Chapter 10
Avery POV
Sparkle steps between us again, obstructing my view as if sensing my turmoil. Her thick fur brushes against my side as I lean into her, trying to steady the ache in my chest. It's like a storm lives there. Like my ribs are struggling to contain the way my heart crashes against them.
To pretend I'm unbothered—when all I want is to throw myself into his arms, bury my face into the crook of his neck, feel his arms wrap around me again—it's so hard.
So damn hard.
I grip the necklace around my throat, pressing it close. It's really just a silver chain with two things hanging from it: a plain silver ring, and a small, worn rectangular metal flash drive. They're scratched and dull from age, but to me, they're priceless.
Because they're all I have left.
Earlier today, Elias asked me something. His voice was gentle, but persistent.
"What was it about him, Avery? What made you fall in love with him?"
There are a million reasons. A million little kindnesses. A million looks and laughs and late-night whispers.
But the first moment? The first time I felt it?
I remember that like it happened just yesterday.
---
April 6, 2016
Jace was searching for his best friend. He hadn't seen Avery in the cafeteria. Not at lunch. Not during chores. Nowhere.
And it was starting to worry him.
Avery was already tiny—barely tall enough to reach the cabinets without a chair—and lately, he'd been skipping meals. After the soccer game earlier, Jace felt guilt gnawing at his chest. Avery couldn't even kick the ball properly, had tripped more than once, and ended up with scraped knees and flushed cheeks. The other boys had laughed, jeered.
Jace remembered them whispering that maybe Avery wasn't around anymore because he was embarrassed.
They weren't kind about it.
Jace hadn't defended him the way he should have.
Now, all he wanted was to find him.
He knew where to look.
The old chapel.
It was barely used anymore—a forgotten stone building that creaked in the wind and echoed with ghosts. Behind the angel statue and against the moss-covered wall, there was a narrow opening, a crawl space Avery had found months ago. He liked to hide there. Said it was the only place that felt quiet enough to breathe.
Climbing in through the side window, Jace tiptoed through the moonlit aisle. Shadows spilled across the pews and floors, wrapping the space in a hush. The only light came from the fractured stained glass, throwing blues and reds across the worn stone tiles.
He found the angel statue and sat beside it.
"Avery," he called softly.
Silence.
"I know you're in there."
Still nothing.
"Are you sad you weren't good at the game?" Jace asked gently. "I mean, with a bit of practice, you could get better."
He heard a sniffle. Then a muffled voice.
"I'm not mad about the stupid game," Avery whispered. "Go away. Leave me alone."
Jace didn't move.
"No."
They sat in silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the wind pressing against the chapel windows.
Avery's voice returned, quiet and unsure.
"I'm weird."
Jace smiled faintly. "I'm weird too."
"No," Avery whispered. "Not like that. I'm really weird. I'm not like the other boys. I've tried to blend in, Jace. I hate it."
His voice cracked.
"I hate it so much. I don't want to play stupid ball. I don't want to cut my hair short. I don't want to pretend. I—I..."
He hesitated, unable to say it.
"I'm different."
Jace tilted his head, listening.
"That's fine. I don't like ball either," he said.
A small, choked laugh echoed from the shadows.
Avery sounded like he couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or scream.
"I mean... I want to feel pretty. I want to play with dolls, play dress-up. Do you remember that dumb fairytale? About the prince and his knight?"
"The one where they save the princess from the dragon?"
"Yeah... but I never wanted to be the prince. I wanted to be the princess. And I hate myself for it. Sister Ann said people like me are going to hell. That we're wrong. That I'm wrong. I want to be normal, Jace. But I hate it. I hate myself..."
Jace was quiet. Thoughtful.
"So you want to be a girl? Like on TV?" he asked.
Avery hesitated. "No. I don't think so. I just like pretty things. And I want to feel pretty. That's all, I guess."
Jace nodded slowly, even if he didn't fully understand.
"Avery," he said, turning toward the statue. "You're my best friend. I don't know if the sisters are right about hell or whatnot, but I know one thing. You're Avery. And Avery is my best friend. Doesn't matter to me if Avery is a princess or a prince. Boy or girl."
He paused.
"Avery is just that. My Avery."
There was silence.
Then the sound of movement—scuffling and the rustle of clothes. Slowly, cautiously, a red-eyed Avery crawled out from behind the statue, face tear-streaked.
Without a word, he threw himself into Jace's arms.
Jace held him tightly.
And never let go.
---
Why couldn't I move on?
Because for years, when I hated myself—when I looked in the mirror and wanted to scream—all I could think of was Jace.
That curly-haired fool. That stupid, brave boy.
When the world felt like it wanted to erase me, he made me feel seen.
He told me I didn't need to be a prince or a princess. I could just be me.
And that was enough.
I think I fell in love with him then.
Before I knew what love even was.
Because I didn't have a heart after that.
I gave it away to a boy who sat with me in silence under the wings of a crumbling angel and called me his.
His Avery.