Dear Ava,
So Mom is a tad disappointed about the fact that I didn’t drive under the influence and have a hangover and ask her to cough up some unicorns (don’t ask). She always wants to be right, which is a trait I don’t know where she got. Probably her dad. I feel sorry for her friends back in middle school. Granddad once told me she was downright obsessed with being right that one time, when she and her friends were arguing about the Cold War, Mom skipped school and headed to the local library and researched. The next day, she had photocopied some pages that prove she’s right, and shoved it into their faces. She was lucky her friends didn’t abandon her.
Mom is weird, I know.
Anyway, we all had a great time with the new additions to our gang. Makes life more interesting. Things weren’t awkward anymore, like I said, and you and I were on speaking terms now. You asked me to help you with your homework once, but it was a little weird because you were sitting on Howard’s lap. It was hard not to stare at that. But the Spanish teacher did, but he just shrugged it off.
The only downside—or maybe upside, depending on how you look at it, really—of us being on speaking terms was that whenever we were alone, like walking to study hall or something, you’d insist on me asking Sarah out. Literally. Every. Freaking. Time.
How do you expect me to ask her out? We’re best friends, for Pete’s sake! It’s not that I didn’t mind, it’s just that a ton of What Ifs were running through my head. What if she says no? What if she says yes but doesn’t realize it’s a date until we get there? What is she says yes, and laughs about it with maybe Lillie and Jo and Cody? What if it doesn’t work out, and things get awkward between us?
“It won’t get awkward,” you said, rolling your eyes when I pointed this out to you. “It’ll work, trust me on this.”
“Me, trust you?”
“Yes, that’s what friends do! They trust each other,” you said, your eyes lighting up.
“I don’t know if I should be amused that you’re quoting Finding Nemo.”
“Ugh. Carter, will you just—Nike. Nike, Carter.”
Among other things, saying “Nike” was a thing of ours. Whenever a Nike commercial comes up, they always say “Just do it.” So yeah. Nike = Just do it.
But I didn’t do it. Whenever I saw a perfect moment, I froze and chickened out. And then I saw Sarah talking with some guy during homeroom, so I thought that I didn’t have a chance. Until you intervened. As always.
“Hey, Sarah,” you began. It was lunch. It was in the middle of November, the kind of weather that’s not too cold, but not too warm either. So you girls were wearing light sweaters, but me and Cody were wearing shirts, clearly unaffected by the temperature. You took a sip of your drink, acting all casual. I narrowed my eyes at you suspiciously. You used that tone that meant I’m-gonna-say-something-important-so-listen-up.
“What?” she said indifferently. She was working on some term paper, which, I assumed, was due soon, if not today.
“Been dating recently?”
Gulp. Here we go. I tried to look like I didn’t care. I had a turkey sandwich my mom packed for me that morning. I focused on chewing it and not listening in on your conversation, but it wasn’t as easy as it looks. You were sitting beside me.
“I’ve been around,” Sarah said slowly, clearly knowing that something’s up.
“Well,” I felt you flip your hair over your shoulder. “I can set you up with…” she paused, for dramatic effect.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Ava
Romance"Dear Ava, You must be mad at me, right? It’s okay. I completely understand. I’d be mad at me too, if I were in your position. But I’m not. Which makes me even angrier. I’d do anything to trade places with you. Anything. Except maybe forgive myself...
