Broken Glass (4 page)

When I entered the room, Tyson stood up and smiled
,
and with the risk of sounding utterly corny, he took my breath away in just in khaki pants, a t-shirt with a hamburger on the front of it, and those same blue sneakers.

We left my house then and the confirmation that this was an actual ‘date’ came when we stopped by McDonald’s on the
way to Luna Moon—
and Tyson paid not only for his own value meal, but also for my chicken nuggets and diet coke.

             
When we got to Luna Moon after our very pos
h dining out, it was packed.
But somehow, Tyson and I managed to push through the horde of people at the front door to
find Emily and Jake. Luna Moon wa
s a café-type place with a small stage in the front of the building for performances, and a bunch of round
tables facing that stage. There wa
s a patio, as well, for people who like
d
to eat under the stars, and all in all, it’s quite a happening place to be in the likes of such a small town as Constantine, Virginia.

             
Luckily, we spotted Emily and Jake as soon as we got inside, and they’d saved us seats at
a table in the back.

             
When the lights went out and the show started, Tyson and I didn’t stay seated long. We really got into the music and in the middle of the second song, Tyson grabbed my hand and led me to the front so we could ‘mosh’ with the crowd.

             
The show lasted two hours and it was fabulous. Probably one of the best nights of my life. Afterwards, following Tyson’s suggestion, we drove out to the Constantine County Dam
, just the two of us
. We sat high up on the edge of it
gazing
at the stars. It was cold out there, but the sky was clear, and it was so beautiful that we had to take advantage of it.

             
“Do you ever look up at the stars and think, ‘Damn, I am so small’?” I asked him at one point. He laughed.

             
“Of course,” he replied. “And i
t’s true. We really are so…
tiny
compared to all of that up there. All the stars that just go on forever and forever…”

             
“The sky is really amazing tonight,” I said, shivering then. He scooted closer to me and put his arms around my shoulders.

             
“I’m not really warm, but I hear body heat is good for hypothermia,” he said. I giggled and looked at him.

             
“Is it cold enough to make that diagnosis?” I asked.

             
“Of course!” Tyson exclaimed, smiling. “I don’t know abou
t you, but I can’t feel my body…
well, except for…” His voice faded and he looked up at the sky again.

             
“Except for what?” I asked, my eyes searching his face. He looked back down at me again and grinned.

             
“My lips,” he replied, softly. “I can’t feel anything but my lips.”

             
“Ditto,” was my reply. He touched the tip of my nose with his finger and then leaned down and planted one on me. It was a quick kiss, but then he leaned in again for another.

             
My eyes caught sight of something in the sky as we pulled away.

             
“A shooting star!” I whispered, pointing. “Look, Tyson!”

             
“I saw it,” he said, looking. “Did you wish on it?” I closed my eyes.

             
“Yes,” I answered, opening my eyes again and looking at him. “Did you?”

             
“Yeah,” he replied, grinning crookedly again. “But there wasn’t any point in making a wish that’s already come true.”

             
I burst out laughing.

             
“What?” he asked.

             
“Th-that was the
cheesiest
thing anyone’s ever said to me!” I exclaimed. He turned red.

             
“This is what a guy gets for trying to be romantic?” he replied, pitifully. “Geez.”

             
“But it was also the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I added then, my laughter subsiding. His eyes met mine.

             
My heart fluttered and I almost thought I was dreaming. Good things like this didn’t happen in real life,
did they?

             
He winked and kissed me again.

             
Tyson called me the next day and we went to the local park. Then, the following week, he called me every night and we talked for hours. It went like this for two weeks and then, in his
own charming style, Tyson asked me to be his girlfriend by writing me a note on a little scratch piece of paper while we were watching a movie at my house. It said, simply, “Will you be my girlfriend? Check yes or no.”

I checked “yes”.

             
From
that night on, Tyson and I were inseparable
and everybody knew it. It was
a
really different experience for me, being in a relationship with Tyson, because I’d never been so dedicated to anything or anybody in my ent
ire life. I’d never been so
happy, either. I talked about him all the time.
Yes
. I became
that girl
. I didn’t brag about how wonderful he was, mind you, but somehow, in any conversation, something would come up about him. I was suffering from the worst possible case of tunnel vision.

I advocated his music for him, too. He’d met some guy
s at Constantine High who were musically inclined
and they’d formed a band. It didn’t take long for them to realize just how much potential was there and how good their music could be. After only being a b
and for a month, they had
gigs at all the local hot spots.

In March, when Tyson and I had been d
ating four months, Tyson’s band, Rose Madder,
went on to perform at
Marcher
High School’s annual Battle of the Bands. Everyone loved Rose Madder. They put on a fantastic performance, and Tyson’s
voice was the best thing
Marcher
, Virginia had ever heard. They were really just so passionate about their music and that drew the crowd in with the same kind of passion. At one point during their line-up of songs, Tyson dedicated a song to me and I realized something as he began to sing. I was crazy about him. And not just that punch-drunk, high school, promise ring kind of crazy. I was in love with him.

And later that night, I told him I loved him. After Rose Madder had won first place in the Battle of the Bands, I ran to him, jumped up into his arms and as I planted quick kisses all over his face, I told him I loved him. He looked at me and in that one second, it was as if everything around us
—
the first place prize money, the roaring audience, the bright stage lights…everything, all disappeared, and there was just me and him.

             
“I love you, too,” he told me and then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

             
A million flashes of the future went through my head
—
a future with Tyson. A life so amazing that only few people could even ever imagine it. I believed in a soulmate now. I believed that Tyson and I were the two
Legos
meant to connect to each other to build something great.

             
That same night of the Battle of the Bands, I finally met Tyson’s mom. She, along with Laura, Tyson, and myself, went out to the local Mexican restaurant to celebrate Tyson’s win. Tyson’s stepdad was absent from this family outing, but Tyson clearly didn’t mind. It was his night to be with the ladies in his life.

             
“So, Ava,” his mother said to me after we’d ordered our food. We were sitting in a booth, and she was sitting right across from me, where she could observe me for the entire meal.

             
“Yes, ma
’
am?” I responded, politely.

             
“You go to Marcher High School?” she asked.

             
“Yes, ma
’
am,” I said again. “I graduate in June.” I was so intimidated by her. Not particularly because she was Tyson’s mother, but mainly because she was
gorgeous
. Long, flowing blonde hair, flawless facial features, amazing, womanly figure, and the same intriguing pair of big blue eyes she’d passed on to Tyson and Laura. She w
as that timeless kind of beauty. How could I not be intimidated? T
his was the woman I was going to have to live up to. And I was sure she cooked.

             
“Now, how did you two meet?” she inquired. “Ty told me once before but it’s escaped me.”

             
It “escaped” her? Oh my God, I was having dinner with Audrey Hepburn.

             
“We actually met at the local church here,” I told her, desperately needing a drink of my water, but afraid to take it because I might spaz out and spill it on myself.

             
“At Laura’s chorus recital,” Tyson piped up. “Ava was taking pictures for the high school newspaper. She hangs out with Jake’s girlfriend, Emily.”

             
“Oh, yes, Jake,” she said. “Such a funny boy…and so handsome, too. I keep telling Lau
ra when she gets a little older…
”

             
“Mom!” Laura hissed, blushing slightly.

             
There was an awkward silence then, but thankfully, our food came and I managed to sneak in a gulp of much-needed water.

             
The dinner never got any more relaxed, but it wasn’t too torturous. The conversation went the same, with Tyson’s mother asking me questions, I’d cordially answer, and Tyson would break in every now and then with a witty remark.

             
I was thankful when it was over and I could go put some fresh deodorant on.

             
“She loves you,” Tyson assured me over the phone later that night while I lay in my bed.

             
“She’s has her own law firm!” was my random reply. Tyson laughed.

             
“So what?” he said.

             
“Does she cook?” I asked him. I had to know.

             
“Hell
no,” he replied, and I could just hear him smiling. “She’s the least domestic woman on the face of this earth. When she was still married to my dad, all we ever ate was take-out.”

             
Well, if anything, that was a relief.

             
“So when do I meet your dad?” I asked him.

             
“In due time, honey,” he yawned. Then, sleepily, he added, “I love you, Ava.”

             
I smiled.

             
“I love you, Tyson.”

3.

             
Everyone loved Tyson.

             
Even people that didn’t know him liked him.
People
who’d
heard
him at
the Battle of the Bands, people who’d
seen him at Ma
rcher to visit his sister Laura
and me, and by word of mouth, no one had a bad thing to say about him. He was
that cool guy
.

             
Cassie and Emily really just liked him so much because he made me so happy all of the time. Tyson and I never even so much as had a simple argument. In a way, Tyson changed me. I’d never been mean to anyone b
efore meeting Tyson, but after we met,
I was definitely a lot kinder and a lot more outgoing than before…a lot less cynical about the world.

In May, after Tyson and I had been together for a little over six months, the “big question” came up. Well, it was the “big question” for a seventeen-year-old girl, at least. It was Emily who asked it.