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  “Want to do something to take your mind off of Adam?” I suggested, feeling bad I said his name.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, blowing her nose. “I’d like that.”

  Tory and I went up to her room, which was marginally roomier than mine. Not like I’d been in there since last year. In fact I slept in every room but the one I’d been raped in. I couldn’t even pass it without some sort of spasm or emotionally gut-wrenching thought taking over. Honestly it was a controversial subject – one that I’d love to talk about someday without flinching or feeling the urge to vomit. But I didn’t feel that way in Tory’s room.

  It looked as if a pre-adolescent child had inhabited it. The walls were a pale shade of crimson. Her comforter set, pillows, rug and lamp were all hot pink. She had an array of amazing smelling perfumes from the many places she’d traveled growing up: Paris, Rome, India. Little ballerina figurines and other trinkets filled the space as well.

  It was cute. It was chic. It was Tory.

  Scattered pieces of paper were strewn across her large oak desk – which if I recall took six men to bring upstairs because it was heavier than a full-grown walrus. Or something like that.

  Beside her desk were four extremely large bookshelves containing every romance novel known to man. Seriously. She had everything from Shakespeare to Jane Austen to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Nicholas Sparks, Stephenie Meyer and beyond. At one point I’d been jealous of her. That is until I acquired the same books she had . . . and then some. She’d told me once that she’d hit her quota for romance novels. She had her true love – Adam – and didn’t need to read about something she was already experiencing.

  Again, I felt sorry for her. This must have been what it was like to be around me for so long. I wished I could diminish the memories – take them out of her head and destroy them forever – so she wouldn’t have to feel pain anymore. G-d knows what I went through with him. She didn’t have to feel the same thing I did. Well you know, something similar to what I went through. Although she hadn’t spoken the words I knew what she was trying to cover up: Adam had cheated on her.

  We were sitting on her queen sized plush bed looking through old, ripped notes that felt as brittle as straw and tattered pictures from high school – which might I say felt like eons ago. We had attended the same school district in New York.

  There was one picture of us from freshman year: Tory sitting on my lap while my legs and arms thrashed out around her. It looked as if Tory had four arms and four legs – like an octopus. It made me laugh.

  Looking past what our bodies were doing, I noticed the expressions on our faces, remembering how life seemed to be so simple, so carefree before boyfriends got involved. It made me realize that being in a relationship all the time wasn’t so important. Back then we thought a zit was the worst of our problems. We were overly dramatic.

  We’re all looking for true love, right? Well in high school I guessed we all figured we’d find the one. Even though all these statistics said ninety-seven percent of high school sweethearts married, what I’ve seen is about ninety percent of relationships failed past graduation.

  Suck on that, statistics.

  “It’s so funny,” I said glancing at the photos.

  “What is?” Tory asked looking at a picture of us from junior year at a football game wearing matching jerseys to support our home team.

  “How we thought things were so complicated back then.”

  Tory snorted. “Yeah, right. We didn’t know what hardships were until college and failed relationships came around.” Since Tory didn’t go to the same college I went to, if her last class went until 12:30 PM, by the time the clock struck 12:34, she was already in a taxi on her way to see me. She would spend the rest of the day at my house or I would come see her at her dorm. My schedule resembled hers the best it could.

  I could have gone to NYU if I wanted to; I was accepted. It’s just that I didn’t have the funding I needed to go – which was a lot. Tory’s parents offered to help me out but I declined, reminding them they’d done enough for me over the years. Not to mention the things I’d gotten from them now.

  It’s a long list.

  “It’s sort of disappointing though. I wish we still had that innocence – not knowing what heartache or hard work was. Now it’s just . . . out of control,” I said, not only recalling my relationship with him but the workload college supplied us with. I was glad it was summer break.

  “Tell me about it.”

  We sat there, reading over past notes to each other and reminiscing when Tory asked me how my date with Jensen went the night before.

  “It was very sweet,” I answered, blushing.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” Tory sat up straight and placed the notes back into a light pink, frilly box she’d hand-decorated herself when she was in her crafty stage a few years back. “Tell me all about it.” She was expecting something mushy and romantic. Although I wanted to tell her about my experience I didn’t think this was the most appropriate time to be bringing up my giddy situation when Tory was practically in a mourning state with her own relationship.

  “Tory, are you sure you want to talk about this right now?”

  She glared at me. “Tell me or I’ll give you a paper cut!” she threatened, grabbing a note from the box, holding it an inch away from my big toe. “Talk. Or the little piggy turns to bacon.”

  I snickered and rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t what we did that was so great…it was him. Everything about him was just so…unreal.”

  Tory was beaming. I laughed from her reaction.

  “Ava, I’m just so glad you’re moving on.” She shared a questioning look. “You are moving on, aren’t you?”

  Am I?

  “I think I am?” I cautioned. Was I really willing to give him up? After everything we’d been through – the good and the bad? Okay, well towards the end, mostly bad. But some part of me still loved him. And would always love him. No matter how much he scarred me emotionally and physically . . . for life. “That’s the plan.”

  “I’m so proud of you!” She flung herself at me, hugging me wildly until I had to push her off. “And it’s all thanks to me!” A big smile appeared from ear to ear. For a long while we sat there, laughing and talking about Jensen.

  “Hey Tory, how come up until now you never mentioned Jensen?” I asked, curious as to why my best friend hid the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on from me.

  “He never really came up,” she admitted, shrugging.

  She explained to me that every summer, excluding post-high school graduation, she went to a co-ed sleep away camp in Florida; very wealthy children attended. I remembered all those summers she left to attend the camp. We went through about eighty-five post cards per summer because we wrote so much. I was completely shocked that in none of the letters did she ever mention Jensen Marx; because that’s where she had met him. She continued to explain how they’d been pretty close over the summer but always drifted apart during the school year. When they met on the beach last week she was in complete shock and had to invite him over.

  “When are you two seeing each other again?” She sounded a little too eager. I couldn’t blame her; I was just as enthused.

  “Tonight.”

  “Aw! I’m so excited for you!”

  “Nothing’s really happening yet,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “Avalon, you’re dating again. You’re talking to men again. You’re happier – like you’re on cloud nine. I already see the old you coming back to life.”

  I couldn’t deny it. I felt a change within myself and enjoyed the feeling. I just hoped it would last long enough for me to evolve completely.

  SIX.

  I was going for the casual look: A long, black maxi dress covered by a light cobalt blue sweater and white strappy sandals.

  I felt so confident with my lengthy necklaces and long, wavy hair. I actually spent time preening and primping myself. For the first time in a long time I was truthfully pleased with my appe
arance.

  Pondering my thoughts Tory walked into my bathroom. She hollered like a drunken frat boy, giving me the once-over. “You look really cute.”

  “Thank you.” I grinned. It was always a good thing when Tory complimented my outfits. She was a fashion junky.

  “I’ll probably be out past twelve so don’t wait up,” I assumed, applying blush to my slightly high cheekbones. This date was giving me a chance to use the overabundance of cosmetics I had stocked up but generally didn’t use.

  “Don’t worry, Ava, I’m not gonna be one of those stalker parents staring out the living room window until you get home. Since I’m your friend I’ll tone it down a little by looking out the kitchen window instead. Better view,” she teased with a smirk.

  I snickered at her remark. “Oh joy.”

  I put the finishing touches on my eye makeup then applied a shimmering coat of pink lip-gloss – the one Tory bought me. I puckered my full lips and smiled at my reflection in the mirror.

  “Avalon, you really look amazing. Jensen won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

  “That’s the idea,” I said hesitantly, sighing, thinking of how Tory was still dealing with Adam leaving her. I felt guilty for wanting to go out. I shouldn’t have been going out tonight. I should’ve said I wanted to spend time with my best friend, making her feel better. “I don’t have to go tonight, you know.”

  “You’re going.” Tory was stern, holding me by the shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. “You are going on a date with Jensen Marx and you are going to like it!”

  I laughed and gave her a quick hug. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured me, smiling. “Sam, Ryan and Lucy will be over in a bit. Now go before I throw you out!”

  I didn’t like the idea of the Drunken Trio coming over. All they did was manipulate Tory into another drinking frenzy. I looked at the clock; it was a quarter to ten. “Okay, I guess I better get going then.”

  “When you get back you need tell me all about it. I want to know all the crazy, sexy, amazing details.” She winked as she patted my back. “My little Avalon’s growing up.” She was such a drama queen but I appreciated her eagerness to get me to go on this date.

  “Well I’m off,” I said about ready to keel over.

  “To see the wizard?” An intermittent light was seen in her eager milk chocolate eyes.

  “The wonderful wizard of oz.”

  I walked out the door debating whether I should ride my bike or walk to Old Tily’s Convenience Store. But once the thought popped into my head it was as if I already knew the answer: I was walking.

  After about thirty seconds though I felt myself skipping down the lengthy road, a high sense of exertion flowing through me – igniting my every move. In no time at all I would be in Jensen’s presence – something I’d been looking forward to since we’d departed last night. I reminded myself I wouldn’t allow his presence to distract me from a nice evening. Everything seemed peaceful, serene. And I was caught in the middle of its beauty. I took a long, deep breath as I headed for the store on this considerably windy night. It felt like it could have been the beginning of autumn. All that was missing were the changing leaves.

  I rounded the corner to find Old Tily’s staring me in the face. The lights were on but it seemed to be that no customers were inside. The usually hustling and bustling area seemed almost deserted. Only a few people passed by: A couple arm in arm, a small child with his mother and a man walking his miniature Dachshund.

  “Date number two I’m ready for you,” I whispered. Just as I was about to turn the knob Jensen appeared out of nowhere, opening the door before I could.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you there!”

  Great. Way to be sexy.

  “You’re so silly, Avalon,” Jensen smiled after making his ghostly appearance – his stance statue-like. His blue eyes were glowing with anticipation and excitement. He was wearing his purple work vest; his undeniable masculinity showed through the sculpture of the clothes he wore – muscles overwhelmingly too tempting not to want to touch. “You look…wow … ”

  I blushed and entered the building. “Thank you,” I replied.

  Jensen chuckled. “You don’t have to feel weird about blushing in front of me. It’s adorable.”

  “Ugh, great.” I had to change the subject before my embarrassment deepened. “So what do we have planned for tonight? A little floor sweeping perhaps?” I asked grabbing a broom from behind the counter. “Or how about stocking the shelves?”

  His laugh was hearty. “Sorry to disappoint but that’s not on our agenda for tonight.”

  “Oh no?”

  “Definitely not.” He took the broom out of my hand but not before his warm fingertips brushed across mine. He gave me chills. “I have a little surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” I hated surprises.

  “Come with me.”

  He led the way to the back room where boxes lined the walls. At the far end was a round table covered by a black tablecloth with a tall white candle in the center. Many sets of dazzling white lights surrounded the area. It was absolutely breathtaking.

  “This, Miss Montage is my surprise for you.” He walked over to the side of the table where he uncovered three trays. The first was a large crock-pot with steaming onion soup, freshly baked bread on the side. The next had a plate full of baked rosemary chicken and mashed potatoes. Finally, a colorful salad with almonds was under tray number three. Chilled iced tea and two slices of apple pie were beside the table.

  My jaw dropped. Not because of how amazing the food looked and smelled but because he had put forth so much effort into making tonight special. No other person had ever done this for me. He was treating me like someone I didn’t feel I was – worthy of a decent man, or date for that matter.

  I have to realize that not all men are like him. And I do deserve someone better than that.

  “Jensen,” I gasped, “this is unbelievable. When did you have time to do all this? And your boss doesn’t mind?”

  “I prepared the food last night after our date. I simply transported it here.” He poured us some cold tea, the ice clinging against the Mason Jars. “My manager thought it was a nice idea. He told me he’d let us have the whole store to ourselves as long as I cleaned and locked up afterwards.”

  “I can’t believe how remarkable this is.” I took a seat, still in awe.

  “Oh! I almost forgot!” Jensen ran out of the room. He was back in a split second – literally a split second - with his purple work vest off. “I wanted to look presentable for you without my uniform on.”

  “You did that so fast.”

  “Rushing back here to see you is important to me,” he said matter-of-factly and sat down across from me. “So how was your day?” Such a simple, ordinary question; yet so remarkably sweet coming from him.

  “Enjoyable.” I grinned. I couldn’t stop smiling while looking at him. His nose, mouth, chin, eyes – everything about his appearance was enticing. “How was yours?”

  “Long. I was impatient.” His face was a tad flustered.

  “Why?”

  Jensen sat very still, very straight. He looked abnormally comfortable. I sat up straighter. “I couldn’t wait to see you.” He said the last word with uncontrollable happiness in his eyes.

  An overwhelming feeling of acceptance and glee filled my soul. I couldn’t help but grin. It was the only thing I could think of doing other than crying for joy. It felt so nice to have someone say they couldn’t wait to see me. I didn’t know if I should truthfully believe it but I honestly wanted to.

  “Avalon…you are by far the smartest…most beautiful…astounding woman I have ever met.” With each word he spoke a flicker of heat filled me up to the brim. Tears filled my eyes.

  “Do you really mean that?” I sounded hoarse.

  “Yes, absolutely,” he said without a beat. His cheerful smile melted my heart.

  Within a single
moment I shook my head in disbelief and stood up. I began pacing back and forth in the tiny space running my hands through my hair. What he had said to me, about me, didn’t seem logical – or realistic. I was now unfortunately unhappy.

  “Avalon? Did I say something wrong?”

  “I can’t do this. Not again.” The sting of tears burned my eyes.

  “Do what? You don’t have to do anything.”

  I ran out of the room and onto the street outside of Old Tily’s embarrassed beyond belief. I started walking and within moments heard pounding footsteps coming toward me.

  “Avalon.” It was Jensen. He ran in front of me now cupping my tear-stained face between his large hands. I couldn’t help but look at him – into his eyes that showed no signs of my rapist; the only pair of male eyes I could willingly gaze into without seeing his. Jensen was something short of a miracle. Then it hit me: Had I been with Jensen because I truly liked him? Or was it because I couldn’t see him anywhere when I was around him? Sorry to say I was now trying to figure that out. “I don’t understand how I could have upset you,” Jensen remarked, dark eyebrows pulling together in concern.

  “You didn’t,” I blubbered. “I’m making myself upset.”

  For some ridiculous reason.

  I had a great guy that I could, in time, claim as mine. So why was I trying to mess this up? And why did I feel obligated to further embarrass myself?

  “Why?” he laughed. It was obvious he thought I was a bit bizarre.

  “It’s a long story…” I thought back to the night of the party eleven months ago. Subconsciously I winced and my eyes clouded over. I tried pretending like nothing was wrong but I couldn’t hide it. Whenever I thought of what happened my inner fears took over. I hated it and wished it would subside but it always took a while for the depressing thoughts to cool down.

  “We have all night.” He smiled warmly, releasing his hands from my face. Left behind was a soothing, tingling sensation. “And I love long stories.”