Leave Me At the Doorstep

Chapter 8: Not Like Always (Jackson's POV)

"What happened now?" I'm not stupid. Avery hasn't moved her left hand all day. Her knuckles are swollen and purple with dried up blood on them. She can't lie today.

"My brother closed my hand in a door," Avery replies. She must be a really good actress. There's not a hint of guilt or worry on her face. I give her a quizzical. "I'm serious! I guess he was upset yesterday. I was playing with him, he usually would have laughed but instead he slammed the door and this happened."

Still. No guilt. No worry. Could she be telling the truth for once? "Okay," I sigh.

Over the next few weeks, Avery and I became really. I'll leave the guys to go sit with her and my mom thinks I'm having a growth spurt because I always ask for extra food. I'd ask her how she was feeling everyday, just to make sure her brother didn't "hit her with a bat" again. I'd walk her home and she'd always tell me the same thing when I tried to walk her to the door, "Leave me at the doorstep." But what she really meant was, "I'll say bye at the sidewalk and won't go inside until you're out of earshot." But that changed one day.

Two days ago, I walked Avery home, just like always. I ranted about video games, just like always and she listened and nodded, just like always. We got to her house and, just like always, she said, "Leave me at the doorstep."

"Sure," I answered.

She watched me walk down the street and turn the corner. After I heard her footsteps go into the house, I ran back around the corner to towards he house. Any passing neighbors would probably think I was some amateur burglar, but who cares? I'm just trying to help my friend.

I eventually got the courage to run to the front door and jiggle the handle. Figures. She locked the door. I pressed my ear to the door, being extra careful not to make any noise.

"Good you're not late," a low growly voice says. I can tell the owner of the voice is puffing away on a pipe with no shame whatsoever about the fact that he's doing so in his 12 year old daughter's face. "Here's the money, no extra treats, and remember the cigarettes this time."

"It's Julian's turn to go shopping, Dad."

"Whatever."

I sat at the door for about an hour, listening for anything. I couldn't hear anything though, just the sound of a glass bottle being slammed onto a table over and over. Weird.

"What are you doing?" A low voice growled.

I turned to see a guy with disheveled blonde hair. He wasn't tall, but he towered a good foot and a half over me. Not only that but the way he carelessly hung his backpack from his shoulder and the way his dark gray eyes were fixated on mine. "I-I'm -"

"A friend of Avery's? I'll tell her you're here."

"No, no, no, no, no!!! I mean - I'm getting her a surprise so I'm, kinda stalking her to figure out what she really wants." I replayed what I had just said in my head and noticed that it was the most stupid, sorry excuse ever but none the less, the guy went for it. "Julian, right?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Jackson. Avery and I are both in Ms. Chevy's class in the afternoon. "

"Yeah, well, Jackson?"

I looked up at Julian a little less intimidated this time, but still cringed at his next sentence.

"Don't come back. For your own good."

"I don't care." I can't believe I just said that to a skinny, but still fully capable of knocking the life out of me, 16 year old guy.

"Well, do it for her then. I don't want you getting ideas, Jackson. And if you do, toss 'em. Don't make her life worse than it already is."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Julian seemed to be finished talking and I didn't have anything left to say so I left. Not like always.