I'm Fine

Chapter Twenty - Ava Grace

March

"Hey, Ava G." I heard someone yell from behind me. There is only one person I know who called me that. I grabbed my books before shutting my locker and turning towards the voice.

"Hello Jared, how are you?" I questioned as he finally made it to me.

"I'm great! Hey, so there's this basketball game tonight. I was going to go, but I didn't know anyone and wondered if I could sit with you at the game?" He finished. Man, this guy is persistent.

"Well, I am going if you would like to sit with me?" I mentioned. A smile illuminated his face.

"Awesome, what time should I pick you up?" He continued.

I felt like I stopped breathing. Did he just say he was going to pick me up? Again, I barely know him, why would I get in the car with him. But there is still something about him, something that makes me curious as to who he is. I didn't want to, but I also did.

"Five. I'll text you my address." I said hesitantly.

"Sweet! Well, wait, I don't have your number." He commented.

I grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm towards me. I fetched the pen I usually have tucked in my bun and began to write down my number on his hand.

"Well, Miss Ava G, I will see you at five." He stated as he shined another smile and began to walk away. I don't know what it is about him, but I always found myself watching him walking away, wishing he would turn around and come back to talk some more.

A few minutes after five, I heard a car horn from my driveway. I looked out the window and saw a beaten-up yellow car with Jared at the wheel.

"Mom, Dad, I'm heading to the game," I shouted from the living room, hoping desperately they don't look out the window at my ride for the night.

"Are you driving?" Dad questioned from the kitchen table.

"No, a friend is picking me up." I hollered back towards the kitchen before running out the front door.

I knew my parents wouldn't approve of the car I was getting into, or the person driving it. He doesn't give off an excellent first impression with his messy charcoal hair buzzed on the sides. His attire revolved around a t-shirt with some kind of band on it. The jeans he wore always had a hole over the knee.

Honestly, based on his attire, I would have stayed clear too, but oddly enough his attire is what makes me find him attractive. Dad is going to kill me.

"Drive." I said as soon as I hopped into the car.

He doesn't question or hesitate. Instead, he put the car in reverse, pulled out of the driveway, and took off down the road a little faster than I would have preferred.

"So, mind telling me why we had to book it out of there?" He began.

"Sorry, my dad is just..." I tried to find the words to explain without making my dad sound crazy.

"Judgemental?" He interrupted.

"No, he's just picky with who I hang out with." I started, still struggling with how to explain this.

"So, judgemental. If your dad doesn't like me for my looks, then he'll never give me a chance to show him the real me." He stated.

He had a point; it isn't fair to judge someone right away. But my dad mostly does it to protect me. If anything, he didn't like most of my friends until they had been around for a while.