You've Wondered, Too? ♥ (Part 2 to You Never Know)

I pulled up to Avery’s house exactly fifteen minutes after I had left work. The entire drive I had wondered why she hadn’t come to Rejavanate today, and what she needed to talk to me about. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about it, especially considering what had been happening the past couple of weeks. 

I parked my Jeep in front of her house and slipped out of the driver’s seat, pausing a moment to look at the sky. The sun was now dipping low, and its fading rays were paired with streaks of pink that were starting to appear and paint the clouds, making them look like freshly spun cotton candy. It calmed my anxiety a bit, and I felt a sort of release as my shoulders dropped, and I took a deep breath. I walked up to Avery's driveway, noticing that Marie’s car was still gone. She must have stayed late at work, or was off running errands. I wasn’t sure. 

I stepped up to the front door, found the hidden key, unlocked the door, and entered the living room. I glanced at the sliding glass doors that led out to Avery’s backyard, feeling a hint of urgency to get out to her. I quickly closed and relocked the front door, crossed the room, and pulled the left door open. I stepped out into the spring evening, taking in the treehouse that had been my and Avery’s safe haven since we were kids. I padded across the grass, took a hold of the ladder, and began to climb up, gently rapping on the entryway before pushing open the small door. 

“Come in!” I heard Avery chirp as I opened the door, followed by a small fit of giggles. 

I found her curled up in a blanket in a corner of the treehouse, leaning against the wall that still held the tattered remains of our drawings and pictures from when we were kids. I noticed a bottle of wine beside her and felt a little shock of surprise in my heart. It was nearly empty, and by the looks of it, Avery had greatly enjoyed it. I swallowed nervously as Avery grinned, her smile dopey and loose, almost squiggly on her lips. She tried to stand up, stumbling a bit, and I scooted closer to catch her. The scent of the peach-colored wine was sweet on her breath, and she reached for me, groping in the air. I took her hand, gently squeezing it, easing her back down as I sat down beside her. Her red hair was messy, and she was in her pajamas: an oversized gray shirt and her koala bear printed pants. She looked at me with an almost dreamy expression, her smile still on her face.

“Ave, are…are you drunk?” I asked, a little bewildered. 

“Chase, your eyes,” she replied, ignoring my question. “They’re so beautiful, does anyone tell you that?”

I stared at her, a bit dumbfounded, as she reached out towards my face. 

“Ave, are you okay?” I tried a different approaching question, as she laid her fingers on my face.

“I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m just tipsy,” she giggled, and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly as her free hand explored my face, poking at my cheek. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re not soft anymore. You’re prickly,” she gasped.

“Well, I do have facial hair now, Ave,” I chuckled, letting her run her fingers back and forth over my cheek. 

She got an almost pouty look on her face.

“I miss when you were squishy and smooth. You used to have such chipmunk cheeks. Why aren’t we still like that, Chase?” she whined, suddenly looking genuinely sad. She gestured to the walls of the treehouse. “Weren’t we cute? We had so much fun. Everything…everything was so simple. I miss that,” she finished quietly, her hand falling away from my face into her lap and her eyes drooping down.

“I miss it, too, Ave,” I said, my heart suddenly feeling as if it were aching. My thoughts rewound back to earlier, when I had reminisced about us eating chocolate chip pancakes and plotting adventures when we were little. 

“You could fly, remember? You wanted to be a superhero. I was happy to just be your sidekick,” she said, almost as if she were talking to herself. She looked as if her mind was wandering off, sinking back into the past as she uttered those words.

“Hey, I never found out if I couldn’t fly at all. Maybe I can, I just gotta try some more,” I replied, trying to make a light joke to bring her back. “How much did you drink, Ave?”

She still looked as if she was deep in thought, drifting away. She didn’t respond to my question. She tugged at a corner of her blanket, fiddling with it as she suddenly looked up at me, her eyes alighting as she spoke.  

“Have you ever thought of kissing me, Chase?”

The question caught me off-guard, making my heart nearly stop in my chest. My brain reeled as the words tumbled about in my mind, my tongue feeling tied, though the answer came instantly.

Of course I had.

When we were little, I thought you kissed the people you loved, as in people you really cared about. I didn’t think kissing could lead anywhere. I thought it was its own action, like smiling or holding hands or sleeping next to someone, all disjointed and separate, never mixing. I never knew they could be a sequence: smiling at someone, eventually holding her hand, maybe even sharing a bed one day, kissing in the dark. It was all innocent to me when I was small. I remember even kissing Avery on the cheek once and her shrieking when I did, wiping the spot where my lips had been with the back of her hand. I had been so hurt, but now I realize my kiss must have been wet and sticky, as most little boys were. As I got older, I realized kissing was special, in that kisses were meant to be given to special people. Real kissing meant romance. My little peck of affection had no underlying motives. It wasn’t an open door that led anywhere else. In that instance, it was just to show her I cared about her. But as we grew up, my feelings changed as I learned more about the ways of the world, and what love meant.

I’ll admit that when Avery turned sixteen, I thought of truly kissing her then. She had grown so beautiful. Every time I saw her, I couldn’t help but feel blown away. I had almost been overcome with the urge the night of her sweet sixteen, when we were sharing a slice of dark chocolate cake on her living room couch and she had gotten a bit of frosting on her nose. I had gently swiped it away with my thumb as she had giggled a bit with embarrassment. She had always been a messy eater, as well as fast. In that moment, as her eyes lit up with her laughter and her cheeks glowed with a light pink, I couldn’t help but be in awe of her. Her simple beauty. Her gentle ways. Her. Avery. Within that brief moment of life, the sudden thought to lean in and kiss her chocolate-laced lips crossed my mind. I must have looked entranced, because she had gently waved her hand in front of my face, asking where Space Cadet Walker had gone. She had begun calling me that when we were little, when I dreamed of being an astronaut just so I could float among the stars. The nickname had eventually spread to Christina, who used it on me nearly all the time as I was still prone to daydreaming.

Now here she was again, this time tipsy on rosé wine instead of sober on dark chocolate cake, twenty-two instead of sixteen. Her sea-green eyes were sparkling with glee, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, not from the embarrassment of having frosting on her nose. And she still looked so gorgeous. So safe. So close. She was Ave to me still, but the little girl I had once known had morphed into someone I almost didn’t recognize. She had the smallest hint of mystery about her, though I swore I knew her like the back of my hand. It had never truly occurred to me that she had secrets too, private thoughts that she kept tucked away from anyone but herself, like leaves pressed in the pages of a book. She was her own, though she was my Ave. I could never imagine her belonging to anyone.

“Um, uh, er…” I stuttered, shaking myself out of my memory and honing back in on Avery’s question. “I…um…Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked, feeling jittery in giving her an answer, and a bit surprised at the sudden rush of feelings that flooded my heart.  

She tucked a strand of her hair behind her right ear and her dopey smile returned, her eyes suddenly looking droopy with sleep.

“You look so…shiny…” she mumbled, yawning. It was like she had suddenly forgotten the fact she had asked such a shocking question. 

“Shiny?” I asked, laughing out loud a little, feeling a bit relieved she wasn’t pressing me for an answer. 

She grinned toothily, her freckles crinkling with her smile. 

“Yeah, like…you’re shining. You’re so…bright…the lights?” she babbled, her eyes drooping more, pointing past me at the window of the treehouse, where the glimmering sunset was shining through the panes. “I don’t know…you look like you’re glowing,” she finished, looking back at me, a small smile on her face. 

I smiled back and rewrapped the blanket around her and pulled her in towards me, hugging her to my chest. She felt so small and warm, her breath growing deeper and longer.

“You tired, Ave?” I asked gently.

“No…I just…I feel…I don’t really know,” she giggled, her voice groggy and slow. “I think…I didn’t drink too much, I just…everything feels good,” she said. “You’re so warm…”

She snuggled in closer, her cheek pressed against my heartbeat.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, Ave, we gotta get you to your room,” I said, trying to sit her back up. She was all loose like her smile, not a care in the world weighing down on her as she was swept up in the pink cloud of tipsy drowsiness.

“It’s sooo far,” she whined, barely fighting as I scooted back towards the ladder, trying to pull her along with me. “I wanna stay here.”

“But it’ll be more comfortable in your bed and warmer,” I replied, trying to coax her to follow me.

“But you’re warm!” she protested, tugging on my hand to stay in the treehouse.

“But I’m not a bed,” I countered with a jesting tone, pulling right back on her.

“You could be. I could sleep on you,” she said airily, remaining on the floor in her blanket. She really wasn’t thinking too hard about what was coming out of her mouth, and I couldn’t help but be amazed at her newfound moxie.

“I don’t know if that’s…um…appropriate?” I said, my tone curling into a question mark as I searched for the right word.

“Who cares? We used to sleep together when we were kids,” she whined once more. “And we slept in my living room not too long ago, too.”

“Ave, we’re not little anymore. We can’t do the same things we used to,” I said, remaining by the ladder, watching her.

Within the split second after the words left my mouth, her face crumpled, and she began to cry. I froze, a little shocked by how her breezy mood had suddenly turned to heartfelt tears.

“I want it back,” she sobbed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “I want it back.”

She cried harder, and her hair fell down in front of her face as she lurched forward a bit, her hands braced against the wood floor.

“What do you want, Ave?” I asked, moving away from the ladder and back towards her, gently moving her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her shoulders.

“You,” she said through her tears.

I felt my heart stop again, skipping several beats.

“Me?”

“You.”

“What do you mean, Ave?”

She raised her head, her eyes turning blue with her tears.

“I want you back. Us. When we were kids. When we could do anything, or be anything. When…when it was all so easy. And I didn’t worry, and I didn’t bother you, and you were always here with me, and we could do whatever we wanted without having to worry if it was bad or wrong or weird. We didn’t care. Why do we care now? Why does everyone have to care so much?” she cried, her voice rising with each question. “Why can’t it just be innocent? I just…sometimes I want things I know I can’t have because it would ruin everything. It would ruin all we used to be if I said what I thought, or did what I wanted to.”

She looked bereaved, her face twisted in pain. She regarded me with sad eyes, her brow furrowed. 

“Is…is that why you asked if…if I ever thought about kissing you?” I asked hesitantly, my voice catching on the last few words. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to remind her she had asked that question. 

She looked mortified, but somehow also relieved.

“I…yeah,” she stammered, sounding as if her tongue were suddenly too big in her mouth. She shrugged helplessly, casting her gaze sideways, avoiding looking at me. “I…I sometimes just want to. I can’t help it. Kiss you, I mean. But, like, I just…I can’t. Not because of you, it’s…it’s just a place I never would want to cross. It could…ruin everything,” she finished quietly. “That’s why I just pretended I didn’t ask….I’m not that tipsy.” She glanced over at the bottle on the floor, the few swigs left sloshing as she pushed it away from her. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to answer anyway,” she whispered, her tone full of hurt. 

So she had noticed. I felt like an idiot. Nothing got past Avery, at least nothing I did. 

“Why would it ruin everything?” I asked, my heart pulsing with pain once more. I hated seeing her cry. I hated it even more that she was crying over how she felt towards me. Because of me.

She choked a bit on her tears, and she looked frenzied, retreating as much as she could into the blanket and back against the wall furthest from me. She settled a bit, almost panting. I could tell that the wine's rushing current of liquid courage carried her forward, even as she tried to hide. 

“What if I lost you? What if you died, too? Like my dad?” she asked, her voice small. “And what if I just want you as the big brother I always wanted, as my best friend in the whole world? Nothing more, nothing that could break my heart or be too much. I…I don’t know if that makes sense.” Her voice was trembling a bit.

“It does,” I replied quietly. “To be honest, Ave…I feel the same way.”

Her head jerked up, her eyes wild with a mix of fear, surprise, and a hint of her Avery-like joy.

“Really?” she breathed.

My heart was pounding.

“Yeah. And you’ve always been that to me, Ave. My best friend, my little sister. But I won’t lie that I sometimes wonder what it would be like for you to be…more. I think that’s natural, isn’t it? To wonder those things…to maybe not feel in love, but to wonder what it would be like?” My certainty shook a bit with the searching questions I had just uttered into the space between us.

“You don’t love me?”

I looked up at her face. She looked mildly horrified. 

“Ave, of course I love you. I mean…romantic love. We’re…not in love with each other. Right?”

“I mean…I think so,” she said. She still looked like I had slapped her. “I didn’t know what you felt.”

I took her in, her tipsy smile now faded into a lopsided grimace. There was still hurt showing in her eyes.

I took a deep breath.

“What do you feel?”

There was a brief pause. 

Her eyes glimmered with a fresh batch of tears. A couple slipped out and traversed their way down her cheeks. 

“In love with Chase Walker. But also trying so hard not to be.” 

I felt like I had been electrocuted, every nerve on fire. 

“Is that the wine talking?” I blurted, my tongue ahead of my mind, desperate to diffuse the look in her eyes, the heaviness that hung between us. 

She smiled, though it was a pained one. 

“I wish it was.”

That stung a little.

“I think you’re right though,” she whispered, shifting slightly. “It’s only natural to feel those things. To wonder about love, to feel a crush on your best friend. I couldn’t get what Jade said out of my head.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly wanting to hold her hand despite the fact I now felt like I had been stabbed on top of being electrocuted by her words. In love...but also trying so hard not to be.

“When she said guys and girls can’t just be friends. That it’s impossible. I mean, it’s possible, but…those feelings. Those little wonderings. I think they are always there, even if they aren’t consciously thought about by the two people. Everyone around them is always like, ‘you guys would make a cute couple,’ or ‘you two are so close, how can you just be friends?’ And I know everyone around you and me think that, Chase. Christina thinks it, Jade thinks it, everyone who knows how close you and I are, who have seen us when we’re together, they all think it. I think my mom wonders if we’re falling in love. I know that your mom told her she hoped we would be together one day.”

“What?” I asked once again, feeling like a broken record, my mind wheeling and skipping.

“One day I overheard our moms talking,” Avery said, toying with her hair. “Your mom was over at my house, and I was walking by the kitchen, and I heard your mom tell mine that she hoped you and I would start dating when we got older. That we would be perfect together, especially since we were practically already inseparable since we grew up together and were so close. That it would just make sense that Marie’s girl and Lucy’s boy would always be together. My mom laughed, and she agreed. And when I heard that, I couldn’t help but feel happy. I felt so safe and overjoyed, thinking that we would always be together, that even our moms thought we would be. To have you always by my side, it…it made me happier than anything ever has,” Avery said, her voice swirling with a tenderness that encircled my heart with peace. 

“But,” she continued, sighing deeply. “But then we got older. And I see how everyone looks at you, Chase. All of the girls fall for you, everyone likes you, you’re such a bright light to everyone. And me? I’m just…I’m just a dark little planet in orbit around you. People see me, but are taken by you. And I…I like that. I like that I can get away with always being with you, but still in the shadows. That people don’t hate me for being yours, and also that I don’t feel too much pressure to be yours. It’s true that our friends think we should be together and that we have feelings for each other, but it’s not pushed on us. We can just exist, you front and center and me off on the sidelines, and it just works. I can love you quietly, and you can get away from me when you need to. I just…like I said, I feel like I just bother you now.”

She gulped back a sob, shaking a little as she readjusted the blanket around her shoulders. I kept quiet and waited for her to continue. She took a breath and spoke.

“When we were kids, we bothered each other,” she said with a wistful smile. “We teased each other, we poked and pushed and pulled and got away with it. But now…it’s so much harder. I have real problems. I’m weak, but you’re strong. You’ve been through so much, too, and you’re so much better for it. You’re here helping me along, but I can only imagine how much pressure it puts on you. And it scares me every time you have to help me. It scares me that you see me differently and that you like me less and less. That you don’t see me as you did when we were little, but as some sort of pathetic girl who never truly grew up and is just nursing a crush on her best friend.”

She took another deep breath and her mouth twisted. She was rambling. She was nervous. I knew all of her little tics, and right now she was chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. Her anxiety was brewing. She opened her mouth to speak again, but I found myself putting my hand on her cheek, which caused her to pause, her eyes widening a bit at my touch.

“Ave, you’re not pathetic to me. You don’t bother me, you never have. Being your best friend since we were little is the best thing that ever happened to me. I…I didn’t know you felt that way. I mean, I felt…I’ve wondered, too. What it would be like to your boyfriend, to always be by your side in deeper ways, more than just being friends. I can’t lie and say I’ve never felt a different kind of love towards you. I just think I’ve never wanted to explore those feelings so I wouldn’t ruin what we’ve had, and what you have needed me to be. Someone who could be there for you without strings attached, someone who would listen and help you without you feeling I had to do that for you as your significant other. I’ve always chosen you, Ave.” My voice grew softer, and I put both of my hands on her cheeks, cradling her face, looking into her glowing eyes. “I only want to see you succeed, and get better, and be happy. I want the best for you, always. And... that’s a type of love, too. I’ve always loved you in some way, Ave. I know that to be true.” I felt that urge come over me again as I studied her face, my gaze falling to her slightly parted pink lips. 

She breathed lightly, almost like she was gasping for air and out of surprise. 

“You’ve wondered, too?” she whispered. “You’ve wondered about loving me?”

“Why is that so surprising to you?” I asked gently. 

“Because everyone loves you. All of the girls. You could easily have anyone that you want. I know Jade likes you,” she answered, looking embarrassed and almost ashamed. “So why would you choose me?”

My heart cracked a little as she backed her face out of my hands, looking down into her lap, growing small as she pulled in on herself. She shifted slightly, knocking the wine bottle with her leg. It rolled away and bumped against the wall. 

“I know what you’re saying. That just because two people have history, it doesn’t mean that they have to be in love…be a couple. And that, in your opinion,” I continued, waggling my eyebrows. “In your opinion, I could have any girl I want. But it’s not exactly a good thing anyway, to only be wanted because of how I look. I don’t even consider myself exceptionally good-looking, you know that?” I couldn’t help but stop and laugh. Avery watched me with surprise on her face as I laughed. I couldn’t believe I was saying all of this out loud. I lightly shook my head and switched topics. 

“Ave, what brought this all up?” I asked, picking up the wine bottle and gesturing to it. “This?” I teased, holding it up. 

Avery blushed before looking down and to the left. 

“No…everything that has happened lately did.”

“As in?”

“My birthday. Telling you about my plans...you staying the night,” she whispered. She scooted closer to me, abandoning the blanket behind her as she reciprocated my earlier gesture by taking my cheeks in her hands. I felt her breath on my face.

“I always believed it would be so easy to be yours, Chase,” she murmured. “That’s what I still think, especially now that I don’t want to kill myself anymore.” She shuddered, seemingly at her words more than at being cold, no longer enveloped in the blanket. She rose up on her knees, wrapping her arms behind my back and pulling me into her, lightly burying her face in my hair. I leaned my cheek against the base of her throat. I could feel the flutter of her heart, and I noticed the black tips of her butterfly tattoo poking out from her shirt collar. 

“Can I tell you something?” she murmured. Her breath stirred my hair, tickling my scalp. 

“Of course,” I said, my own voice sounding breathy and far away. She smelled so sweet.

“Like I said, I don’t want to kill myself anymore. So what do I live for now?”

She paused for a moment. I felt her chest rise as she took a deep breath, a breath for courage. She continued.

“I’ve thought a lot about that question. And I won’t lie, Chase, loving you seemed like an amazing answer.”

Once more, my heart caught in my chest. 

“Seemed like?” I whispered, gently ducking from under her and raising my head to look her in the eyes. 

My question hung unanswered in the air. 

A gentle silence washed over the treehouse. 

I felt my eyes widen in surprise. 

No other words came from Avery because her lips were on mine. 

(To be continued...)

♥

Image source: Chicchai Toki Kara Suki Dakedo by Haruki Saki