Sweet Nothing: Novel

“You okay?” Deb asked. “Say the word, and I’ll be over. Quinn snores, anyway.”


“No,” I said, sniffing. I looked out the window at the green beast parallel parked in the street in front of my building. “I’m going to find him.”

We hung up, and I put on my navy-blue puffy coat and boots. I grabbed the keys with the heart key ring Josh had bought for me and a scarf, wrapping it around my neck while I jogged down the stairs.

I passed my car and shoved my hands in my pockets, watching my breath puff out in front of me while I walked the three blocks to Josh’s building. His car wasn’t there, but I buzzed him anyway and waited. He didn’t answer.

I waited on the porch until my teeth began to chatter, and then started down the steps.

“Hey, Avery,” Cinda said, passing by. “Did you lose your key?”

I cringed. “Gave it back.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing back to his empty parking space. “I don’t think he’s home.”

“Do you know where he went? You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know Josh, and if you gave back your key, I’m sure he’s not happy about it. He probably said something stupid, am I right?”

I shrugged. “We both said something stupid.”

She smiled. “I bet he’d want me to tell you where he is.” She pulled her mouth to the side. “But I don’t know. I’m sorry. You can come in and wait at my place until he gets home.”

“That’s okay. Thanks, Cinda.”

I trotted down the stairs, running all the way to my parking spot.

The Dodge growled to life when I twisted the ignition, and I pulled away from the curb, turning toward St. Ann’s. Corner Hole was just a half-mile from the hospital, and that was the only place I could think Josh would be if he wasn’t home or at Quinn’s.

The Dodge grumbled before I killed the ignition and lights. There were only a few cars left in parking lot, including Josh’s. I was suddenly nervous.

What are you doing, Avery?

I looked forward and pulled on the lever. I loved him, and we were going to have to weather some bullshit. We all had garbage to pack away. I couldn’t expect Josh to do a one-eighty and maintain perfection at all times to boot. That wasn’t fair.

Gravel crunched under my boots as I walked toward the brick veneer of Corner Hole. A fluffy white flake fell on my nose, and I looked up, seeing a million matching pieces of frozen sky pouring from the black above. I closed my eyes and smiled, hoping Josh would come outside with me so we could share our first real snowfall together.

I pulled open the door and walked in, smelling stale beer and cigarette smoke. The golden glow of the jukebox in the corner was the main source of light besides the lights strung above the bar. I smiled, thinking of the night Josh had made me stop hating Christmas.

Only a few men were sitting at the bar, none of them Josh. I sat on the middle stool, watching a new bartender washing a glass with a white cloth. He walked over to me, his pecs flexing under his tight black V-neck. His eyebrows were perfectly manicured, so when he leaned over, pretending to flirt, I didn’t take him seriously.

“You’re new,” I said.

“Yes.”

“Avery.”

He smiled. “Oh, you’re Avery. Happy birthday.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Thanks.”

“Jesse,” he said.

I placed a twenty-dollar bill flat on the counter. “Here’s your tip. I just want a Diet Coke.”

“Keep ’em coming?” he said with a smirk.

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