Twenty-Five
Sawyer
It’s the late evening after seeing Avory, and ever since I watched him walk away once more from the fire exit, my mind has been wanting to call out to him. Call out to him and try to understand why my mind didn’t ask him about us being more. I’m still coming to terms with this aspect of myself, the one in which I believed to have shut the door on years ago, in the exact manner my father shut the door on this family, but something feels so incredibly right about it when it’s associated with Avory.
He takes his rightful place in the forefront of my mind, and everything that weighs on my dainty frame until I’m far beneath the heel that forces me to carry that heavy burden, lifts away. Well, not entirely.
I arrive home beaming, practically skipping with every step I make, but my ridged fa?ade creeps back in as I see her sprawled out across the sofa. Her legs hang from the sofa arm and her knuckles brush against the hardwood floors. Her eyelids flitter yet remain closed, and the floor is littered once again with an array of glass bottles, varying in colours and shapes. I stare at a sight which has become all too familiar over the past few years, but for once in my life, the festering dread that fills my chest and rots my core, struggles to bring itself to the surface. It continues to fester, but it is weak. Instead, my chest continues to radiate a warmth and comfort which Avory planted, and I want it to flourish and bloom further until it’s the only emotion I can understand.
An unkept symphony of crashes and bangs resounds from the kitchen, causing my feet to leave the ground as I spin and face the kitchen door. Mother remains unbothered, shuffling in her sleep, tucking her hand into her body and smearing her days old makeup further with her palms. She turns herself away from the room, and me, as I carefully step towards the kitchen, opening the door with my foot and peering in before accepting my possible death right now since I have no chance at self-defence.
A tall, slim figure wonders mindlessly around the kitchen floor, cursing to themselves as they begin to pile up the collection of mismatched pots and pans which have tumbled from the cupboard. I open the door fully and enter, crouching down and helping the man to clean the mess he has made.
“Oh hey! You must be her son? I’m sorry, I wanted to make your mother some food, but it seems I have made a mess already, and I haven’t even started cooking yet!”
he chuckles with a deep yet grating tone.
I attempt a small smile to return his enthusiasm as we stack the remaining pots and pans on the counter.
“Yeah, these cupboards have never been organised. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time these cupboards were opened.”
The man, who’s brunette hair parts in the middle and curtains over his forehead, laughs again and pats my shoulder with far too much force. He clearly thinks I’m joking as he continues to smile long after my comment, his dark stubble encasing his grin.
“Well, with how busy your mum is with the café, I understand that she doesn’t have much time for your home, or for you.”
His hand leaves my shoulder and rubs down my bicep in some sort of way which, I’m sure, is meant to comfort me about another lie she has told. I nod along, wanting to grab my food and leave because I am not letting her ruin my mood, my absolute high which Avory created.
I will never allow her to ruin something which Avory created.
“Well, with your mum selling the café and all, you guys will finally have some time together. I know this amazing restaurant which—”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Crap. I didn’t mean to respond. I’m meant to just nod along like I always do, but that isn’t something you can just lie about. Is she selling the café? What purpose do I serve in her life if there is no café to force us together? I feel the shallowness of my breathing increasing with each inhale as my mind begins to spiral, that high I’m feeling begins to fade and sink into the lowest of lows.
“Excuse me, please.”
The man’s hand reaches out for my bicep again, but I recoil myself away, through the doorway, stumbling past her motionless body and up the stairs. I grip onto the banister, my knuckles turning pale until my body bashes into my bedroom door, the door bouncing into the same cracked wall and finally bursting through. The door handle wedges itself into the wall and I use every muscle in my arms to pull it free, revealing the hole which now frames itself with more cracks and dents. I shut my bedroom door with my back as I slide down the wooden frame, my knees tucking to my chest. I jerk my phone from my pocket, swiping the screen to a vacancy of messages. I open the message chat of the only person who I want, who I need right now.
Sawyer: Hey, are you free to talk? X
I never send kisses on the end of a messages; those are reserved for Gwen. However, with the sheer number of times I’ve kissed him, and he’s kissed me, I’m sure she won’t mind sharing. I imagine his lips pressing against my warm skin as I wait for his response.
I love how my entire body can fit onto one of the bamboo chairs at the café. With my knees hugging to my chest, I find myself staring into my mug of coffee which continues to swirl the fern leaf design into a creamy mess of caffeinated perfection. It’s the first thing I need this morning after a sleepless spiralling session of everything that could happen in my life. While most of it won’t, your mind can betray you into thinking the worst, and then the worst becomes the only option. What’s my worst-case scenario? I’ve never understood what a best-case scenario can be, but it seems Avory Bright could kick either into action.
Gwen’s knocking against the front door causes a shiver to spread across my entire body, forcing my mind to stop in its negative tracks. I untangle my limbs and rise from my chair, grabbing the front keys from my pocket and allowing Gwen not only into the café, but into the close quarters of how tangled my mind has become. I messaged Gwen at roughly two in the morning asking her to come to the café early if she was free, and here she stands, knowing something is wrong and often, she knows my mind better than I do. How we aren’t actual siblings, I’ll never know.
“Honey.”
Gwen is already sliding her slender body into the café before I even open the door fully. She shuts the door behind her and throws her arms around my shoulders, my arms wrapping around her tiny waist as her sweet, rose scented perfume drowns me in comfort and eases my chest. She pulls away as her hands rest on my shoulders, and her eyes follow the outline of my entire being, ending on her dark hazel eyes meeting mine.
“Sweetheart, you look like—”
“Shit?”
“I wasn’t going to say that! I’m sure my foundation can help with those eye bags, though.”
Gwen’s light laugh leaves her lips as I signal over to our usual window table, two coffees ready to fuel the most difficult conversation.
Gwen sits and swings her blonde waves over her shoulder as she sips. She’s drinking something similar to Avory’s usual order and it makes my words hitch in my throat, but somehow, Gwen just knows as she reaches for my hand.
“Sawyer, whatever is on your mind right now, I want you tell me. Please tell me anything and everything that you are comfortable with sharing.”
Her thumb rubs circles over the back of my hand, and as I sip my coffee in the hopes that it’ll help the dryness which has appeared in my throat, I speak. I’m croaky and my voice cracks on multiple occasions, but I speak nonetheless, and I tell her everything. From the very beginning. My entire story, and while she has heard most of this before, she still proceeds to listen. Her eyes jump between mine and the road outside to give me time without the attention, and I will forever be grateful for Gwen.
I haven’t stop speaking or crying for an hour. From my father leaving, to mine and my mother’s relationship nowadays, to meeting Avory fucking Bright and the emotion he stirred in my stomach the first time I saw him over that very counter.
That same counter which I’ve stood at every day of my life since I was sixteen-years-old and he’s the first person on the other side of that counter who makes me feel warmth, warmth that makes me realise how cold everything has been for far too long.
Now, that same café may be closing, and it is all I can focus on. These past few years of my life, I have known nothing else, but then Avory suddenly brought colour into my greyscale life with every touch, every word, every look which he gave me, and continues to give me. From the bamboo tables, to sitting on that amp, to kissing him in the rain and every moment since, to every time my fingertips graze his bare skin – I tell Gwen everything. If I lose this café, I lose Avory, and I lose any chance of having a mother.
“And now, for the first time in the entire time that I’ve known him, he read my message and that’s it.”
Gwen’s exhales are long and clearly thinking about her next words.
“Sawyer.”
My eyes meet hers as she lifts my chin with her pastel nails. It feels completely different when Avory does it.
“You are more than this café. You are more than a barista. You are more than Tracey fucking Sombre’s son. You are Sawyer, Sawyer Sombre who clearly has strong feelings for Avory Bright.”
“Gwen, I can’t go anywhere, I can’t see him without this café, I’m not ready to—”
“Sawyer, you don’t need to say goodbye, he’s not going anywhere yet.”
“Exactly! Yet! I am obsessed with every part of him, Gwen. Everything about him has put a shining fucking spotlight on my dark and miserable life which I created by liking men like him, but I couldn’t care less. I want him to bring everything into the light. I want him to make everything so bright it hurts because it hurts so good. One day, he’s going to take that light with him, and then what will I do? Just return to the same life I had before? Instead, I can’t and won’t because she is selling the café. The one chance I had remaining at having a loving family once more is going, and she is going to want nothing to do with me then.”
When did I rise from my seat? When did I begin pacing around with such heavy footsteps that my feet burn? When did my fingers tangle themselves in my curls?
Gwen pushes her seat back and she dashes towards me, her hands pulling my fingers free as she wraps her arms around me again. Her hand strokes my curls from my forehead as the other rubs circles on the small of my back. Again, this feels so different from when Avory does this.
My arms slowly snake their way around Gwen again as she holds me tight, whispering and shushing in my ear. My eyes well up, and there is nothing I can do except let them run.
Streams run down my face and my breath hitches in my throat as I slowly speak again, “Gwen, why did you let me do this? I can’t go back to hiding, but I can’t go back if I don’t hide.”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t let you do anything. I just supported you in what you clearly wanted to do. You wanted Avory, you just weren’t willing to let yourself have him yet.”
“You handed me the poster!”
“Okay, maybe I gave you a push, but you still did this on your own. You made the decision to accept his phone number, to meet him in his studio, to kiss him in the pouring rain, to accept his late visits here. You’ve wanted him the whole time, you just didn’t allow yourself to accept your own feelings.”
Gwen kisses my cheek, my tears lining her lips and her lip gloss marking my skin.
“You should’ve stopped me back then.”
“No, I should’ve locked you two in a room, and you would’ve gotten on with it a lot quicker! Even Xander agrees.”
I pull back and roll my eyes before releasing a breathy laugh. Is Gwen right? I have been slowly losing the tight grip I have on my true self over these past few months, and I haven’t felt so much emotion and warmth in so long, until Avory.
“Gwen, I can’t force him to stay in Tetherton his whole life. Not only that, but we can’t do this song and dance of sneaking around our whole lives. Marcus and Avory have their dream, and I can’t get in the way of that.”
Gwen’s smile grows wide as she listens to me questioning every part of her so-called plan.
“So, you’ve been thinking about a life with him, huh?”
She bites her lip, attempting to contain her giggle and failing miserably.
My lips refuse to part but she can tell by the smile that begins to curl that, maybe that thought has brushed past in my mind. Yes, I am fully aware that this is such an insane and forward thought to have, but all I know is that when I am with Avory, everything is okay. It doesn’t just seem okay, everything is okay. The way he makes me feel, I never want it to end, and I struggle to believe that this is an emotion which you feel because of any relationship. No, this is an emotion I feel because of Avory.
Gwen’s feet begin to bounce while her fists wiggle side to side by her chest. Her excitement is shortly interrupted when her trouser pocket begins to buzz. She pulls it out, her nails clicking against the glass screen.
“Crap! That man is useless! I asked Xander to watch my vanilla sponges while I came to see you and look what he did!”
Gwen, with her eyebrows scowling at her screen, turns the screen to face me and all that is displayed is a silver tin with a black, creased rock leaking over the sides of the tin. I’m now the one biting my lip to prevent myself from laughing because I am not ready to be clawed with those nails of hers.
“It’s fine! If he has no bread rolls to sell later though, it wasn’t me!”
Gwen winks before laughing and pulling me in for one last hug.
As I bury myself in her comfort once more, Gwen whispers, “Hun, you will be okay. You will be okay. Thank you for sharing everything with me today, and while I can’t decide what you do and what you don’t do, you need to put yourself first now.”
I nod into her shoulder because if I speak, I know I’ll cry again.