005: Back to reality

Avery's POV

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the dim light.

It was creeping in through the gap in the curtain, pale and grey, the kind of light that meant it was not quite morning yet but getting close. The kind that meant I had stayed way too long.

The second thing I noticed was Liam's arm across my waist.

I lay still for a moment and looked at him. He was on his side facing me, eyes closed, breathing slow and easy. In sleep he looked younger somehow. Less guarded. His dark hair was a complete mess and his jaw was soft and I had absolutely no business noticing any of it.

I slid carefully out from under his arm.

He shifted slightly but didn't wake. I held my breath until he settled, then gathered my things from the floor as quietly as I could. The wig was still on. The mask was still in place. I was still Scarlett, technically, and Scarlett did not stand around in motel rooms watching strangers sleep.

I found a small notepad on the nightstand and a pen beside it.

I wrote: ‘Thanks for last night. — S.’

Then I let myself out.

The street outside was empty and cold and the sky was the deep blue of almost-dawn. I stood on the pavement for a second with my bag over my shoulder and the night air on my face, and then I pulled out my phone and called a cab.

While I waited I sat on the curb by the motel entrance and started the transformation in reverse. The mask came off first and went into the bottom of my bag. Then the wig, folded and tucked away. I shook my real hair loose and ran my fingers through it. I pulled my hoodie and jeans out from the bottom of my bag, changed right there on the curb without caring who saw. Good thing nobody was passing by. I stuffed the costume in, and by the time the cab pulled up I was just Avery Nash again.

Tired. Achy. Oddly at peace.

I climbed in and pulled out a makeup wipe.

"Where to?" the driver said, not looking up from his phone.

I gave him my address.

My phone buzzed in my hand as I cleaned off the stage makeup. I looked at the screen and felt the peace evaporate immediately.

I had twelve missed calls and a good number of voicemails. Four from Jade. Eight from Colton.

I stared at Colton's name for a long second.

Then I pressed play on his first voicemail.

"Avery, where are you? I've been calling for hours. I know what you saw looked bad but if you would just let me explain—"

I stopped it.

Looked bad? I pressed play on the next one.

"I know you're upset. I get it. But you can't just disappear. It's your birthday and I had reservations. They were very expensive. Please just call me back."

I stared out the window at the dark empty streets sliding past.

He had reservations.

He had been in bed with Brianna Holloway three hours before my birthday dinner and he was more upset that I missed the reservations.

I deleted every single one of his messages without listening to the rest.

Then I pressed play on Jade's first voicemail.

"Hey, it's me. I know you're probably having the most amazing dinner right now and I feel terrible for calling, so ignore this if you're busy. I just…something happened today and I didn't want to dump it on you on your birthday but I also really need to talk to you, so call me when you get home. Doesn't matter what time. I mean it. Love you."

I listened to it twice, then I pressed play on her second one.

"Okay it's midnight and you haven't called and I'm not going to pretend I'm not a little worried. Call me. Please. Happy birthday again by the way, I hope the dinner was perfect. Call me."

I typed her a message.

‘I'm fine. I'm sorry for not calling since last night. I'll come to you this morning. Don't go anywhere.’

I put the phone away and looked out the window and thought about Liam sleeping with his arm across the empty space where I had been, and I pressed my lips together and didn't think about it again.

I pushed open the front door as quietly as I could.

The kitchen light was on.

My mum was at the table. She was still in yesterday's clothes, which meant she hadn't slept, which meant she had been thinking. A mug of coffee sat in front of her that she clearly hadn't touched.

"Mum." I dropped my bag by the door. "You didn't sleep."

"I was waiting for you." She looked up and her eyes moved over my face, checking. She had been doing that for years, checking, like she could see through whatever version of me walked through the door. "How was work? The bar kept you late again."