fair to either of you to leave things uncertain...”
She pressed her
eyes closed, tears prickling behind her lids, just as Marcus made it to her
side. She blinked rapidly, fighting the sinking sensation of being
dragged into a waking dream.
“I’m so very
sorry, Thomas. I never meant to hurt you. Please try and understand
that I—”
Marcus put his
arm around her shoulders. Ava glanced up, confused with her surroundings.
The haze of alcohol and marijuana was still swirling around her; she felt like
she might be sick.
“You okay?”
She nodded
mutely and Chim tightened his hand on her arm. He led her away from the
crowd before anyone started asking questions. She rubbed her hands over
her face, forcing her composure down in place, like a suit of armour.
She’d had plenty of practise pretending as she grew up, and tonight she was
going to use that skill. Ava gave the people they passed a tight smile,
waiting until they got through the crowd to ask the question that was pushing
for release.
“What just
happened?” she whispered. She’d never seen Cole so angry before.
Chim sighed, his back to the crowd.
“I’m not talking
about it here. Fucking vultures,” he sneered. He added in a quieter
voice. “You need to give Cole some time to calm down before you go
looking for him, Ava. He’s going to be in a hell of a mood after this.”
She knew it was
good advice (whether she chose to follow it or not). Marcus had spent the
last few years protesting the war, but he also knew his facts. She slid
on her jacket, heading out at Chim’s side. Under a streetlamp, he told
Ava a condensed version of events that led to tonight’s confrontation. A
slow-motion series of snapshots flashed through Ava’s mind. She remembered the
headlines when she was in junior high school. Bits of war footage.
Things she’d seen on television reappearing, now saturated with deeper
meaning.
Connections...
She’d been front
page news when she’d died: an eighteen-year-old hometown girl, daughter of a
high-ranking vet. The young woman was the youngest female officer to die
up to that point: Hanna Thomas, barely out of high school, killed in action in
her very first mission overseas.
‘That girl in
the headlines,’ Ava
realized in horror, ‘was Cole’s sister.’
Chapter 13: Coming to Blows
Cole wasn’t
answering his cell phone, and Ava was in no condition to drive. It was
too cold to walk, a Saturday night to boot, so she ended up taking a cab home,
alone and miserable.
Two hours later,
he called.
“Where’d you
go?” she asked.
There was a
pause.
“I needed to
blow off some steam,” Cole muttered, refusing to explain further. He
sounded empty and hollow. “Sorry, Ava… I just couldn’t be there.”
She could hear
him breathing hard as if trying to control himself. Her fingers tightened
around the receiver.
“Chim told me
what happened to your sister,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize...” Her words trickled away to nothing, unsure what else to
say.
“Yeah.”
There was an
emptiness to the sound which Ava recognized. She knew that part of
herself… the anger so deep it could only come out in destruction. ‘ Broken...’
“You can’t let
it destroy you,” she said, recognizing the words as her father’s. It
unnerved her. “Kip’s just… Kip. You know? Some artists
are like that,” she added, “they just want to blow shit up. Cause a
reaction… nothing more.”
“Are you like that?” he asked, the words sharp and biting. (For a heartbeat
she could remember standing between them, though in truth, it had been
Chim tonight.)
Ava frowned,
closing her eyes and imagining Cole sitting next to her. There was the
answer she knew she should give him. The easy one. She opted
for the second one instead. The truth .
“I used to
be,” she admitted
“Huh.” The
sound was
She pressed her
eyes closed, tears prickling behind her lids, just as Marcus made it to her
side. She blinked rapidly, fighting the sinking sensation of being
dragged into a waking dream.
“I’m so very
sorry, Thomas. I never meant to hurt you. Please try and understand
that I—”
Marcus put his
arm around her shoulders. Ava glanced up, confused with her surroundings.
The haze of alcohol and marijuana was still swirling around her; she felt like
she might be sick.
“You okay?”
She nodded
mutely and Chim tightened his hand on her arm. He led her away from the
crowd before anyone started asking questions. She rubbed her hands over
her face, forcing her composure down in place, like a suit of armour.
She’d had plenty of practise pretending as she grew up, and tonight she was
going to use that skill. Ava gave the people they passed a tight smile,
waiting until they got through the crowd to ask the question that was pushing
for release.
“What just
happened?” she whispered. She’d never seen Cole so angry before.
Chim sighed, his back to the crowd.
“I’m not talking
about it here. Fucking vultures,” he sneered. He added in a quieter
voice. “You need to give Cole some time to calm down before you go
looking for him, Ava. He’s going to be in a hell of a mood after this.”
She knew it was
good advice (whether she chose to follow it or not). Marcus had spent the
last few years protesting the war, but he also knew his facts. She slid
on her jacket, heading out at Chim’s side. Under a streetlamp, he told
Ava a condensed version of events that led to tonight’s confrontation. A
slow-motion series of snapshots flashed through Ava’s mind. She remembered the
headlines when she was in junior high school. Bits of war footage.
Things she’d seen on television reappearing, now saturated with deeper
meaning.
Connections...
She’d been front
page news when she’d died: an eighteen-year-old hometown girl, daughter of a
high-ranking vet. The young woman was the youngest female officer to die
up to that point: Hanna Thomas, barely out of high school, killed in action in
her very first mission overseas.
‘That girl in
the headlines,’ Ava
realized in horror, ‘was Cole’s sister.’
Chapter 13: Coming to Blows
Cole wasn’t
answering his cell phone, and Ava was in no condition to drive. It was
too cold to walk, a Saturday night to boot, so she ended up taking a cab home,
alone and miserable.
Two hours later,
he called.
“Where’d you
go?” she asked.
There was a
pause.
“I needed to
blow off some steam,” Cole muttered, refusing to explain further. He
sounded empty and hollow. “Sorry, Ava… I just couldn’t be there.”
She could hear
him breathing hard as if trying to control himself. Her fingers tightened
around the receiver.
“Chim told me
what happened to your sister,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t realize...” Her words trickled away to nothing, unsure what else to
say.
“Yeah.”
There was an
emptiness to the sound which Ava recognized. She knew that part of
herself… the anger so deep it could only come out in destruction. ‘ Broken...’
“You can’t let
it destroy you,” she said, recognizing the words as her father’s. It
unnerved her. “Kip’s just… Kip. You know? Some artists
are like that,” she added, “they just want to blow shit up. Cause a
reaction… nothing more.”
“Are you like that?” he asked, the words sharp and biting. (For a heartbeat
she could remember standing between them, though in truth, it had been
Chim tonight.)
Ava frowned,
closing her eyes and imagining Cole sitting next to her. There was the
answer she knew she should give him. The easy one. She opted
for the second one instead. The truth .
“I used to
be,” she admitted
“Huh.” The
sound was
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