Fourteen
Avory
I just kissed Sawyer Sombre.
The rain has become wintry, which is funny considering autumn is just getting close to knocking on Tetherton's door, yet no amount of cold could win a war against the warmth which Sawyer has left lingering on my lips.
That same heat melts across my face, it begins to drip down my neck and across my chest and eventually into the place I was hoping to avoid. A strategic shuffle of my waistband will sort that out… for now. How has one kiss with one guy caused this? No. Sawyer isn't just a guy and that wasn't just a kiss.
Sawyer is beautiful, in so many ways, and my chest will continue to scream out about this until everyone in this goddamn town knows. I have never felt this sensation for anyone.
The freedom and experiences that I have endured, solely because of Marcus, are indescribable. We meet crowds full of faces and personalities, we visit a catalogue of locations, we create memories which I'll forever hold tight to my chest and as close to my heart as I can get them, yet there's one experience I've never had.
It smacked me hard across the face when my lips left Sawyer's, when our hands were interlocked and fitting flawlessly, when his hand swept the strands out of my face and lingered on the back of my neck. Nothing and no one has ever grounded me.
Everything I've ever done has been filled with excitement, the thrill of the unexpected, a fast-paced life which never really stops. It never stops for any of our shows, it never stops for the countless amounts of fooling around with someone in a pub for an evening, and I never thought it could stop.
Yet, it stops for Sawyer.
Time stops, everything stops with him and for the first time, I want to remember this guy's name. I want to learn about every minuscule thing that makes Sawyer Sombre, and I want to memorise it to the extent that if you test me, I could ace every question.
I don't want this kiss to be our only one, I want a million and one kisses with this man. A million and one kisses means we'll need quite a bit of time together.
Another new feeling – I want him to stick around, and I want to stick around for him.
The rain begins to pelt against my already soaked hood, distracting me from the overwhelming introduction of everything I’m feeling, and acting as a reminder that I need to get home. If I get ill, then I can't get us that delicious coffee from my—that delicious man.
A puddle starts to form under me as I rip my boots off at the front door. I pull my hoodie off and throw it over one of the bar stools in an attempt to dry it.
“Goddamn Avory, did you swim home?”
Marcus’ head peers over the sofa cushions, his large feet hanging off the opposite arm. His computer balances on his lap as I am given the very rare sighting of his reading glasses. They have a thick, black rim around the entirety of the lens’ which digs into the bridge of his nose – as he constantly reminds me.
His glasses are the complete opposite of Sawyer's. Those freckles of his dot all over mind in the same fashion they do on Sawyer's face. I can’t wait, I shoot over a text.
Avory: Hey, you.
“Come sit, I've got something to tell you.”
Marcus’ tone invades my thoughts of Sawyer and everything that has just happened, however it didn't have its usual jovial and warm tone to it. No, it’s still warm and welcoming but I can sense that something is about to be discussed. Something which Marcus probably doesn't want to bring up and something I probably don't want to hear about right now.
I don't want to come down from this Sombre high, but this is going to drag me right back down to the ground and into reality.
I drop my behind over Marcus’ leg and into the small gap between him and the arm of the sofa. I kick my legs out and dangle them over Marcus’. He takes a deep breath and exhales as he rubs the bridge of his nose once again.
“A… It's your dad.”
“I suspected as much. Your glasses have come out and that only happens when something serious is going on.”
Marcus smiles and keeps his laugh to a low hum. His hand extends past his computer and rests on my knee.
“You know that I don't think glasses would go with my usual fashion. My brother, your dad, has reached out. He emailed me the other day and I've only just got around to reading it. He asked me to read it to you, but if you'd prefer to read it yourself, or not at all, then that's okay. You know best how you can heal.”
He always asks Marcus to read out his emails. It's like he's hoping that a glimpse of him will shine through his brother since they are so similar and make it hurt more.
“I'd like to read it, please.”
Marcus nods as he hands over the laptop, the screen full of text which is already seeming to blur into one. The last email from Chris was six months ago, his emails becoming increasingly distant over the years since I never reply.
I blink my eyes wide as the words are going into my head, but nothing is being understood. I reach the end of the email, and the only thing that seems to stick is the ending:
Avory, I promise I am trying to get better. I would like to see the amazing man you have become.
Dad x
I skim the entire piece again. This time, various parts stick to my brain, yet none of it means much, if anything, to me.
We are and have been both struggling with mum’s passing, yet his only focus has always been whatever makes it easier for him, not on the child who is now a fully grown man, thriving because of his uncle’s care. I never let myself speak about it or even think about it for that matter.
My head falls back on the sofa cushions and my eyes flutter closed. I was young at the time, but any memories that I could remember try to push forward, front and centre, and play themselves in my mind like a movie screen and I'm stuck in the best seat in the house.
Damn, I need to write that down.
The movie begins to blur as my mind pulls my focus elsewhere, back to him and those damn lips pressed against mine.
“How do you feel, bud? You okay?”
I drag my head back up and meet Marcus' dark eyes, his five o'clock shadow already kicking in from his shave this morning. These emails always send me into spirals, but this is the first time where I feel like I can shrug it off.
“Yeah, I'm okay. When did you last speak to Chris?”
Marcus pulls his legs from underneath me and swivels himself around, planting his feet on the floor. He cracks his neck as he stands up, leaving his glasses on the table and making his way to the kitchen. I follow closely behind him.
“Other than these emails for you? Your sixteenth birthday. He kept calling me, begging me to put you on the phone but I couldn't. I told him that you are old enough to make these decisions. I may be your guardian, per se, but I have no right to parent you. I just need to keep you alive, and I've done an alright job.”
Marcus winks as he lifts the mug of coffee he has made and sips, slurping it slightly.
“Thank you, Marcus. For everything. Always.”
Marcus comes around the island, places his mug down and wraps his big arms around me. I feel my eyes beginning to well up for Marcus, but I squeeze them shut in the hopes he won't notice – he'd never let me forget it.
“You're my blood, Avory. I'm never going to let anything happen to you. I know that Chris was going through some shit when everything happened to you guys, but addiction is a bitch. It is a monster which thrives on hurting those suffering and those surrounding the suffering. We all tried to help him, to support him but if there’s no want or even a thought of wanting to get better, then sometimes you need to let go, at least for now.”
Marcus strokes the back of my head once as he pulls away, his hands resting on my shoulders in their usual fashion, as he continues, “You know though, that if anything ever changes, and you did want to see him, then we could go together. Publicly, daylight, coffee shop. Anything that would help you, okay?”
I nod as I can’t guarantee that my voice won’t tremble right now.
Marcus smiles as he pats my shoulder twice and reaches back for his mug. I feel like I leap out of my skin as my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Sawyer: Hey! Did you get home okay?
Avory: Yes, thank you, and not ill! You better not be either ;)
“Avory Bright, texting, and smiling down at his screen. Do tell!”
Marcus giggles to himself as he slurps his drink again.
I begin to back up and rest myself on the back of the sofa. “Ha, you see it's really funny, Marcus Matthew Bright because—”
My hand trails slowly down the sofa cushion as I speak.
I grip the corner of the fabric and launch it across the room, the cushion hitting Marcus square in the face. The cushion drops on the island and reveals Marcus’ exaggerated shocked expression as his hand clutches to his chest.
“This isn't over my boy; I will get to the bottom of this!”
Marcus and I release deep belly laughs as I make my way to my room. The door clicks behind me, and my hand is digging for my phone once again. I'm sure I’m feeling another vibration.
Sawyer: I'm already cooped up in my room and in bed, I'm fine!
My mind is swimming with ideas of what Sawyer's bedroom looks like; how he sleeps, what he sleeps in, if he sleeps in anything. This boy has turned me obsessive.
Avory: Already?! It's only just gone seven!
Sawyer: Ah, well it all ties into what I need to talk to you about.
With everything he keeps linking back to this ‘conversation that needs to be had’, I become more and more confused.
I follow in Sawyer's footsteps and begin to undress for bed. Everything is once again piling up in front of the mirror, and the joggers are on. I stand myself up in front of the mirror, and the temptation to pull out the camera on my phone and snap a photo of my figure for Sawyer grows.
I roll my eyes at myself and remind myself that this, whatever we are, isn't some hookup. This boy is something else. My phone goes again.
Shit, I never replied to his message.
I sit myself on the side of the bed as I unlock it with my thumb. It's a photo of him. He's lying in bed on his side, the duvet pulled right up to his nose and around his head. It seems like he's taken the photo on his side table or something, but that's the last thing I'm focusing on.
He's not wearing his glasses, so his freckles sparkle along his tanned skin as his forest eyes shine bright, just begging to be explored. I can’t stop staring at his untamed curls being pushed forward and the empty space behind him, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I'd kill to have my arms wrapped around him from behind and my body pressed against his.
I wouldn't mind being behind him for other reas— AVORY, STOP! Great, now I've got a problem which these joggers make very obvious.
I struggle with what to reply to Sawyer because I physically cannot put into words how beautiful he is and how he makes me feel.
Instead, I stand facing the mirror and twist my hips enough so the dark tent I've got pitched isn't noticeable. This causes me to snap a photo of my toned back and my head turned to face the mirror. It definitely isn't a bad photo, but I stop hesitating and hit send. Within moments, I receive three yellow faces with pink hearts for eyes. Another message pops up shortly after:
Sawyer: Huh, you definitely hide all of that under your baggy clothes!
I laugh to myself since he hasn't seen the front yet. Yet? I shake off the thoughts as another messages pings up on my screen.
Sawyer: Gwen, I can't do this! I can't lead him on, what if she finds out? I'm too fucked for him. I need to cut this off!
Well, that isn't meant for me.