Before I Break (17 page)

Monday morning arrived and the meeting with Angela was at 12, giving us time to get ready. We all showed, got dressed, and ate some waffles, eggs, and sausage for breakfast. By the time we finished and were ready to go, Avery looked nervous.

“Are you okay?” I asked. He was sitting on the couch dressed in a casual dress shirt and blue jeans. He didn’t look bad, but with that frown on his face he was beginning to look like he was ill.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m just not sure if I want to do this.”

Shock swept through just then. “Why wouldn’t you want to do this?”

Avery slunk down into the couch further, looking depressed. “For weeks now, I felt like I could do this. I felt like for once I would accomplish something and be able to show the others, the ones who told me I couldn’t do anything in life, that I really could do something. Now I’m afraid of meeting Angela because if she rejects me and decides we aren’t a match, then that means that I suck. I’d rather never show up than be rejected like I have been by everyone else.”

What Avery was saying, while it made sense, was totally unreasonable, and I told him so. “Not everyone has rejected you, Avery. You may think that they have because a few people who have come along told you that you aren’t good enough, but who cares what they think?” Then I told him that they could all go do a form of sexual action with themselves that I don’t feel is very appropriate to write down in words.

Avery laughed, seeming to brighten up at the sound of my words. “I guess so. But, you know, at first you rejected me, too.”

Remembering the first day that I met him, I have to say I am completely ashamed at the way I treated him. There was something great right in front of me and I made him feel like a complete piece of poopoo. Regret is something that everyone feels at some point in life—unless you’re a cold, heartless serial killer like those who commit those school shootings. Guilt, I’ve learned, is also a natural part of life, and that’s what emotion was enveloping me right now. The guilt for treating Avery so badly. The guilt for not being a better friend. The guilt of not sticking up for him at the rally outside the church months ago when he needed me. It all hit me hard right then, and when I met his eyes, I saw the hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” I said as I sat beside him. “I really am, Avery. Damn me. I can’t believe it took me so long to actually apologize for that, but I mean it. I really, really care about you, I just…”

“Just what?” he asked. When he met my eyes for the third time, I felt a part of me ignite, and for some unknown reason, I had to admit the truth.

I was beginning to like Avery.

But what kind of like was it? A sexual like? A friendship like, a brotherly like? I didn’t know and couldn’t give a straight answer if you paid me a million dollars—not one that would be the 100% truth anyways.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly, standing up and getting as far away from him as possible. I was like Melissa—I supported it but did not want to be one. Not…gay. “We’re going to be late.”

“There she is,” I said as we approached the Dunkin Donuts.

Through the window we saw Angela Brown at a table, checking the time to see if we’d arrive at 12. Lucky for us, we were smart enough to leave early and it was 11:55. Deciding that being early and late are both bad, we were waiting in the SVU until 11:59 so we could walk in at exactly 12 o’clock. The plan was my idea.

“We’ll be in a few minutes after you,” Melissa said, breaking the silence. “Don’t start talking about anything important until we get in there. We’re just going to be out here long enough to skip the basic introduction.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, man, we’re going to be right there.” There was an empty table, luckily, right behind where they were sitting, just as we’d hoped. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was time for him to go in. “Go, and hurry! Act like yourself and I’m sure she’ll like you.”

He hopped out of the car and walked inside, leaving Melissa and I alone in the car. Debating on whether or not to follow his lead, I got out of the car when I knew Angela wouldn’t see us leaving it. Melissa followed suit and we headed inside just in time.

“Want me to get you something?” Melissa asked. “I’ll get in line.”

“Just a small coffee coolata and a Boston Crème donut, please,” I said and took my seat at the table behind them. This was not going to be about sipping on some coffee and eating a donut—this was all about eavesdropping.

“Let’s talk about your book,” Angela said, speaking softly but loud enough for me to hear. I tried to look like I wasn’t listening in and pretended to be preoccupied at staring at Melissa. “After reading the first ten pages, I just knew I had to meet you. You’re a very talented writer for your age.”

“Thank you,” Avery smiled. “I’m not really that young, though. I’m seventeen.”

She nodded and said, “I understand that this book is a work of fiction, but you really seem to know what you’re talking about. Has anything like this happened to you before?”

“Not really,” Avery answered politely. “It was just a story I felt like needed to be told, if that makes any sense. It came to me one night and I just started writing. The whole plot kind of came together in my head in one sitting.” He held out the manila folder he had and said, “Here’s a copy of my manuscript like you requested.”

“Thank you,” she said but didn’t take the manuscript. “I just want to ask you one thing that I ask everyone that I take on—why should I represent you as an agent?”

Melissa walked over to the table and handed me my coffee and donut. “What happened so far?”

“Shhh,” I said. “Listen.”

Avery looked very much unprepared for this answer—Melissa and I both knew he was—but he composed himself quickly and said, “Because this is not just a onetime thing for me. For me, writing is more than just getting a book published; it’s about the passion for doing it. Whether you choose to represent me or reject me, I will always be a writer and won’t give up hope. One day I am going to see my book on the shelf and show the world that I could do it.” He paused as if trying to find the right words to say. “No matter what happens,” he continued, “I will always write. I’ll write until my head explodes if I have to, but I am not giving up because of a rejection. I’ve gotten hundreds of rejections these last couple of months, and one more certainly won’t kill me.”

At first my heart stopped in my chest, unsure of what was coming next. Was she really going to reject Avery? My heart almost ached simply at the thought because I really wanted him to be happy and really wanted this to work out, not just for him. I felt like Avery was going to leave a mark on the world someday and that this book was the key to his success, even if I hadn’t read it personally yet.

Angela nodded, handing him a piece of paper. She smiled and I knew right then what that meant. “That was exactly what I was hoping to hear from you. I think you and I would be a great match.”

I could almost hear the TV audience clapping in the background, but then realized that was in my head. My heart leapt out of my chest and I really wanted to hug this woman. It was really happening. Avery’s book was really going to get published! My joy for him really couldn’t be contained, and from my glance at Melissa’s face, hers couldn’t either. We high-fived under the table and waited to hear more.

“
Falling Stars
is a remarkable idea and I am willing to help you along the way.” She stood up and Avery did, too. I expect great things from you.”

“Thank you so much!” Avery said happily, shaking her hand. “I really hope you like the book.”

She handed him a card and said, “Call me by the end of the week and I’ll tell you what the plans for the future are. I will find an editor to work on the right away so we can get along our way. Just know that the editing process takes a long time, usually a couple months.”

“I understand completely!” Avery exclaimed. “I’ve done my research.”

“Very informed, I see.” Angela grabbed her things and said, “Remember to call at the end of the week so we can talk. In the meantime, let me handle all the work. Also, send me your manuscript electronically as well.”

“Will do,” Avery replied. “It was great meeting you.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, too, Avery. Enjoy your weekend.”

As she left Dunkin Donuts, Avery came and sat at our table, his face lit up with excitement. “Oh my God, you guys just heard that, right?”

“Heard what?” Melissa asked nonchalantly. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“But, she just accepted me! How did you miss that?”

“Who did?” I asked, playing along.

Avery’s look grew stern. “Don’t do that, I know you heard.”

I laughed, as did Melissa, and she said, “Of course we heard! We’re so happy for you, Avery. At least I am.”

“Hey, I am, too.” And I really did mean it. I was just as excited as he was and it wasn’t even my own book. “Sounds like the process is really on its way now. I told you that you had nothing to worry about, didn’t I?”

Avery blushed and said, “Yes, Cyril, you sure did. Thank you so much for being such good friends to me.”

“No problem,” Melissa offered with a smile. “Now, let’s go celebrate? Anyone wanna head to the bookstore?”

Christmas seemed to come early that year and on Christmas Eve, we all sat around in the big house and made cookies and watched old Christmas movies, and I felt a little bad about missing it with my parents. But for some reason, no one in my family seemed to be on good terms, so this was the best I could have probably gotten.

With growing feeling for Avery, Christmas seemed to only make my feelings stronger. Really, I wanted to ignore it, but I wasn’t really sure how. And what was even stranger was that it wasn’t like I wanted to have sex with him—I was sexually attracted to women, but with him it seemed to be different. Whatever I was feeling, I didn’t really understand and wasn’t sure that I wanted to.

When Christmas morning came, I was surprised to see a present under the tree for me. It was from Avery’s aunts. I looked at them and smiled. “You guys didn’t need to get me anything.”

Denise nodded. “Yes, we did. Now open it, if you don’t like it, we can always bring it back.”

I ripped the wrapping paper off of it, and to my surprise again, there was a typewriter. I really liked writing and the fact that they knew that seemed to shock me. I looked at them and said, “Thank you! I love it, but…how did you know I liked writing?”

Susan laughed. “We didn’t, but we figured it would be good for you. You seem like you need to release emotions sometimes, and we wanted you to be able to do that.”

To this day, I still have that very same typewriter.

“Are you sure you need to go back?” Denise asked us that Saturday. “I really don’t want to have to see you all go. It’s been a pleasure having you here.”

Our flight was going to leave around 4:30 that afternoon and we’d be getting back to South Carolina around 9. Avery’s mom already said that I could stay there for the night if I didn’t feel like driving back to my house whenever we got back, and I took up on that offer. Even though 9 was early, flights are boring and often very tiring. With our bags packed and everything, Denise and Susan brought us to the airport.