Wrong Quarterback | ✓

36 | of best friends and boyfriends

           Without their outdoor seatings, the streets seem bare. This time of the year – without the clinking of glasses, without the loud chatter carrying through the air, without families and groups of friends alike wrapping up their days underneath the setting sun – they're too wide, too quiet. Even more so on this cold day.

Despite wearing the headband Callie once knitted for her, there's a pounding to Avery's eardrums as she flies down the street, the soles of her runner shoes lightly slapping the pavement.

It's been three weeks since Robert left town and she hasn't heard from him since. Not that she's been expecting her father to be in touch. Robert won't come crawling for her forgiveness. He probably doesn't even consider there to be anything for her to forgive.

Swift in her step, she whirls through the south side of the park. The trees lining the gravel path are merely a blur of bare branches in her vision before her feet touch against pavement again. Her heart thunders, warmth flushing her skin from the inside out.

Her days in Colorado were the same as every year. Fun, freeing, a time to take a break from everything else. A much needed break this time around.

Another row of houses, the soft colors of their facades melting into the clear light blue winter sky, passes her by as she steers her steps out of the city centre and toward the ice hall.

It had been nice, right, to spend some uninterrupted days with the people she loves – her mother, Tammy, Harold, Caia, Benjamin. And Luke.

Spending Christmas Day the way they have for over a decade now. Spending a week in the mountains. Walks in snowy landscapes, too many people crowding the kitchen at once while cooking dinner together, nights in front of the TV accompanied by bowls filled to the brim with popcorn. Blankets drawn over their legs and movies they've all seen before playing on the screen. Time to read her books. Hitting the slopes with her mother. Or with Caia. Or Luke. Or everyone. Once again, far too many people crowding one space.

The seven of them taking up an entire corner of one of the quaint town restaurants, their chatter far too loud in the room, too many branches of conversation carried at once.

And, a new favorite pastime of Avery's, spending her days making fun of Luke. More accurately – Caia and her making fun of Luke for being glued to his phone. Or rather, being glued to Lea on the other end of the text. Or the call. Or the FaceTime call.

Reaching the ice hall, she has to slow her step ever so slightly as not to tumble straight into the crowd lingering around. The parking lot is packed, people spilling in and out of the arena as their voices carry through the air.

As soon as she's a few paces away she kicks up speed again, her feet barely seeming to touch against the ground of the boardwalk as she runs along it.

Her lungs strain against the cold, the air growing chillier as she's exposed to the ocean. From her fleece sweater to her supposed to be isolated mittens, the breeze makes its way through the fabric of her clothes – leaving a trail of goosebumps to erupt over her skin.

As per tradition, Sarah and Avery had left in time for New Year's to visit Barbara and Tom, exchanging snowy mountains for city lights. Their days spent playing boardgames, eating meals upon meals and browsing through more than a few bookstores. As well as ruining her shoes in the gray-ish slush lingering along the sidewalks while making her way between said bookstores.

Sat on her grandparents' petite balcony – the space barely fitting one seat but still giving her more room than that of a Juliet balcony – in the otherwise quite quiet neighborhood, she'd been surrounded by the cheerful sounds of people ringing in the new year. With her coat still wrapped around her, just having gotten back from her family's dinner celebrations, she'd been sat out there with a smile on her lips until the late night hours transcended into morning. Only hanging up on her FaceTime call with Ethan as her fingers had grown from numb to freezing, as her tired yawns were accompanied by her eyelids falling shut for minutes at a time.