The Way We Almost Were

AVA

"Ava!"

"Ava!"

"Ava! Wake up, we're going to be late!"

With heaviness weighing on my eyelids, I force myself to open them slightly, to sneak a peek at the person who dared disturb my daily nap. My fifteen year old brother, Benjamin, stood before me, and given by his displeased expression and the soccer uniform that he wore, I knew where this was headed. I don't bother to address the issue, too tired for words. Instead, I reach for my phone that I placed under my pillow, to read the time.

Anyone who knows me personally, knows about my distaste for interrupted naps. I might as well wear a 'Beware! Do not wake! May be cranky' sign hovering over my head while I sleep. I will myself to sit up on the living room's sofa, knocking off my favorite throw blanket in the process.

"What do you want?" I snap.

"What do you mean, what do I want? I need a ride to my game." He says and I groan, my memory coming back.

"You promised to drive me." He reminds me.

When will I stop making promises? Especially ones that involved driving my brother places. If only he was old enough to drive himself to wherever he needed to. It was unfortunate his birthday was still months away.

"What about—"

"Mom and dad are at a friend's house, so that leaves you." He insists.

"You can drive." I said, rubbing my eyes.

"I don't have a license." Ben states and by his tone, I could tell he was getting annoyed.

"Put on a wig and use my license. No one will know the difference." I tease and he rolls his eyes.

"If I miss my game because of you, I'm going to annoy you everyday. From the minute you wake up, to the time you go to sleep." Ben warns.

Another yawn escapes me and he blows out an impatient sigh.

"Fine, just give me ten minutes and I'll be up and running." I half joke, earning a glare in return.

"This is no time for your precious sleep Ava." He tersely replies. "Coach wants us there by 7:15."

"I'm already sitting up." I said, holding my hands up defensively.

Benjamin wore a scowl on his face, waiting for me to get off the couch. He left to gather the rest of his things, once he saw me stand. I walk straight to the bathroom, to quickly examine my reflection before leaving. There was no way I was walking out looking like a hot mess.

The unkempt bun that was on my head was falling loose, the dark strands poking out in every direction possible. My face was no better. There is crust under my weary eyes and an unexceptional amount of dried saliva on my chin.

I unravel the bun loose, and quickly run a brush through my dense locks, brushing out the tangles until I could create a semi-perfect ponytail. Then, I wash my face to get rid of dry fluids that might embarrass me later. Satisfied with my freshened up face, I walk out the door with my hoodie on.

As expected, Benjamin was eagerly waiting inside my green blue 2005 Ford Ranger. The temperature is about ten degrees lower than I expected and the wind knocks me fully awake. My teeth are chattering before I even reach for the door handle of the driver's side, and I wondered how any of my brothers could play in this weather.

My brothers had always been fans of soccer, for a number of reasons I couldn't quite explain or understand. Not only was soccer their reason for living, but they breathed the sport like it was necessary. While it was short of becoming annoying, I never once missed a match of theirs.

I slam my door behind me, buckling myself up as I turn to face my brother who gives me a pointed look.

"Can we go already?" He blurts, motioning towards the console.

"Should've taken my advice and worn the wig." I said, with a cheeky grin.

When we arrive to the town's only soccer complex, Ben's teammates are already huddled by someone's car. I park two spots away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves, or specifically to me. If it were up to me, I would have parked on the other side of the field, but Benjamin hated walking long distances, despite his love for running.

"Looks like I made it just in time." Ben said, with a sigh of relief.

"You made a big deal out of nothing. I hope the wedgie was worth it." I remark with a laugh, but Ben doesn't share my amusement.

"I'll see you on the stands." He mutters, closing the door behind him with a slam.

"Stop being a baby!" I yell, hoping he'd hear me through the window.

My brother comes to a halt, slowly turning around. He opens the door just as quickly as he closed it, poking his head inside to respond.

"For the record, I'm not a baby. I'm almost sixteen, but I can imagine why you would think so, since I have the smooth skin of a newborn." He hastily comments, motioning to his face with arrogance.

"i wouldn't jinx it, pepperoni face." I said.

"I think you're referring to yours?" He adds, before closing the door and making a gesture like he dropped the microphone.

With a defeated sigh, I take the keys out of the ignition, following my brother outside. I was in no mood to continue the argument, so I mentally prepared myself for the torture that was to come. If only I could avoid the stares of my brother's teammates.

The bitter weather welcomes me, giving me a strong urge to crawl back under the covers. I had to admit, I wasn't in a particularly peppy mood tonight, nor was I looking forward to socializing. I silently prayed I'd blend into the background. It was awkward enough having my brother's teammates stare at you like I was an extraterrestrial out of this world, or the only girl they ever saw up close.

"Ben! My man! Ava! My woman!" One guy greets us.

I let my eyes linger on Benjamin's teammate, trying to rack my brain for his name, but coming up with nothing.

"It's about time you guys made it." Another guy pitched in.

"I was beginning to think we'd play without you..." A familiar voice speaks.

I unconsciously follow the smooth voice that spoke, realizing my mistake sooner than later, when my eyes land on him. How could I forget about the great Roy Cantrell? He was not only my brother's teammate, but one of his close friends and a former one of mine.

Fast forward a handful of years, I could hardly stand to breathe the same air as him, and I've done a terrific job of avoiding him at all costs. But everywhere I turn there he was, weaseling himself back in, without meaning to.

It didn't help that Roy was adored by everyone I know, including my family, and friends. He had yet to draw me in with his charm, despite his attempts to talk to me.

His eyes met mine and I force myself to smile, even though I felt a strange urge to vomit.

"...and you brought your sister." He elongated the sentence.

He held my gaze, until I willed myself to look away.

Roy returned a full smile. "Hey Ava, long time no see."

I frowned, "Yeah, you're right. Long time, no see. Although, I wish it was longer time no see." I respond, curtly.

"I see you haven't changed." He remarks, smirking.

God, I hated that smirk. I feign a laugh, ready to snap back with a snarky comment, when I felt someone pull me away. My glare softens when I realize it was none other than a comrade of mine, Aiden. I feel my shoulders slouch with relief, and I neglect to finish my conversation with Roy.

"Aiden! What are you doing here?" I exclaim.

Aiden beams with radiance as he responds, "Came to watch the game of course...and by the look on your face, I can tell you haven't read my text message."

My smile grows, once I meet his vibrant brown eyes, but it doesn't last long. The realization hits me, when I see that he is wearing his soccer uniform, and my smile fades.

"What message? Don't tell me I missed your—" I abruptly stop, pulling my phone from my back pocket to read his message.

"Oh my gosh Aiden! I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't mean to. I was catching up on sleep. I'm so, so sorry." I quickly apologize.

Aiden runs a hand through his hair, laughing. "Aren't you always?" He teases. "It seems you slept through it, but it's okay, I forgive you."

"This is the first and last time, I swear." I promise.

"Yeah, yeah." He waves his hand at me.

Aiden lowers his voice, afraid someone would hear him. "By the way, you're welcome."

"For what?"

"For pulling you away from your quarrel with Cantrell." Aiden clarifies.

"What quarrel?" I scoff.

"Whatever. You were about to insult him." Aiden points out.

"I was not about to insult him!" I retort, knowing I was lying.

"Please. We both know you were. Besides, I thought you were over that whole thing." Aiden says.

"Girls are not wired like boys. We don't forgive and forget." I stress.

"What is your problem with Cantrell anyway?" Aiden asks, curiosity in his tone. "What did he do to make you hate him so much?"

"I don't hate him. Hate is a strong word." I declare.

"Well, you certainly don't like him." Aiden says, wearing a humorless expression. "Like at all."

"I'll admit, I strongly dislike him." I state, sneaking a glance toward the field.

"You're on the verge of hating him." Aiden points out.

"You don't know what it's like to have your best friend change from one day to the next. I don't like the person he's become." I admit.

"I thought I was your best friend." Aiden said, sporting his puppy dog expression.

That's all he got from what I told him? It amazed me how much attention Aiden paid to my answers to his questions.

"You are my best friend. He is irrelevant, so can we please focus on what's important here? Let's go watch Ben's game." I suggest, and Aiden nods.

He starts to walk towards the bleachers, and I walk alongside him, playfully pushing him with my shoulder. We choose a spot in the first row of the bleachers, awaiting the blow of the whistle from the referee. My eyes were drawn to Roy though, thinking of Aiden's former statement, What did he do to make you hate him so much?

The truth was I didn't hate Roy, because hate was a powerful word. As terrible of a person Roy was now, he was once the most important person in my life. And the good heart in me wouldn't wish the worst on anyone, even on him.

Roy and I were destined to be friends since birth, before we could define what friendship was. Our parents met in the their young adult years, during their rocker phase in the late 80s, and their friendship never wavered since. My three brothers became friends with his, so it was only logical Roy and I'd become friends. And we did, become friends—best friends. He became my rock, the person I could rely on for just about anything, until he wasn't.

High school rolled around, drifting us apart like a tsunami barricading its way into our relationship. One day he was my keeper of secrets and the next, he was unrecognizable, a guy who replaced me for a higher status on the social ladder. And with that came betrayal in its worse form, breaking me to pieces that I had yet to mend.

Sophomore year of high school, Roy became my enemy of sorts. He gracefully fell into the popular category, driving fame towards him with his charisma—charisma that would knock Romeo to the ground. With his natural good looks, and undeniable coolness, people were drawn to him, worshipped the guy as if he deserved to walk on gold. But even a small part of me had to admit, maybe our friendship was doomed from the start.

I wasn't sure what category I fell into, but I didn't go through high school unnoticed. Our town was small enough for everyone to know of each other, even if it wasn't personally. Even then, I was picky about choosing the people to associate myself with. I had a small circle of friends, real friends who stuck by me even after we graduated high school. Friends that made me forget about him, until days like these when I had to face the enemy.

But ending our friendship, came with dire consequences, an outcome that would affect our families. Instead of hurting everyone, we both came to an unspoken agreement, one where we both created a sham friendship for their sake. We've been at it for years, and no one seemed to suspect a thing. Sometimes I'll catch his infamous smirk, or hear his corny dad jokes, and I want to apologize then and there. But it wasn't my place to beg for forgiveness, when I did nothing wrong. I still hold on to that spark of hope that he'll drop to his knees to express his regret, but hope is for suckers.

And Roy is a whirlwind that keeps sucking me back into our past. A past I'd like to expunge into a black hole. I've fought valiantly to keep myself above water, but with one look at him, I'm pulled back into the violent waves that was him.