The Bone Maiden

Classes started up again on schedule. Ava spent the remainder of her winter break locked up in her room. She didn’t take any shifts at the diner and didn’t finish any winter projects or papers. She slept alone in the dark, whispering apologies to Theresa whenever she felt her nearby. She hoped she wouldn’t have to go back to school, but Ariel thought it would be best for her to get her life back to normal. That way, she could get her Associates on schedule and transfer to a better school. Ava didn’t know how to be normal without the one person who kept her grounded.

Ava walked into the community college with her head low so she didn’t have to see the stares or sympathetic greetings. They came anyway. There were fliers with Theresa's picture posted all over campus. Professors gave out pamphlets and reminded students of the services offered by the mental health department. More than once, Ava was reminded that she had a grief counseling meeting at the end of the day. Every discussion all day long in every single class. Theresa Collier hung herself from the rafters of her barn.

Since her first day of high school, Ava had attended the weekly grief counseling group at the community college. Her aunt and uncle used to drive her until she got rides with Theresa or her grandparents. Now, she was expected to walk to the diner after the meeting. But she decided she’d rather be anywhere else. She didn’t want to talk about Theresa anymore. She was the only one who made the meetings bearable. They relied on each other to get through it. And now she was alone again. Just like that first day when Theresa was nothing more than a ray of sunshine she couldn’t touch.

When she reached the hall, she turned on her heel and headed back in the opposite direction. She would just head to the diner early. Or she could find something to do to pass the time so she didn’t have to explain why she’d ditched the meeting.

She stepped outside and looked out over the parking lot. There was no one around she could ask for a ride. Or at least no one she felt comfortable enough with. Except for a solid black Charger parked on the curb on the other side of the green. It was shiny and in mint condition, even though it was older than her. A boy leaned against it, kicking the rocks at his feet, hands buried in his pockets.

He looked up when Ava approached and nodded. His eyes weren’t glassy or red anymore. Ava didn’t know him well enough to read his emotions, but he didn’t look happy.

“I figured you’d ditch,” Gabriel said.

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

“Theresa told me. Every Tuesday.”

“And what made you think I wouldn’t want to go?”

“Because I wouldn’t.” He shrugged. “I figured the worst-case scenario is that I’d have to wait an hour.”

“And why are you here exactly?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to be alone. Sometimes having someone next to you is better therapy than a room full of people who study how you grieve.” She nodded slowly.

“In a school full of people preaching suicide prevention. Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“Need a ride?”

“I only have two places to go. Home or work, and I don’t really want to go to either.”

“You know that rock formation in the woods? The one that looks like a heart?”

“Yeah, Theresa and I went there a lot.”

“Hop in.”

He pushed himself away from the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Ava opened the door and plopped her backpack down on the floor. She didn’t know why he’d want to hang out with her. But spending time with Theresa’s boyfriend was much more appealing than spending time with her counseling group.

Gabriel turned the key, and the engine released a low, deep purr. Her dad was rebuilding an old Mustang when he died. It was the car they took to the hospital after her mom fell down the stairs. Ava could still recall the sound of the engine right before the driver’s side door crushed his skull.

The rock formation was a local party scene. But usually not until summer when it was warm. Now, it was likely secluded. Unless someone was looking for a place to smoke a joint.

Ava wasn’t accustomed to going places with anyone other than Theresa and her family. If Theresa was still alive, she wouldn’t even have gone with both of them. But grief did strange things to people. Self-preservation instincts took a drop. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Gabriel, just that she didn’t know him well enough to have an opinion of him. She just wasn’t thinking about her own safety. The only note she made was the reminder that she got cell service in the woods.

The ride to the hiking trails was relatively short. Even though Gabriel lived in the city, he knew exactly where to go. He parked his car in the lot, and they got out without a word. Ava hugged her jacket to herself and followed him down the trail that led to the formation of rocks.

It was a little way off the trail, so they didn’t have to walk in silence for too long before breaking off and following the small dirt path toward the creek. They both took seats on cold rocks and continued the silence there instead of in a car.

“Why are you hanging out with me?” she finally asked after a long moment of silent contemplation.

She was thinking about the last time she’d been there. With Theresa, just before they got into the fight that made her so upset, she couldn’t come to her best friend for help when she wanted to take her own life. Tears began to well up in Ava’s eyes. Luckily, Gabriel was gazing off toward the rock formation, oddly piled to make the shape of a heart. Legend said a witch put it together. It was meant to bring lovers together.

“Theresa loved you,” he quietly answered. His voice was almost drowned out by the volume of the swollen creek. “I guess I just felt like I owe it to her to make sure her best friend is okay.” She wiped the tears away before they could dribble down her cheeks.

“It’s my fault, you know. That she’s dead.” He turned to look at her, finally realizing that she was crying. But he didn’t move to comfort her. She was glad he didn’t. She’d gotten enough of the touchy-feely comfort from Ariel.

“What makes you say that?” She shrugged.

“Things just—die around me. My grandparents, my parents, my dog. Now Theresa.”

“Death is a normal part of life. Some people are just unlucky.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“So you believe what? It’s magic?” She almost thought he was making fun of her. But when she looked up, he was looking back. His blue eyes were narrowed, studying her intensely. She turned back to the rocks. She sometimes forgot that it wasn’t just a local party spot. It was the perfect summer make-out spot, too.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she muttered.

“I’m not.” He slapped his thighs in frustration. “Look, it’s not your fault, alright? Don’t—don’t beat yourself up over it. There’s a lot you didn’t know about Theresa. A lot she kept from you.”

“She told me everything.” Now, he really was making fun of her. He rolled his eyes and gave a sarcastic laugh.

“You know how many times I’ve been here with her? How many times she skipped classes just to come here with me? I know this town as well as you do. I’m not from here. How come we never met before now, Bax? You know, I didn’t even think you were a real person until a few months ago.”

“You thought she was lying about me?”

“Can you blame me? You must have known what kind of person she was. She talked about you all the time. Bax did this. Bax said that. But I wasn’t allowed to meet you? She wouldn’t let me talk to you? Wouldn’t even let me see a picture? I didn’t even think you were real until the day we drove past you on the highway. Don’t you think that’s a little odd?”

She stood and crossed her arms to pace. Gabriel stayed on the rocks, following her with those same judgmental eyes. He wore all black every time she’d seen him. Even now, with his lighter coat and jeans and sneakers. He wore black. Immaculate. All matching shades. Not a single pet hair. Not a single out-of-place string. His hair was straight and brown, lighter than Theresa’s had been. And he wore it messy. But the kind of messy that looked like it took work—perfect messy.

“She wouldn’t let me see you either,” she admitted.

“Exactly.”

“But why?”

“Because she was jealous of you, Bax.” She shot him another glare and turned away.

“She had no reason to be jealous.” He snorted. All the demeanor of a rich boy trying to impress people had flown out the window the further they got into the woods. He was just an ordinary boy now. Slouched and hurt and clearly in the anger stage of grief.

“You’re joking, right?” he said. “You saved her. That’s what she told me. You came into her life during a really dark time and made her want to be alive again. That’s what she said.”

“Why would she be jealous of me?” His eyebrows rose.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. I thought, at first, she was keeping you from me because she was in love with you.” Now, Ava scoffed and turned away. “You were everything she wanted to be.” She tried to retort, but he didn’t let her get it out. “It doesn’t make sense to you because you don’t see yourself the way she saw you. But it’s the truth. And there’s so much more to it than I want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why do you care if I get hurt?”

“I just told you. I feel like I owe it to her to take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“No, of course you don’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from it. Look, I get it. You were her best friend. You knew her better than anyone. I’m sure you knew things about her that she never shared with me. But I was her boyfriend. And I knew her differently. I know things she never told you. And she wasn’t some—goddamn saint.” She picked up a rock and chucked it at him. Thankfully, he dodged it quickly, or she would have felt really guilty. But she didn’t have time to let it settle. She’d already stormed away toward the trail.

“Bax, wait,” he said, sounding more frustrated than anything else. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you say that?” she asked, rounding on him. He was at least a full head taller than her but looked so small and tired in the woods beneath the overcast sky. Theresa’s death was a weight on him, too. She wanted to believe he’d loved Theresa. Even half as much as she did. But there was a bitterness in him. He was angry at Theresa. And she didn’t understand why.

“I just don’t want you to blame yourself, alright? You think you did something wrong or that it’s somehow your fault. Maybe you really do believe it’s magic. I don’t know. Just—don’t. Theresa was an unhappy person.”

“I know she wasn’t happy.”

“No, Bax. You don’t understand. She was unhappy long before you came into her life. Long before her parents died. And this is me trying to be nice. She wasn’t just unhappy. She was a seriously fucked up person. She was just really good at pretending. She was a fucking narcissist. She kept that part of herself from you because she wanted you to love her. But it’s worse than that. She wanted to be better than you. So don’t—blame yourself for what she did. But don’t worship her memory either.”

“I thought you loved her.”

“I don’t—I don’t know, Bax. I thought I did, too. Maybe for a time there, I really did. But she never hid her demons from me. Not the way she hid them from you.”

“So you really think she was jealous of me?” she asked. Her tone was soft and far away, like a wounded little girl. He shook his head and sighed.

“I know she was,” he admitted. “She told me so. She was drunk. Wouldn’t have admitted it otherwise. But I was always good at reading her.”

“What exactly was she so afraid of? I’m not anyone special.”

“Of course you are. And she was afraid I’d see it. That I’d love you more than her.” She rolled her eyes and laughed sarcastically. He looked momentarily offended. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, Gabriel. It is. Theresa was—well, you saw her. She was perfect, warm, and light; everyone loved her, and I’m just—this. I don’t even know who this is. Definitely not someone she had to worry about.”

“I don’t think Theresa knew who she was either. But whatever she saw in you, she must have thought it was special enough to be afraid of. I just don’t know if she was more afraid of me seeing you or you seeing me.”

“Okay, well, thanks for the pep talk. I’m gonna head home. I’ll walk.”

“I can give you a ride.”

“I know you can. I don’t want one. Walked a million times. I’ll be fine.” She turned and headed toward the trail. He watched her go, eyebrows furrowed as if it took genuine effort to keep himself still.