All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) (5 page)

Now wait a minute. Haven’t you heard of getting back up?

“Haven’t you heard of not doing something twice if it has
severe side effects? Such as having some stranger suddenly living in your
head?”

I just want to see you live a little.

“Hmm, how are you an expert on my life now?”

I brushed my teeth and splashed cold water on my face. My
stomach growled again as I started to think about nachos. I chugged a glass of
water, realizing I needed more fluids today after running, and then stretched
on the floor. Maybe two miles wasn’t much, but I wanted to do what I could to
soften the blow.

Then I fell backwards on my bed—cursed myself as the soft
impact reverberated through my head—and allowed myself a whimper and even a few
tears over my situation. I didn’t go around crying all the time before this. I
couldn’t believe how frustrated and off-kilter it’d gotten me. What was I going
to do? I had to get help for this. I couldn’t let the voice in my head stop me
from telling someone. That was crazy, like classic, certifiable crazy.

Haven’t we moved past that yet?

Nash texted again:
What are you doing tonight?

 Seriously?

I breathed in slowly through my nose before telling Marcus,
“Isn’t there any way for you to step away for a while?”

I guess, but I’m just … kinda gone. Not anywhere.

“Isn’t that like sleeping? What’s so bad about it?”

I pictured myself raising my eyebrows at him. Then I texted
Nash to say I was staying in and Kristina was bringing nachos home. I hit send,
thinking he’d take the hint, and then remembered this was Nash. He probably
wouldn’t realize I was inviting him over. Or maybe he does understand those
kind of subtle clues, but he’s too shy to ever act on them.

Could I handle spending time with Nash with Marcus hanging
around? I heard a few choice words from Marcus, which was the motivation I
needed to text Nash:
Want to come over?

Really? Just to piss me off?

I sighed, a long, frustrated and drawn-out sigh.

“See, here’s the thing. I was living my life and hanging
with my friends, and suddenly you’re here. I guess I understand it’s tough on
you, if you’re real and really can’t leave, but I shouldn’t have to change
everything about myself. Right? Can’t you see it from my point of view?”

Now he sighed, copying mine exactly.

Yeah, yeah. I actually totally understand your side. This isn’t
fair. Not for me. Not for you. So here’s my thing … If I try to understand and
respect your side, can you stop implying or flat out saying I’m a ghost, or not
real, or some schizophrenic manifestation?

“How can I not think that?” I asked, throwing my hands up.

Deal or no deal.

How could it be that simple? “Does this deal mean that
you’ll be quiet tonight and let me have some time with my friends?”

Just leave?

“Just be quiet, not comment on my friends or Nash, and not
pass judgment on Nash or what I’m thinking?” I headed to my room. “I don’t know
if I can do the two-conversation game tonight.”

Fine. I’ll be quiet.

That wasn’t a black-and-white answer … which left me some
gray area too. Marcus tried to disagree but I told him to hush, then turned on
my laptop to check email. My email came on my phone too, but I figured I’d need
to download something from Mr. Finley. As promised, he had emailed.

Hey, Avery?

“Yeah?”

Can I at least have the story on Kyle? Throw me a bone here.
What will it hurt anyway? If I’m just some voice in your head that you made up,
there’s no reason not to tell me, right?

“I … wait, now who’s saying you’re not real?”

Come on, baby, share.

“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”

Okay, then. That makes it even easier to tell me.

It wasn’t something I could talk about, so I let my mind
wander back to it, allowing Marcus to see. Kyle and I had a few freshman
classes together, and we sat next to each other in the first one because there
was a seating chart. We got to know each other a little, and we’d walk to our
second class and talk there too.

And he held an umbrella over you in the rain? And brought you
flowers?

“Um, no. And who’s telling the story here? We just started
talking more, even after our second class ended. One day we went to the
cafeteria and had lunch together, and it turned into a habit.” There were
always people around, but it felt like we were our own little bubble. Kyle
would laugh a lot and talk with his hands. I liked how he leaned over the
table, getting closer to listen to me.

Uh, this is the guy that won’t even look your way now?

“Well, hello, he’s with Kristina.”

And how did that happen?

The doorbell rang, sending me up out of my computer chair. I
hadn’t heard Kristina and Kyle get back yet so I hurried through the house to
answer it, knowing it had to be Nash.

Saved by the bell. Cliché.

Nash had his back to the door when I opened it, like he was
gazing out at the milky, early evening sky. (It hadn’t taken me that long to
get to the door, had it?) He swiveled around, hands in his pants pockets, which
pushed his gray rain jacket back. Even with the coat and hood, he had damp hair
from the rain. The light outside the door cast a downward glow, making him look
mysterious. Almost dangerous.

Give me a break.

“Hey,” he said, with just enough smile for me to notice.

“Come on in.” I flashed him a smile and led him inside,
slowly realizing I hadn’t done my makeup or brushed my hair, or even planned
what we would do. “Kristina’s still out getting stuff.” I turned around,
feeling panicked.

Music and snacks.

I should have hugged Nash when he walked in, but it felt too
late for that now. Following Marcus’ advice, I went to Dawn’s stereo and
plugged in my MP3 player. “Do you like Imagine Dragons?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The music started as I walked into the kitchen. I had yogurt
in the fridge and … I grabbed my bag of Oreos from the shelf and opened them. I
picked one up and took a small bite, and sat the package on the counter,
sliding it his way.

You know, you don’t need makeup. One nice thing about chicks
that love snowboarding is they don’t get all dressed up and paint their faces.
Least not on the slopes.

It was so hard not reacting to Marcus.

“Did you finish that new story yet?” I asked Nash as he took
a cookie.

I slid onto a stool and he followed suit, so we were facing
each other over the cookies. He gave me a sheepish grin, looking down.
“Halfway.” Nash described what he had so far, and it sounded more like a
complicated description of his made-up planet called Moxy than a story.
Suddenly he asked, “How’s your screenplay coming?”

“I have my plot, my characters, a ton of ideas for writing,
but I keep getting stuck in the planning stage.”

“Maybe you’re a pantser?” he suggested. “Have you tried just
writing?”

Well, there’s one thing I like about his guy. You should jump
in and start, Avery. What could it hurt?

Before I answered, I heard Kristina’s laughter outside the
door, mixed with Kyle’s voice. Kristina came inside, already talking to me.
“Guess what’s out on Netflix? The last
Hunger Games
movie! I thought we
could do a movie night after nachos.” She bounced with excitement as she slid a
large plastic tray onto the counter full of stacked nachos. Kyle came in behind
her with another one. Dawn and Brandon were right behind them, like they’d all
arrived together. We naturally gathered around the counter and chips. My
stomach growled as soon as I smelled the warm chips, melted cheese and beans.

I thought about introducing Nash even though everyone had
met before, in brief, but they were already talking. I just nodded along with
what Nash said. Kyle and Nash faced each other across the counter, and Kyle’s
gaze dropped, sizing Nash up with a glint of superiority in his eyes.

Whoa! Getting interesting now!

Nash didn’t seem to notice—he was going on about selling a
short story to a lit mag. Oh, my god. He was bragging! I almost shook my head
in disbelief, just before I caught myself responding to Marcus in front of
everyone. I asked Marcus,
do you think Kyle still has feelings for me?

Something’s there … he’s territorial. Guys don’t like other men
moving in on their past girlfriends. But why do YOU care about that?

Kristina was talking—I’d missed the first half of what she
said. I picked up a shrimp nacho with sour cream and guacamole, listening. Her
eyes darted between Nash and me, trying to read us.

She wants you and Nash to be a couple, and friends with them,
so everything will be okay.

It is okay.

Are you sure about that? I wonder if she ever worries that Kyle
still has feelings for you.

I couldn’t help but watch her through the lens of Marcus.
How did he notice all this stuff? Maybe Kris
was
a bit insecure about my
history with Kyle, and I’d never even considered that for some reason.

“Sure you’re feeling better?” Kristina asked suddenly,
watching me with concern. At my blank look, she added, “You’ve been kinda quiet
since you hurt your head.”

Uhhh … I grinned and said, “I guess facing death makes you
thoughtful. I was thinking about retiring and traveling the world.”

“Facing death?” Kyle laughed, and his eyes met mine. It sent
a jolt through me—we hadn’t looked each other in the eye since …
then
.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Dawn said as she went
into the living room. She hit the lights as Brandon pulled the coffee table
closer to the two couches. I made a quick trip to the bathroom, and when I came
back, Kyle was already sitting on one end of the couch, his elbow draped across
the arm, both hands on his phone as he tapped out a text. I’d forgotten that.
He texted all the time, through movies, dinner, talking, everything except
making out.

Nash had waited for me, standing by the counter. “Is it
still bothering you?”

“What?” I pulled out my best blank face—had I been that
obvious watching Kyle and Kris? Freaking Marcus.

Nash looked more concerned now. “Your head, from the
concussion?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” I didn’t want to say any more about it
so I gestured to the TV.

The movie started and Kristina sank into the couch and into
Kyle, threading her arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. Her curly hair
made a mane behind both of them. He kept texting. Brandon and Dawn beat me to
the shorter couch—hard to call the old, shaggy thing a love seat—so I sat next
to Kristina and let Nash have the end. When he sat down, it tilted me toward
him. There wasn’t much room so we were all close. The others just didn’t
realize Marcus was crammed in with us.

Haha, funny.

I felt Nash’s arm along the length of mine and glanced at
him. This was the closest we’d ever been. He looked at me, his eyes
inquisitive. As I looked back to the screen, his fingers slid between mine,
sending tingles up my arm. My giddiness was tinged with embarrassment, and I
wondered if Nash had noticed I’m behind on the whole dating thing. I spent high
school in foster care, and honestly, dating was the last thing I wanted. Too
many creepy older guys seemed to think “foster kid” meant “easy to take
advantage of.” Guys in high school were the same way, thinking girls like me
wanted a serious boyfriend to replace the family I’d lost, and of course lots
of sex. I guess it all gave me an attitude.

That sucks, Ave. And explains a lot.

I hadn’t meant to share that with Marcus. I tried to refocus
on the movie as the front door opened and shut.

“Hey, movie night!” Jasmine came into the living room with a
half eaten platter of nachos.

“Hi, Jazz, just in time,” Dawn said without looking away
from the TV.

Jasmine dropped the tray on the coffee table and wiggled to
sit on the floor, her back on the couch between me and Kristina. “
Catching
Fire
?”

Was it awkward to be the only single person here? Not that I
was officially attached to Nash, but I was pressed against him, holding his
hand. If this was a week ago, and Marcus wasn’t in my head, I’d be ecstatic. I
belonged.

I glanced at Nash in one of those moments of, “Hey, did you
feel that?” but of course he didn’t. Sensing me stare, he met my gaze again, I
think. It was hard to tell in the soft lighting and colors flashing.

I’d actually watched this movie in the theater. Hadn’t
everyone? Kristina probably had too, but it was still fun to watch it again. I
tried to lose myself in it but Nash’s side moved against me when he breathed.
He let go of my hand to lift his arm over me. I slid closer, lying against his
side, as his arm came around me. He smelled light and clean, a mix of deodorant
and soap, but not any noticeable cologne. Too bad I couldn’t hear him like I
hear Marcus—what would he be thinking right now?

I felt like I was talking into a void without Marcus
commenting on my thoughts. How backward and weird was that?

Dawn and Brandon left about two thirds of the way through,
and Jasmine claimed their couch. After the movie ended, we talked and finished
the last of the nachos. Mostly I listened, trying to decide if I liked Nash and
Kyle talking so easily.

We were standing around the kitchen counter again and
Kristina caught my eye, a sly smile on her face. I raised my eyebrows and made
a discrete gesture toward Nash, trying to ask her,
Should I ask Nash back to
my room?

She mouthed
Yes, duh!

He reached above his head, stretching, and looked at his
watch. I liked how he wore a watch instead of checking the time on his cell
phone. “I better get back home. I still have some studying to do tonight.”

My heart sank before I could stop my feelings. “Sure. I’ll
walk you out.”

We walked outside together without saying anything. For a
few seconds, he just looked up toward the sky, making me think he was as
awkward as I was about all of this. When he looked down at me, I could feel all
the emotions and thoughts behind his gaze. It made me wonder if we really can
see into another person, or if we’re just projecting what we want.

“Night,” he said on a breath, leaning toward me.

I heard my own intake of breath, too quick. It sounded
worried.

 “Goodnight, Nash. Thanks for coming over.” As I spoke, I
laid my hand on his chest for just a second. It was a light, friendly touch,
like when you touch someone’s arm while saying goodbye. Inviting, but not that
kind of inviting, just saying maybe more later. Yes, that’s what I meant with
it. Maybe there would be more later.

We held eye contact for a few more seconds and he turned and
left. I waited a respectable moment before shutting the door, and then I
promptly sagged against the wall, planning to regroup. The house was quiet…too
quiet.

I could feel Marcus as strongly as if he were standing two
inches from me, hovering. Brooding. Waiting. As irritated as that made me, it
felt better to have him back.

Well? Did you want to kiss him?

You’re mad I touched him, aren’t you?

This knowledge blew my mind … and troubled me. He
was
upset about my feelings for Nash.

“Ave?” Kristina leaned out from the kitchen. She motioned
eagerly for me to come fill her in. Jasmine was gone. Kyle must have gone to
Kristina’s bedroom or the bathroom. “Well?” she asked, excited.

I shrugged, but I smiled too.

“First kiss?” she whispered, scrunching her face, coiled to
explode into giggles or something. Maybe Marcus had succeeded in coloring my
view, because this seemed a bit over the top.

“No … not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“I don’t want to rush it.” I picked at a chip crumb on the
counter. “I won’t get these early days back.”

Ten minutes later, as I walked back to my room, I still
couldn’t get that to make sense. Nothing about life was right now. I jumped in
the shower under hot water, then stood and let my mind go blank.

Was I in here showering because I felt …
wrong
about
almost kissing Nash? Why did I feel conflicted about it at all, when I’d been
daydreaming about him all year?

I waited for Marcus to jump into my internal conversation,
but he kept his word this time and stayed out of things. After I dragged myself
out of the shower, I found a text from Nash.
Night sweet girl.

I texted back
had fun!!
followed by a smile face. So
corny. But what should I say?

That’s when I realized that we hadn’t discussed anything too
personal, not outside of what we thought about different classes and
professors, what we’d done the night or weekend before, or a movie. Stuff like
that. Tonight would have been perfect for learning more about each other, if he
had stuck around after the movie.

So tell me about your screenplay.

Where’d that come from?

I’m curious. What are you writing about?

Well … 
I peeked out the door.

For Christ’s sake. If someone hears you, just say you’re talking
on the phone.

I shut the door and glanced around for my Bluetooth. It was
sitting on my dresser because I didn’t use it that often. I hate talking on the
phone where other people can hear me. But instead of putting it in, I stood
there a minute staring at it.

I’m sorry. I was being an ass again. It’s just that I keep
getting so frustrated by these limitations. I do want to hear about the
screenplay.

I sat on the bed, looking at my notes on the wall. “I keep
getting stuck. I started writing a story a couple of years ago about a girl and
guy that get stuck on an island together, like in
Swiss Family
Robinson.
Then I came across a book called
On the Island
. So I had to get a new
idea. I had another adventure story based on a road trip two friends take to
South America, but it was hard getting into the different location. So now I
have a bunch of semi-finished outlines. One’s about a girl with special powers,
trying to get a normal guy to fall for her. But there’s so many paranormal
romance books out there already.”

Well, maybe you just need to get out and live. Have some
excitement. Then you’ll have all kinds of things to write about. Maybe you
should take a trip to South America.

“A trip somewhere, someday. Right now it’s time for some
needed sleep.”

A minute after I snuggled down into my covers, a knock came
at the door. Kristina waited on the other side in her pajamas. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” I swung the door open and went back to the bed,
sliding over to make room for her. Back when we were roommates in the dorms,
we’d stay up for hours talking. Sometimes she crawled into bed with me … and a
few times we fell asleep in the same bed after talking on and off into the wee
hours of the night. “Kris …” I desperately wanted to tell her everything.