Ghost Of You (A Novella)

Chapter Twenty-Three (REWRITTEN)

Eight o'clock and no Avery.

The sun was beginning to set, the pink and purple hues the last shred of daylight before the world was engulfed in gloom, exactly like Sebastian felt. He stared at the bonfire, hearing but not really listening to the lyrics that blasted from the surrounding speakers. Red and orange flames danced to the beat, rising and falling with the musical timbre. Though Avery had not promised she would attend his party, she seemed eager to accept the invitation... or had he read that completely wrong?

Chase silently handed him a heaping plate of grilled hotdogs, fully aware that his best friend was not having a great time. His only gesture of empathy was giving Sebastian food—the dude had an appetite the size of a mountain and it had always been a consoling action in the past. They spent a good amount of their lives laying waste to the refrigerator when it came to the mysterious behaviors of the female species.

But Avery was there.

However, every time she went to take a step towards Sebastian, she backpedaled, entirely unsure of how to approach him. Instead, she hid in the shadows of the porch, watching him from afar. When he finally turned and headed toward the house, she stopped overthinking it and went with a line she had used once before, "Fancy meeting you here."

There was no sunrise that could ever match his smile, "Right? Who would have thought?" Somewhere, in the deep recesses of his brain, a light flickered, tickling his memory bank. This conversation, like so many others with Avery, felt rather familiar. "Fashionably late, I see," he squinted his eyes, forcing them not to rake over her body like a pathetic creep. This was the first time he had seen her in street clothes instead of scrubs. Actually, now that he thought about it, that wasn't true. He remembered paint-stained t-shirts and shorts that were too short showcasing her long, beautiful legs—

"Well, ya know, I did have more important things to do..." she joked, knowing he wouldn't take her words to heart.

He didn't, but he had to make a show of sniffing away his fake tears nonetheless. It was just who he was. "And that is just a lousy thing to say, Avery Swartz."

Instantly searching to her right and then her left, behind her and around him, Sebastian scratched his head, confused. Had she lost something? Had she been here long enough to lose something? He didn't think so. "What are you looking for?"

"You needed a tissue, right?" There was something about her fraudulent innocence that stirred a longing desire within him. He had to touch her. He was going to touch her.

He crept closer with a determined look, "Oh? It be like that, huh?" She squealed as he charged, chasing her around the yard but his strides were wider than her's. Avery hadn't stood a chance. He quickly snagged her, bringing her to the ground and making sure to cushion the blow with his own body.

Immediately very conscious of their erotic position, Avery froze, her mind scrambling for a way to ease the awkwardness of his scorching gaze.

Sebastian was less concerned about the situation, the butterflies leaving his stomach and venturing toward his groin. He pushed away the blonde hair that fell over her cheek, pulling it lightly through his hands and down the ends. "Avery," he said, his eyes finally choosing to look at her instead of his fist, "I'm going to kiss you now."

But the sudden sound of chaos that erupted from the front yard made Sebastian a liar. His head dropped to the ground and he groaned in frustration—he knew that nasally, grating voice anywhere and he would not allow that psycho to crash his party.

Not now, not ever.

"I need to take care of something real quick, but we're finishing this after. Bet," he vowed, unashamed.

Accompanied by weak legs and a burning core, Avery scrambled off him. Following his storming figure around the house, he laced her fingers between his and led her to the driveway.

With the party in full swing, cars lined the street, bumper to bumper. Sebastian was a little remorseful he hadn't socialized with all the people who had sacrificed their night to spend celebrating his triumphant return from the jaws of death but Chase had advertised free beer so he doubted any of these attendees were that hung-up on his rudeness.

"No one wants you here, Gina," Chase crossed his arms over his chest, thoroughly irritated they were still doing this song and dance. What was it going to take for this chick just to go away? He would gladly pay it, whatever the cost.

Sebastian stepped beside him with Avery in tow, "You need to leave." He didn't know what else to say, nothing he did seemed to make it clear enough that he wasn't interested. Maybe his blossoming relationship with Avery would do the trick.

As soon as Gina's eyes narrowed at their clasped hands, Avery loosened her grip, feeling as though she had committed the most atrocious of sins. Sebastian only tightened his—Gina was not going to dictate his love life. Also, her hand was really soft and he liked that, but that was neither here nor there.

Her eyes remained glued to her ex-boyfriends misplaced hand, "Are you trying to make me jealous now?"

Chase scoffed, bless his soul, "No one is trying to make you anything, Gina. It's over. It's been over for a long time—eight months to be exact! You need to move on."

"I just want to talk," she pleaded.

"I don't," Sebastian replied, firmly. There was nothing to talk about. She did what she did and they broke up, simple as that.

Chase clutched his shoulder, "'Bastian, man. If it'll make her go away faster, just let her talk. I'm losing my buzz." He doubted that would make her leave, but he hoped greatly.

"Alone," Gina hissed.

Sebastian wanted to laugh, and not because he found this predicament funny in any way, "Not happening." Anything she had to say, she could say in front of everyone, including Avery. He wasn't about to keep her in the dark.

"But why? We had—"

"Had," Sebastian threw up his hands in vexation. "Past tense. As in, once but not anymore. As in don't call, don't email, don't fax, don't write, and definitely don't visit. Ever. I don't want you."

"Babe—"

Sebastian gagged, "No." That pet name made him want to puke, especially coming from her. He had had enough now. "Someone call the cops," he instructed the gathering crowd, relieved when a woman with a buzz cut and a beer in her fist pulled out her phone.

A can of half-filled coke came out of assemblage, soaring past Chase and hitting Gina's hip. She stumbled backwards, insulted, but mostly mortified by such a grievous act. As the party-goers grew louder and more volatile, she finally decided to tuck tail and run, making sure to leave burnt rubber in her wake.

However, the second Sebastian looked at Avery, he knew the damage had already been done.