing back.
Tyler listens quietly until the end, and I slump forward with relief when I finally finish, a shaky laugh slipping from my lips. “Which brings us back to ‘Do.’”
Tyler hums a soft chuckle.
Silence settles around us, and I breathe freely for what feels like the first time all day.
It feels unbelievably good to lay it all out. Cathartic, really.
After a moment, Tyler speaks up, breaking the silence.
“My dad left when I was seven months old. Got sick of all the crying and diaper changes, I guess. They were really putting a strain on his budding music career.” He lets out a rueful chuckle.
“Pretty sure he works retail now, so I guess ditching us didn’t help. ”
I frown and reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, moving his hand away as he runs them both through his hair instead.
“It’s fine. His parents—my grandparents—were actually pretty great.
Totally stepped up and helped my mom in all the areas their idiot son failed to.
Grandpa Jack was the one who taught me how to play lacrosse.
Comes to all my games. They’re awesome.”
I give him a small smile. “They sound awesome.”
“Anyway, my dad doesn’t so much as send a birthday card for, like, fifteen years, then he shows up out of the blue when I turn sixteen and is all, ‘I’ve changed. Give me another chance to be your dad.’ Etcetera, etcetera.” He rolls his eyes. “Classic mid-life crisis bullcrap.”
I roll the slushy cup between my palms. “What’d you do?”
“Told him to go to hell. Grandpa Jack was all the dad I needed, and at that point in my life, I really didn’t need another.”
“So you guys still don’t talk at all?”
“Nope.”
I bite my lip, thinking of my own dad. “Do you ever regret it? Not giving him another chance?”
“Honestly? No. I don’t.” He crumples his empty cup, aims, and chucks it into the trash can across the lot like it’s the easiest thing ever.
“Will I someday? Maybe. But that’s the thing though.
There’s no set answer, no right or wrong action to take.
You and I both have lousy dads who walked out on us, but our circumstances are also completely different.
We’re completely different. So just because I didn’t want to give my deadbeat dad a second chance to mess up my life, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t talk to yours.
But also, it’s okay if you don’t. You just gotta do whatever feels right down here.
” He slaps his stomach and grins. “Declan, though, you should definitely talk to. He’s a pretty cool little band geek. ”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Declan is not little, you’re just freakishly large.”
“I kind of am, aren’t I?” He flexes his arm. “Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.”
I cover my face with my hands as I let out a laughing groan. “You are such a dork.”
“You love it,” he jokes. “My amazing body aside, now that I’ve finished foisting all my unsolicited advice on you, I do have a bit of a favor to ask. About prom. And totally feel free to say no.”
I let my hands fall back into my lap, curiosity piqued. “I’m pretty sure I owe you about twenty favors. What’s up?”
A hint of red creeps into his cheeks, and my jaw just about scrapes the picnic table. Never have I seen this boy blush before. Now I’m really curious.
He clears his throat. “Well, you see…”
Tyler drops me off in front of my house an hour before I would usually be getting home, and I know something’s off the minute I see Mom’s car in the driveway. She’s almost never home this early on a Thursday.
Her face when I walk into the kitchen seals my doom.
She is pissed.
“Skipping school, Ava? Are you kidding me?”
I slink over to the table where she’s sitting and slump down into the opposite chair. “I’m sorry, I just needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t mean to worry you.” My brows furrow, and I check my text and call history. No missed messages from home. So, clearly not too worried then.
Mom sighs. “This is about your dad trying to barge his way in this weekend, isn’t it? Typical Archer. Never thinking how his actions affect those around him. But don’t worry—I will not let him ruin prom for you.”
Prom is literally the least of my worries.
Especially now, given the favor Tyler asked of me.
One I was more than happy to grant. But in a way, she’s right.
I am worried about how his actions will affect Mom.
And if I’m honest, I’m not too thrilled with them myself.
But prom isn’t the problem. It’s OA Con, and all the memories that come with it.
I want so badly to reclaim this experience that once brought me immeasurable amounts of joy, but how can I possibly do that when I can’t seem to let go of the past?
Something has to give.
I need to—
“Your father aside, you can’t just go skipping school for an entire day like that,” Mom barrels on, dousing the tiny spark of courage I’ve managed to build.
“Especially without calling to check in. I mean, how hard is it to shoot your mother a text saying where you are? You know the school is going to contact me, so it’s not like you had a chance of getting away with it.
I mean, let’s face it, Ava. You’re no Ferris Bueller. ”
“Who?”
“Never mind. The point is, you chose poorly, and actions have consequences. You’re grounded for the rest of the day. Meaning no phone, no TV, nothing. Just homework and room time.” She holds out her hand, face expectant. “Pass over the cell. You can have it back in the morning.”
My stomach sinks. I have yet to hear back from Declan. “Can I make one quick call first?”
Her lips thin into a firm line. “That’s not how punishments work, Ava. Now hand it over.”
Awesome. Now I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out if Declan replies. I give Mom the phone without another word, any urge to talk things over with her wilting away.
I’m too upset to bother.