Trespassing

Ava's POV

Valerie's exquisite bronze eyes were on me. They had been for a long time now—really long, from Monday-to-Wednesday-long. Every time our eyes crossed my gaze ran quickly, afraid she'd know why they were looking dull and lifeless.

We were sitting in a nice café; she claimed the best macaroons were sold here. It was probably true; eating anything at this place cost nearly my allowance. It was a good thing I didn't feel hungry—still, I should eat the strawberry macaroons on the plate, since Valerie bought them for me. We were celebrating my awesome A+. Yup, I aced the English quiz. Dad would want to celebrate just as badly.

"You're welcome," Valerie said stunning me out of my thoughts.

Hadn't I thanked her for the pastry? I thought I had—she shook her dark head seeing me glancing at the macaroons.

"Your mom called me this weekend. Wanting to know how you were." Ah crap, no. Mom called Valerie? I'd left her the cell number because I never thought she'd call—why would she? But… she hadn't told me anything, she had just asked if I had fun. "I told her we were in the sauna, but everything was going fine. We were having a blast." She winked at my stoicism.

Valerie lied… for me? I hadn't even asked her to do that, I thought about doing it—just in case mom called—but I didn't want her or worse, Brenda, to get snoopy.

"You lied…?" Valerie shrugged like it was something she did on a daily basis, which was probably true.

"You obviously lied to your mom about spending the weekend with me. I wasn't about to rat you out." Her perfectly painted lips smiled. "So, where did you go with him?"

I saw a plane crash right before my eyes. Our eyes met—she knew. What I'd been afraid for three days straight now, she knew.

"Come on, Ava, it's pretty obvious you and…" she leaned a little closer, voice downing to a whisper. "Thomas have something going on—at least to me." The smile from before turned down at the corners, "You aren't the first person who has a secret relationship…"

I stopped then, taking a minute to think, to process everything—because these last four days, since Sunday when me and him left Boston, had been very hard. I had judged Thomas when I'd met him, I hadn't known squat about him 'cuz all I saw was the exterior, all I knew was what the media said—I saw the front he put up for the rest of the world, what he was forced to be. Valerie was being nice, not fake-nice like at school, like she acted with Brenda, like she had to—it was genuine, actually… all she did towards me, even the teasing, it was true.

Wow. I'd been tucked inside my shell for such a long time I hadn't seen it. Then again, it was human nature to judge others; somethings were hard to go around. Could it be that Valerie honestly wanted to be my friend? That she liked me? Yes, I supposed it could. I mean, Marcy was my friend—but this Ava they knew wasn't the real Ava.

"Ava?" The manicured blue nails waved in front of me.

"Oh, sorry…" I muttered. "I… did you have a secret relationship? With who?" by asking that, I was pretty much admitting me and Thomas were sneaking around.

She toyed with an adorable curl of hair, absently, looking over my shoulder.

"Let's just say I did." It was clear talking about the boy she had been with wasn't comfortable for her. "What happened with you and Harrington?"

"What makes you think anything happened—or that we have something to start with?" I played a defensive card, just because Valerie might actually like me didn't mean I was going to spill the beans.

A smile dripping honey spread out.

"Because you have that look," that look? What look? "The goo-goo eyes—and you defend him. Only an idiot doesn't see your urge to gawk Brenda's eyes each time she either trashes him or says something about how she'd have him right there." She rolled her eyes at Brenda's antics—though I wasn't sure what she said was fake, maybe she'd do it out in public. Who knew? "Anyway, it's always been pretty obvious to me," she paused drinking her chamomile tea. "Especially after this weekend,"

"What is…?" I choked up a little.

Valerie dropped her head onto her palm, smiling lazily but kind of lovely.

"That you're in love with him."

Me…? In love with Thomas Harrington, no way—that was what I should have been thinking, what I should've said. Unfortunately, it wasn't what I felt.

"I don't know about being in love…" I whispered. I didn't. I had never even remotely liked a guy like I did him—Thomas was all new to me. And I couldn't have him. So why bother sorting out my feelings? What if I did love him—what good would that do me—both of us? We couldn't be together. "I like being around him," I found myself going on, drawing invisible circles on the table. "I like the way I can be myself with him—I don't have to hide or pretend. He makes me laugh…" and I missed him. Holly God, I missed hanging with Trip.

"So why aren't you together? I mean, he has twinkly eyes all the way whenever he sees you." That made me feel like putty. His eyes twinkled when he looked at me? "Something has to have happened this weekend." Valerie trudged carefully. "You're not talking to him, vice-versa... Brenda's been talking—saying you two had been…" she cleared her voice searching for an appropriate way to say whatever Brenda said. "She's been saying you guys were friends with benefits. Thomas dumped you because he got bored."

I had the urge to stalk the streets of New York and shove down the macaroons down her throat. Chocking wouldn't be a good enough death for Brenda.

"Of course I don't believe it for a second. Brenda's tactless when it comes to love, unless it's a guy, her and a bed—she sure knows her way around then." It didn't sound like she was too appreciative of Brenda's extracurricular activity. "Don't worry," she supplemented. "I've kept things between our group. She hasn't spread one single word."

I blinked allowing my fists to relax; the knots of my fingers had been turning white with anger.

"Thanks, that's… really great of you." I lowered my face into my hands, not caring how much the makeup would smudge. Ever since we'd kissed… we'd been keeping distance from one another. We didn't talk at school, I avoided him—when I did see him I just… tried not to look all teary eyed or run up to him, wrap my arms around his neck. That was so much tougher than I'd thought. "Things are complicated for us. I don't want to talk about it. Sorry," I glanced up.

Valerie shrugged, "Hey, you don't have to apologize. It's personal, I get it. I just thought you'd like to get it off your chest." Her voice rang with surprising sympathy—as if she'd been where I was now. "Look on the bright side," she pushed the plate of sugary goodness towards me. "Heartbreak is a reason to stuff your face with as much sugary munchies as you can."

My lips tipped—albeit sadly. These macaroons were strawberry flavored… Thomas was allergic to strawberries. Damn, how did everything remind me of him? Being apart from Thomas was unbearable, it was like he was everywhere without being—he kept running through my head. His lulling voice replayed over and over like a great hit-song.

I managed to talk to Valerie about the spring fashion thing—it was this weekend, my mom was on pins and needles. Me on the other hand… I'd rather roll around in gasoline, light a match and burn—boy, was I sounding suicidal.

I'd managed to chew—swallow one macaroon which was pretty damn good, considering my stomach felt filled to the brim.

"I'm sure you'll be marvelous." She smiled, a bright one—I couldn't help but wonder what happened the next second—because it nearly disappeared. "I'll tell you all about Gabriel tomorrow." Gabriel? "I think he's friends with Thomas? Well, I met him over this weekend he's pretty… top notch." Her voice sounded a little thicker.

I caught a quick glimpse of a guy, as I looked over my shoulder to where Valerie was glaring.

"Huh…" I got out, wondering if that was Gabriel. Though, Thomas hadn't mentioned his best friend being a College kid. "Is that him?" I whispered leaning in.

Valerie's amazing bronze eyes fluttered onto me.

"No, that's not him—at all." Her nose twitched. "That's my step-brother, Jackson. He's here to pick me up, apparently." I stole another glance at the guy—he was tall, nicely built, a curtain of dark hair hung on both sides of his face—Valerie tapped my shoulder. "I wish I could give you more advice." I shook my head mutely, still a little awestruck that Valerie had a step-brother that she'd met Gabriel and that she knew about me and Thomas— plus, she wasn't… that bad, when she was out of school at least.

"Its fine," I smiled gently. "You already helped." It was a lie; my problem didn't seem more fixable than any other day.

I watched her go to Jackson's side. He wasn't looking too happy, she wasn't either. She gave him a shove as she walked past him to the expensive, curvy Mercedes parked behind him. Jackson said something that got her eyes flaring—her chin tipped in provocation before she got into the car.

What was that all about? I frowned as Jackson disappeared into the driver's space.

Well, whatever it was it wasn't my problem—thank God because I was up to my neck with those. Sighing, I walked to my own car wishing I could just call Trip, tell him to meet me—or just to hear his voice.

Trip's POV

"A zombie," Gabriel mumbled on the other line.

My head bumped on the waiting hall's wall.

"What…?" I slurred.

"Zombies have more engaging conversations than you—and they grunt, Tom. Grunt," he groaned sounding like a total whacko.

I moved around in my seat. I was in the waiting room for my hour with Ms. Coleman—Ava wasn't here yet. I didn't even know if was coming. Things had been… fucked up ever since we got back. That had been five days ago. I missed her each day, each hour, each minute, each second—there wasn't a manner of expressing how much I flipping missed her—all of her. Her chocolate eyes—soft, vulnerable or angry and raging—her olive skin, the longest legs ever completed with the perfect slim, curvy frame… her sunshine smile and her laugh—crap. I was so hooked I thought I'd been abducted by freaking aliens.

"Are you there at all? I should be studying, I have a major quiz on anatomy tomorrow."

"Anatomy," I laughed. The secretary gave me a weird look.

There was a pause on the other side, then he said in a sad, let down tone, "You just sounded like a ten-year old who heard the word vagina for the first time—that's so behind us, dude." I was acting like a complete idiot, it just couldn't be helped. Hadn't had much sleep in the last couple of days, all I could think about was my Bambi's lips on mine and— "You're not handling this well, at all." Gabriel's 'I told you so' rang out through my head. "If I was that caught up in a girl I'd just grab her."

"And what?"

"And disappear. No parents, no problems—everything would be seventh heaven."

"Yeah," I couldn't do that. We couldn't skip town, we wouldn't have any money—my parents would cut me off—and I wanted to finish high school, go to College. Ava wanted the same, only I wasn't seeing how she was going to do it if her mom wanted her to go full-time model. "Not an option in my play book." I continued glaring at the ceiling making sure it wasn't about to crack and fall.

My life sure felt like an old house. More and more things rotted and fell, until one day there wouldn't be anything left to tear down.

"I wish I could help you out, bud." No one could—unless by some miracle mom decided to hand me the DVD. I didn't see that happening, not even if hell froze over. "Is she even going?"

"Don't know…" I wheezed as if the question weighed one hundred pounds. "We normally come together, but…" but we weren't talking. "Can you come to the fashion thing tomorrow?" I felt like all this with Ava was making me soft around the edges—I'd never asked company for anything before in my life. I was okay being a loner… I used to be until I met her—I banged my head on the wall a little harder.

Gabriel moved around, office chair noises faintly greeted me.

"I was already booked for it. Valerie's going, so it's a good place to run into her. I have to work my charm, yada, yada." I could see him roll his eyes. "I'd go even if she wasn't there, man, just so you know. This way I'm just… killing two birds with one stone." I felt pretty dead already.

"You met Valerie?"

"Yes—I told you about it ten minutes ago, you have to get your ears checked." Or my head, because all I heard was: Ava. I was sick, I had it bad. "She doesn't seem half as bad, I expected her to be… more of a blabber mouth. It was actually pretty interesting talking to her, so, not dumb—"

Gabriel was great, I loved him like a brother but there was someone I liked even more and when she strolled in I stopped listening all over.

Her eyes connected with mine—barely. My veins were on fire, ever since yesterday I'd wanted to congratulate her on acing the English quiz thing, but I hadn't said a thing. I thought about texting, it just felt lame.

"Dude, you there?" subconsciously my finger moved over the tactile screen—ending the call. He was going to be pissed.

Ava was taking the seat across from mine, just like when we'd first met—the door to Ms. Coleman's office swung open, my mouth closed.

"Come on in, kids." Her perky tone made me feel even more down the hill.

Ava went in first, not looking over at me as she did. Forcing myself to stay calm and not commit a crime that would most likely land me in jail—I breezed past Lydia. She closed the door as I took the usual spot.

Messy office, blinds up, our dossiers on the center of her desk—nothing changed.

"Hi Trip," she greeted when she saw me glaring—the cheer on her face unbelievable. "Ava, how have you been doing since our solo meeting?" Lydia detoured from me quickly—she probably read my 'I'm not in the mood' look.

She gave a measly shrug. Ms. Coleman only delivered a gentle smile.

"What did you do this weekend?" she asked after a ton of routine questions—our faces probably blanched at the same nanosecond.

My body was rigid thinking about what we'd done, thinking about how I wished we could redo it—not just once, but many, many times.

"You look stiff," our shrink commented with a funny furrow of her brows. Dismissing our reactions—or appearing to do so, she looked at me. "Did you crash any parties?"

I blinked; my psychologist was teasing me.

"I stayed home." I answered swallowing a load of pent up tension.

She nodded, turning to Ava.

"How about you, sweetie, anything fun?"

Ava's fingers were nervously playing with her jacket sleeve.

"Yeah, huh… I spent the weekend with Valerie—she's a friend from school." Her eyes snuck a glance at me—my heart deadpanned. "It was nice." And my day instantly got better as a totally disclosure smile showed up—she wasn't thinking of Valerie either, she was thinking of what we'd done. Secretly telling she missed me too—which made it that much harder not to kiss her again.

Ms. Coleman showed a more than happy grin at that.

"That's great! Maybe you'll do it again?" I cringed on the inside. There didn't seem to be the faintest possibility of 'us' happening again.

"I don't know, maybe." She didn't sound all that convinced to me—just hopeful. I couldn't blame her for that.

Ms. Coleman left me alone through most of the session, only asking me little things like how many times had I seen my parents this week, or how was I doing in school—she seemed more focused on Ava.

"How have things been at home?" Lydia was doing the usual tick, tapping her pencil on the table.

"They've been calm," Ava began with some awkwardness. "My mom's happy because I'm… I'm going to be participating in the fashion show for Lovet."

"Lovet?" her gray eyes jumped to me. "That's your mother's brand isn't it, Trip?"

"Bingo," I muttered sinking deeper into my trench coat. I couldn't seem to get warm.

"I had no idea you were working for Trip's mother. How did that happen, dear?" the question was put so softly… one would think Ms. Coleman was Ava's mother.

I drew my arms across my chest as the gaze shifted between us.

"I didn't get her a job if that's what you're wondering." I muttered unable to take it. "She auditioned and got picked—no shortcuts." Somehow I told myself that was nothing to be proud over.

"I see," Ms. Coleman shared a knowing look. I wondered what that was all about, what did our shrink know that I didn't? "How does that make you feel, Ava?"

"It..." her brown eyes diverted towards me—her mouth stopped forming words.

I tilted my head softly.

"Thomas," my eyes instantly swung to Lydia—ever since our first session she always called me 'Trip'. "Would you mind stepping outside? I think Ava would be more comfortable speaking alone about this."

A raged breath left. It was like every single event, subject and person was cutting me from Ava's life. I gripped the arms of my chair.

"Sure," I gritted looking at a random diploma. "Sure I can." I got up only because Ava wanted this—not because Lydia requested it.

Two steps away from the door, heart hammering I froze.

"No," I'd heard. "He... he can stay." I glanced over my shoulder, she was locking those doe-eyes with mine. "You don't have to leave." Even if her eyes weren't pleading I would have stayed. She wanted me to. That's all it took.

"Sure about that?" I asked just in case. Ava nodded decisively and not ten seconds later I was back in my seat as if I'd never left.

"I'm glad you two seem so... intimate. It's good for bonding." She had no idea just how intimate we were—or wanted to be. "I see you've been doing what I've told you, that's good, shows that you want help." I almost dashed out the door, I most definitely didn't want help.

Ava did, though. And I couldn't help her as much as it pained me to admit.

Tucking hair behind an ear, Ms. Coleman asked, "So, Ava, how do you feel about your modeling job?"

Ava's POV

I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth. The truth coming out—in front of not only of Ms. Coleman, but Thomas.

"I don't like it," I'd begun. "I don't like being a model, my mom's the one who wants it for me. I never wanted anything like it—I hate spotlight, attention, dressing up in fancy outfits that I'm probably only going to wear once because they'll go out of fashion the next day." I said all of that without pausing for breath—talk about new achievements. "But I have to do it. Because if I don't my parents are going to fight over—well, everything and then they'll get a divorce—I don't want that. Maybe I should want it... 'cause my family's totally messed up but..." Mia wouldn't let our family fall apart, I thought. Since it was my fault she was no longer here to keep them from fighting... it was up to me. "It's all I've ever known, and it kinda feels like I owe it to them—keeping them together. Doing what my mom wants... So, it doesn't matter what I feel because I have to do it. I just have to deal with it."

I took a massive breath.

Thomas and Lydia were wide-eyed. Probably because of how fast I vomited the words. They'd been on the surface, all my feelings were. Especially the ones for a certain blue-eyed boy.

"Ava," Ms. Coleman finally got out. She looked a little dazed by it all. "Your feelings do matter, honey..." for once I left her sort of speechless. She didn't know where to start—Thomas would have showed a smirk at that, only he was too winded by my confessions. "Have you ever thought that if your parents fight... it means they aren't happy?"

"They only fight when my mom's not happy. Me being a model makes her happy, as long as I am one she won't argue with my dad." I shrugged like it was obvious. Mia had become a model because ever since she'd been born mom trained her for stupid pageants. She always loved to dress Mia up like a living doll—when my sister died things weren't good anymore. I had to step in, or they would have gotten divorced. My dad didn't care that I was a model or not, he just wanted mom to be happy and leave him alone.

"But that's not right, Ava. If you're sacrificing your happiness—the best years of your life to keep your parents from fighting... you'll never be happy, sweetie. It doesn't matter that they aren't divorced. You're unhappy, you'll always be." Thomas' eyes flickered from my face to the floor—I'd seen pain written across them. "Don't you think they would be better off apart?" I stayed silent. "It's not healthy for you."

What she was saying had crossed my mind several times, too many. Biting my lip I shook my head. It was my fault my sister was gone, my fault mom had argued with dad days on end—he almost left. Until I decided to join the modeling business.

"That's my choice," I muttered, knowing my guilt never allowed me to have a real say. "I don't mind." But I did and the reason why I did mind was in this room. Sitting next to me.

Ms. Coleman held my gaze for a minute before sighing softly.

"Yes, it is. It's your life and I can't change what you decide." I think I saw her eyes peak at Thomas.

My legs carried me down to the elevator. Feeling numb, cold and desolated. Thomas walked in an equal silent fashion. His steps were slightly dragged—Trip never walked like he was out of energy, he was always graceful—like a cat. We stepped into the elevator, a woman was stepping out. She walked by without second glancing us. I wished everyone ignored us like that—our parents too.

We settled into the elevator, Trip's finger hovered above the zero button.

"Thomas!" I shrieked when the elevator halted all of sudden.

I didn't yell at him for pressing the 'STOP' button. I didn't think about anything else other than... I was much warmer, like a fire was hugging me closely. I welcomed it, knowing this firestorm wouldn't burn me.

His breath against my neck shook me, I tilted my mouth against Trip's neck trailing the muscular curve. My arms stretched around his torso, holding him tightly—as tightly as he was holding me. I thought I was going to pass out but it would be worth it.

The unsteady heaving of Thomas' chest made me close my eyes—hard. I wasn't a girl who cried often, and I'd already done it twice in front of Thomas. I didn't know what he did, but around him I wasn't tough, strong—I felt vulnerable, prone to every single feeling and emotion.

But I wasn't going to cry again.

"I'm going crazy..." he whispered fisting a hand into my hair.

I knew how he felt.

"We can't." I muttered into the hollow of his neck.

Thomas' hand coursed down my spine.

"I hate that we can't." Me too...

I enjoyed the last few seconds of comfort in his embrace. It wouldn't last, we couldn't stay inside this elevator forever.

I wish we could and that tomorrow never came.