It’s supposed to be a happy time. We’re at a party. We should be living it up and having fun. Instead, all I want to do is drown in my misery with tears.
“Oh, Ava. You are totally enough.” Ellie squeezes my hand. “Why would you even think like that?”
“Hayden and Gracie introduced me to their friends and they’re all so accomplished. They’ve done things for themselves, you know? They’ve graduated college and started careers and they’ve got something to talk about.” I dip my head, staring at the boots on my feet. “I’ve got nothing.”
“You’re only twenty,” Ellie points out.
“So are you.” I lift my head, my gaze meeting hers. “We’re the same age and you’ve done so much more already.”
“You’ve done a lot too, thanks to your father.”
“Only because of my father,” I correct. “What I’ve done doesn’t count because it wasn’t me. It’s all my father. And my parents, together. Me? I’m just lucky enough to be his kid. That’s it. I’ve accomplished nothing so far, and I already feel so behind in experiences. In life. I’ve wasted so much time.”
“Ava, that’s not true. You’ve always said you wanted to change the world,” she starts, but I cut her off with a look.
“How, though? I have no plan. I’m majoring in international business, but I don’t want to be a business woman.” I say the last two words as if they’re dirty. “I don’t care about any of the classes I’m taking. When I’m at SDSU, I’m a good little student, the perfect sorority girl. Always helping out. Getting involved, but for what?”
“You’re allowed to have fun,” Ellie says softly.
“Meh. I’m just some dumb blonde lost in the crowd. A girl who wasted the last four years of her life loving a boy who so easily gave her up because she wanted to do something for herself.” The tears do come now, sliding down my cheeks as if I can’t control them. Which I suppose I can’t. “How do you do it, Ellie? How do you become an individual when you’re so connected to Jackson?”
“I just make sure I never stand too deep in Jackson’s shadow.” She smiles, before pulling me into a hug, holding me close. “You are a star, Ava. A big, bright, shining star and I don’t want you feeling like you’re not important enough. You’re going to go on and make something of yourself. It’s okay if you don’t know what that is yet. You still have plenty of time to figure it out.”
I cling to her, the drink dangling from my fingers, and I’m careful I don’t spill it on either of us. “I’m scared. What if I fuck something up?”
“If you do, it’s okay. It can be fixed.” She smiles reassuringly.
I slowly pull away from her. “You really believe in me that much?”
“I’ve always believed in you,” she says, leaning in so she can press her forehead to mine. “Now let’s dump that drink and go outside so you can get some fresh air. I think you need to slow down on the alcohol consumption for a little bit.”
We end up on the top floor of the house, Ellie leading me out onto the deck. Even at night, the view is magical. There’s a full moon, so the silvery light glints off the lake, the towering pine trees shrouded in shadow. There are strings of orange and purple lights overhead, strung across and attached to poles in a crisscross pattern. There are overstuffed outdoor couches and chairs strewn about, surrounding wood-burning firepits. Up here it’s quieter, a lot less people, though there are still plenty of them around. The women sitting are draped in thick, cozy blankets and I shiver, wishing I had one wrapped around me.
Ellie finds us a bowl of chips and we nibble on them as we sit by one of the firepits, the warmth of the fire warming us up. She found a bottle of water for me and I sip from it every few minutes, feeling better already.
“I’m too emotional,” I tell my best friend. “I need to get over myself.”
She fiercely shakes her head. “No, you’re not too emotional. You have every right to feel this way—you’ve been through a lot. It’s like the seven stages of grief or whatever. Right now, you’re sad. And picking on yourself.”
“I need to stop. Maybe he’s the one I should be picking on, you know?”
“How about we just stop talking about him?” She lifts her brows. “You’re wasting your energy, worrying over what he’s doing, or worse, getting mad at him. Forget him, Ava. If he’s really going to let you go so easily, then he never deserved you in the first place.”
Ellie’s right.
So why is it so hard to let him go?
Oh, I know. It’s because I just glanced up and there he is, sitting on a couch across the deck from us, Jackson on one side of him and…
I squint, trying to make out the other guy sitting next to him. His face is familiar, but I can’t quite place him.
“Who is that with Eli and Jackson?” I ask Ellie.
She glances up, her expression changing when she spots them. “Damn it, Ava. I didn’t mean to bring you outside with Eli sitting over there. I didn’t realize he was—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupt. “But who is that guy? He’s familiar to me.”
“It’s Brenden. He was Eli’s best friend back in high school,” she says.