Chapter 51
fifty-one
Avalon
You haven’t seen him since she died?” Ember asks. We’re sitting on the floor in Brinley’s room with Brinley, Maia, and Tate.
“I drove him home from the hospital that day,” I reply. “But he asked me to give him space, and I needed to respect that.”
“Declan says he hasn’t been out of his room since you brought him home,” Brinley adds. “The guys are worried about him.”
“I am too,” I admit. “Elise asked me to look after him and I feel like I’m failing her.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Avalon. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Ember continues.
“Fletcher says he’s been drinking a lot,” Tate sighs. “He’s getting liquor by the handle and just sitting in his room and drinking.”
I hate this. I hate feeling like there’s nothing I can do for Zeke. I want to understand what he’s going through. I’ve lost two parents, but not in the way he has.
And I wasn’t close with them like he was with his mom. I feel like I won’t say the right things when I see him. If I’m being honest, I’m kind of relieved I haven’t seen him since his mom died for that reason.
“I don’t know how I’d react if I lost my mom,” Brinley responds. “I’d probably spiral myself. And Zeke, he’s taken care of her for years; it’s like he had a void he doesn’t know how to fill and—”
“Alcohol does that,” I cut her off.
“Exactly. When Zeke’s ready to open up, we’ll be there,” Ember says. “Until then, well, you have us, Avalon. You’re now one of the girls, so whatever you need us to do, we got you.”
“I just want to know if I should try to talk to him,” I mumble. “I want to respect the space he said he needed, but I don’t want him to lose himself in this sadness.”
“Sometimes people need to hit rock bottom before they realize they need help.” Maia shrugs.
“I feel like he’s already there,” I continue. “I saw Mr. Harris a couple days ago; he had something Mrs. Harris wanted me to have, and he told me he hasn’t seen Zeke either. He doesn’t even know if Zeke will attend her funeral.”
“He’ll show up,” Ember argues. “He wouldn’t miss his mom’s funeral.”
I wish I could agree. The Zeke I fell in love with would never miss his mom’s funeral, but he isn’t the same Zeke I fell in love with.
He’s a broken version of that Zeke.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I pick at the thread on my jeans, trying to conceal the need to cry.
I know exactly what Ember was talking about when she said these girls were the best. I’ve only known them for a little over a week, but I already feel a sense of security I’ve never felt with friends before.
The only person I’ve ever felt that with is Zeke.
“Yeah, it’s through that door.” Brinley points to the half-shut door behind us, and I get up, but when I try to push it open, it doesn’t budge.
“I know I’m weak, but I didn’t think I was that weak.”
“Oh,” she laughs, “sorry, I keep forgetting.”
The girls and I look at her with confusion.
“My lovely brother and Jax offered to help me move in that couch,” she points to a green loveseat on the wall across from us, “because I wanted some more seating and found it on the street. But Jax lost his balance as they moved it in, and Declan practically threw it at the door.”
“So, now the door doesn’t work?” Maia studies the door.
“Now the door doesn’t work,” she confirms. “They’re supposed to fix it, but it’s been over a week, and I keep getting locked in or out of my bathroom because it doesn’t shut properly.”
“How do I get it open?” I ask.
“Let me help you.” Brinley stands up, walks over, grabs the doorknob, and slams her body into the door repeatedly.
I can’t help but laugh.
Suddenly, I no longer needed to escape to the bathroom to cry.
Finally, it swings open.
“There you go.” She smiles.
“You’re something else, Brin.” Ember shakes with laughter. “You know that?”
“I’m curious, Brinley, why didn’t your boyfriend help you move the couch?” Tate squints at Brinley, crossing her arms.
“He had class, and I didn’t want to lose it because it was just on the side of the road,” she replies. “No other reason.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” I begin. “You and Jax dated, right? Zeke told me that never happened, but he’s wr—”
“Jaxon and I were never together.”
“I could’ve sworn you guys were,” I gasp. “When I saw the two of you at that party, it definitely looked flirty.”
“Oh, they were so flirty,” Ember adds. “She never believed me when I told her that, but if she wasn’t Declan’s little sister, he totally would’ve gone there.”
“Can we stop talking about Jax, please?” Brinley leans against the door frame. “I’m in a relationship now.”
“And completely avoiding Jax because of it.” Tate leans back on her hands.
“Did you not hear the part about the door being broken because of Jax?” Brinley plops down next to Ember. “Doesn’t sound like something that would’ve happened if I was avoiding him.”
“You guys are ridiculous.” Maia chuckles.
“I will say I haven’t seen you running on campus with Jaxon in months.” I point out.
“In all fairness, I was only running with him because I had feelings for him. Once that ended, I wasn’t going to continue suffering on those morning runs.” She laughs, grabbing the bag of pretzels from Ember and eating one.
“So, you’re over him?” I push, and she shrugs.
“I don’t think you ever get over your first love,” she replies. “But Alex, he’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
“And your happiness is all we care about.” Ember grabs Brinley’s hand. “That goes for all of you.”
“This conversation has made me realize there’s a lot to catch Avalon up on,” Brinley says. “If you’re gonna be one of the girls… we need to start from the beginning.”
I sit in the circle, the bathroom door still wide open, and learn all about the girls I now call my friends.
Something I thought I’d never have.
I’ve given him space, but Jaxon stopped me after class and told me how worried they were. I knew he hadn’t been leaving his room and drinking, but we all thought it would pass after a few days once he came to terms with everything.
But they’re all convinced that he won't go to her funeral if I don’t talk to him, but I know he won’t miss it.
His mom was his everything, and he won’t miss his last chance to say goodbye.
He loves her.
He’d never miss her funeral.
I know what it’s like to shut people out; it’s not what he needs. Even if he thinks he does.
“Hey,” I shove my hands in my jacket pockets as Declan opens the door, “he here?”
“Hey.” He moves out of the way to let me in. “He’s up in his room, but you already know that.”
“Do you think I could go up there and talk to him?”
“I don’t know if he’s up for talking.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But you could try. We’ve all tried, but—”
“If anyone can get through to him, it’s you,” Ember pushes herself off the couch. “Seeing you is exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t think it is.”
“Thanks guys.” I smile before taking the stairs up to his room.
I tap on the door but don’t expect him to open it. I use it as a way to tell him I’m coming in.
“I’m not hungry.” His voice is faint, and I know when I open the door, I’ll see his head sunk into his pillow, muffling his voice.
I open the door, and sure enough, he’s buried in his bed. He’s facing the wall and doesn’t know it’s me until he finally snaps up. He’s angry. I don’t think I’ve seen him mad like this.
“I said—” His eyes meet mine, and his voice drifts off. “What are you doing here?” His voice softens, but it’s still rough. He’s not the Zeke I know, not right now.
“I wanted to check up on you.”
“People usually text for that,” he replies. “That’s what phones are for.”
“This didn’t seem like something to discuss over the phone.”
He pulls his pillow to his chest and lets out a breath.
“It’s not something to talk about in person either,” he mumbles.
“I’m not going to ask you how you are because I already know the answer to that, but the guys were saying that you weren’t going to go to her funeral and—”
“I’m not,” he cuts me off.
“What?”
“I’m not.”
“Zeke.”
He shakes his head and laughs.
“Don’t Zeke, me. I’m not going.”
“Look, I know you’re hurting right now,” I move across the room and find myself next to him on his bed, “but she was your mom. She was your world.”
“And she’s gone. There’s no point in dwelling on it with a funeral.”
I reach for his hand and give it a light squeeze.
“Zeke, you have to go. You’ll regret it if you—”
Before I know it, I’m being pushed back onto his bed, and his lips are crashing over mine. His hands find their way up my shirt before I have time to comprehend what’s happening.
“Zeke.” I push against his chest as his lips travel down my neck. His hands explore my body as I press against him again. “Zeke.”
“What?” He pulls away.
I’m looking at the boy I fell in love with, but he’s not there. His mind is drowning in this person I don’t know, this person I don’t want to know. His eyes are distant and cold.
“I’m not here for that,” I respond.
“You said you wanted to be here for me, make me feel better,” he argues. “That’s what I want to feel better.”
“Drowning your pain in sex isn’t going to make you feel better. It’s not going to heal the pain in your heart; it’s going to bury it—”
“If it means not feeling it, that’s good enough for me.” His lips cover mine again. This time, I don’t just push him off; I move toward the other end of his room.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I need one thing from you right now. One fucking thing!”
I wince at his words. He’s hurting; I know he is, but I won’t let him take it out on me.
“You need to let us be here for you.” Tears burn my eyes. “We love you. Your friends, me, we want to help you, but you have to let us in.”
“I don’t need you here.”
“Zeke.”
“No.” His face twists with anger. “You knew her for what, two months? So, you don’t get to tell me how to cope. If I want to have sex, I will. If I want to drown myself in alcohol, I will.”
“I can’t do this again.” My words are shaky. “I won’t sit back and watch another person I love turn to alcohol as a way to deal with their pain. I lost my mom that way; I won’t sit around and slowly lose you. You can’t fix this pain with sex or alcohol, Zeke. And I won’t be the person you turn to—”
“Who said I was talking about with you?”
His words are like a punch to the gut, knocking me a step back.
“What?”
“Look, we had fun, but it would never work out. I’m not the type of guy who settles down with someone. This was fun, that’s all.”
“Fun?” I scoff. “But you called me your girlfriend. You told me you loved me, and what, all that meant nothing to you?”
“I lied.” He shrugs, a douchey smirk on his face. “The whole love thing, it isn’t me. I said what I needed to say to keep you around.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip, and within seconds, I taste blood. I won’t let Zeke see me cry. I won’t let him make me cry.
He stands up, crowding my bubble.
“Avalon, we both know this wasn’t gonna last. In a year, I’ll be heading to the NHL. I’ll have a world of women to choose from; why would I stay with you?”
And there it is, the final blow.
“Fuck you,” I whisper, the tears now being fueled by anger.
“You already have.” He smirks. “Multiple times.”
It’s like I don’t have control of my body as my hand swings across the air. The contact of Zeke’s skin against my hand burns.
He laughs.
He fucking laughs.
“Your mom would be ashamed of you.” I know it’s a low blow, but he deserves it.
I don’t care anymore that he’s hurting, that he lost the most important person in his life.
It doesn’t give him an excuse to be a self-righteous ass.
“Her death doesn’t give you the excuse to be an asshole, Zeke.
I get that you’re hurting, but that doesn’t mean you can say and do whatever the fuck you want.
She’d hate the guy standing in front of me.
But like you said, she’s dead; what does it matter, right? ”
I look him over once more. His smirk is gone. He’s watching me, waiting for my next move. My handprint slowly imprints its mark on his skin.
I take a breath before turning around, “Goodbye, Zeke.”
I slam the door behind me and don’t even stop to say goodbye to anyone else. As far as I’m concerned, these last five months never happened.
Zeke Harris is dead to me.