Chapter 12
Avery
Breakfast and a show
I slept like absolute garbage and I’m starting my day in a foul mood. My fight with Cas feels like one of those annoyingly catchy TikTok songs that gets stuck in your head. I lay in bed feeling dumbfounded, attempting to piece everything together.
My stomach grumbles, interrupting my internal crime-mapping of the emotions displayed on Cas’ face and the meaning behind them.
The shock of the cold floor startles me and jumpstarts my energy.
I quickly find my favorite pair of pink slippers that have since lost their fuzziness due to how ancient they are.
I haven’t had the heart to throw them out as they were my mom’s.
Wearing these old, dull, slightly rough slippers keeps me connected to her.
Despite their age, they are still intact and haven’t fallen apart.
My arms stretch above my head and I hear the slight pops of my body, waking up due to being stiff from sleep.
I need some coffee. Maybe it’ll have the answers to my many questions.
The sweet, savory smell of hazelnut consumes my kitchen. As I breathe in the nutty aroma, my mouth begins to anticipate the joy of a fresh cup of coffee.
Something about the silence of an early morning just does something for me.
I love listening to the birds chirp their morning hello while the trees dance softly in the wind.
Memories of my dad and I sitting on our porch come to the forefront of my mind, leaving me feeling heartsick.
Dad’s cup consisted of black, sludge-like coffee, whereas my mug had marshmallows with a splash of hot cocoa.
We spent hours sitting and watching the birds flutter between trees while discussing our day.
Tears prick behind my eyes and a sad smile stretches across my face.
Those were—and will always be—some of my favorite moments with my dad.
My moment of peace is rudely interrupted by the sharp, shrill sound of my phone ringing from the table where I tossed it moments earlier.
There’s only one person who would call so early.
I let out a sigh and hit the answer button without glancing to see who it was.
“Hi, Bri,” I say, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the counter while preparing my breakfast.
“Someone’s up early. Have some sexy dreams about a certain next-door neighbor?” she teases.
“More like tossing and turning, trying to figure out what happened yesterday. Our fight was like days ago, Bri. My head is spinning and I’m so confused.”
“Maybe it has nothing to do with you?” she asks.
“Who else would it be about, though? He saw my face for two seconds before stomping off. Did Max maybe say something to him to get him all upset?”
“Ugh, classic miscommunication trope. Figures. Max didn't say anything to me about it. He stayed over last night, so let me get him and you can ask him,” she responds.
“Miscommunication what? Wait, No, you do—" I start to say, but she already calls for him. The sound of muffled voices fills the background before I hear Max’s voice through the phone.
“Hey, hot stuff! Something going on with your man?” he asks.
Bri and Max are insufferable by themselves, but when they are together, their insufferability only amplifies. “You know he's not mine!” I shout.
“Sure, sure, but you want him to be. What did Mr. Boytoy do?” he asks.
“Did you say anything to him before I came to the door? When you left, Cas looked at me with a wounded expression before storming off.” I crossed my fingers and hoped he had the answer to Cas’s strange behavior.
“Nope, not really,” he replies, then recounts his entire exchange with Cas. Any hope for answers popped like a knife to an air mattress. Ugh, this puts me back at square one. Whatever crawled up his ass yesterday puts us back in the same cycle we’ve been in for years.
“Ave, are you still there?” Bri asks, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” I replied.
Bri chuckles. “You didn't hear what I said. I asked if you could talk to him about it. You two circle each other like a hawk stalking its prey. I don’t know what’s so complicated about all of this.
When you talk to him, you’ll get your answers.
Boom! Problem solved. Then y’all can finally hook up and end this will they or won’t they game,” she says.
“I’m not having sex with Cas, Bri. But I guess I could ask him about what happened yesterday. I mean, how else am I going to find out? This man is so locked up emotionally that I have to force it out of him sometimes.”
“Good, now go do it before you chicken out. I demand to know what happens. Oh, gotta go. Be bold, Avery. Max says bye, too, by the way. Oh wait, one more thing,” she says.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Have you looked into that songwriting competition? I think you could win, Ave. You have such a gift with words; the world needs to know.” Shit. I’m naive to think she would have forgotten the contest.
“Um, not yet, but I promise to look at it soon.” I’m glad she isn’t standing in front of me because my expression most likely screams liar.
“Okay, good. It’s such a fantastic opportunity for you. Okay, gotta go. Love you, bye,” she says before hanging up.
“Love you, too, Bri,” I say into the phone while shaking my head.
My stomach grumbles for the second time this morning, alerting me that I have yet to eat.
I don’t have the patience to make an elaborate meal.
So, it looks like it's a Greek yogurt and a bagel type of breakfast today.
As soon as everything is ready and plated, I grab my coffee and head outside.
I place my breakfast on the small, matte-black, round table between matching Adirondack chairs with yellow cushions.
I take a moment to inhale the crisp spring air, enjoying the serenity it brings before having to get ready for work.
It's still early morning, so the atmosphere is chilly and the dewdrops shimmer like diamonds across the grass in my front yard.
I close my eyes and focus on birds chirping and cars driving on the main roads.
My eyes are still closed and I’m enjoying my uninterrupted bliss when a high-pitched giggle startles me.
I decide to ignore it, knowing it’s probably one of the neighbors, and focus on the taste of coffee hitting my tongue.
Then it happens again, but this time, I hear someone grunt.
What the fuck? I think before opening my eyes to investigate what’s going on.
I look over to the house on my right, seeing nothing.
My body freezes as realization washes over me.
The sound is coming from Cas’ house. I find myself unable to resist the urge to look over, and that’s when I see Cas with some random girl.
My stomach feels like I have eaten something that has expired.
My throat thickens with emotion, seeing Cas with his hands on her ass and her legs wrapping around his waist. I can't see her face, but I know the type: long, blonde hair with curves for days under a tight red dress. I’ve time-traveled back to high school when he would hook up with girls similar to the one who’s tongue-fucking his throat.
Now, I get a front seat to a porno I never wanted to watch.
“Get a room!” I shout in their direction. I didn’t sign up for breakfast and a show. Their lips part and Cas looks in my direction, annoyed at the interruption. I can barely resist rolling my eyes when the blonde shoots a glare my way. Of course, she’s beautiful. She’s a man’s walking wet dream.
“Fuck off and mind your business!” she shouts.
“Hey, back off of her, okay?” Cas replies to her before forcefully removing her legs from around his waist and dropping her to the ground. She looks at him with a pouty, disappointed expression.
“It's my business when you’re going at it in front of the house. I'm trying to eat my breakfast and want to keep it in my stomach. Thank you very much,” I say, returning to my food.
When I thought this was all done, she struts toward my house. Oh, hell no. I do not want this bitch anywhere near my house. I stalk toward her, trying to keep her from stepping onto my property.
“Giselle, stop. Seriously, leave her alone,” Cas demands, trying to reach for her arm to pull her back, but he isn’t fast enough.
“No! This bitch thinks she can talk to me this way, so I'm going to give her a piece of my mind,” she says. Her eyes shoot daggers into mine. She sneers at me before continuing. “Don't come at me with this all high and mighty shit. It’s not my fault you can’t land a man like that, so don’t come at me with your petty, jealous bullshit,” she scoffs.
“Jealous? Honey, there’s nothing to be jealous about. I just don't want to see you two pawing at each other while I'm eating breakfast,” I say and turn around to make my way back to my house, already over this conversation and mentally thinking of ways to play human bowling with Cas and my car.
“Someone’s bitter they aren’t getting laid. Aw, but it’s not your fault you were born looking so…plain. You look like the type of girl to complain to Mom and Dad. Privileged little bitch,” she says.
I wince before turning around to face her again, tears stinging my eyes.
My parents’ death can be a touchy subject for me, but something tells me Giselle won’t care.
She takes one look at my state and starts laughing.
My face feels like I’ve spent too much time in the sun and embarrassment floods my body.
“Tears? God, how pathetic. Go on now. Run along to Mom and Dad. They’ll tell you how fucking special you are. You’ll never be able to please a man like I can, honey. Girls like you could never do what I do. When men want to be fucked properly, that’s when they come to me.” She smirks.
I shoot a brief look toward Cas before walking away. Of all people, Cas knows how much their death has taken its toll on me. Hell, he fucking knew them.
It took two steps before I heard Cas going off.
“That was uncalled for. You have no idea how special that woman is. She's a far better person than you’ll ever be. It's time for you to go. Now!” he yells. Well, at least he got one thing right this morning. I am special, but he sure as hell isn’t treating me like I am.
“Her? I mean, look at her. You seriously think a girl like her will do all the things we did last night?” Giselle’s tone screams TBS: toxic bitch syndrome.
“Get the fuck out of here. Oh, and lose my fucking number.” Those are the last words he says to her before he starts calling my name.