Ava, My Daughter's Weird and Wonderful Friend
[All characters and situations depicted in this story exclusively involve people who are over 18 years of age.]
This world can be a confusing place. People often get lost trying to figure out how to make their way. I like to think I helped Ava. I know she certainly helped me.
Ava was an unusual girl. She was the type that doesn't typically get a second glance, and that was the way she wanted it. She hated drawing attention to herself. Ava and my youngest daughter, Anya, had been friends since nursery school. They bonded on their first day as 3-year-olds with a shared position at the front of the alphabet, and were nearly inseparable all through school. Although they turned out to be very different when it came to personality, interests, and experiences, through it all they remained improbable best friends.
Anya was popular and outgoing. Ava was shy and withdrawn, with almost no friends other than Anya. Although the girls had remained close, I hadn't seen Ava in 8 years. That's how long it had been since Anya's mother and I divorced and I moved out. But both girls were now 20 and fresh out of community college, ready to transfer to the university to complete their degrees. That was the reason for my reacquaintance with Ava. I live in a university town, the same one where the girls planned to finish school. Anya wanted to save money by living with Dad. Despite the fact that my small, older house has only two bedrooms, and it meant they would have to share, she wanted Ava to move in too as her roomate.
This plan meant a big change for me, but I was happy to go along. Things would definitely be more lively with two college girls under my roof! At 60, my life had settled into a bit of a dull routine that could frankly use some livening up. I had dated a little in the years after my divorce but never really developed a spark with anyone. More recently it hadn't really seemed worth the effort. So I wasn't worried about the girls throwing any kind of a wrench into my love life. Honestly, I was a lot more worried about my presence having a dampening effect on theirs.
Yes, I had some of those old school feelings of protectiveness, but above all I wanted my daughter to have fun, to be young, to experiment and have the real college experience. I knew sex was a big part of that. If my memory was any guide, maybe the best part. I had no illusions of her "saving it for marriage" or anything like that.
When the girls moved in, my first reaction to Ava was that she dressed like a Lesbian. Was she? I didn't know. I was reasonably sure Anya was not. Her mother had told me news of boyfriends and parties and the like. But of course that wasn't any reason why her friend might not be. Or they might even be bisexual. I'd heard that was an increasingly popular "thing" among today's college girls.
No, despite first impressions, Ava was not gay. She was not bisexual. As it turned out, in fact, that girl loved my cock more than any other woman I have ever known. But more about that later.
When I was young and inexperienced I dreamed of finding a girl like Ava, a girl who was truly beautiful, but somehow nobody had seen it until I came along. In those days, I never found that girl. Truth is, back then I was probably too shallow to notice any hidden gems around me. But experience has given me a little bit of wisdom and insight. It didn't take me long to notice a few of Ava's better qualities, and the more I learned, the more I was impressed.
Ava was quiet and shy, guarded around others, but when you got to know her she was also very warm, down-to-earth, and perceptive. She could be funny too, with a dry sense of humor unusual in a girl. She seemed insecure on the surface, but beneath it she had a strong underlying confidence and sense of herself. The insecurity and shyness was more a result of her feelings about other people, and uncertainty about how to navigate a world full of them and all the shit they are capable of.
Growing up, a lot of the people in her life weren't very nice to Ava. A lot of that was because of her parents. More about them later, too.
When it came to looks (once I got past the clothes), well I can't speak for anyone else, but to me her eyes were her most extraordinary feature. They were brown, and deep, so deep that it took no effort at all for me to get lost in them. I first noticed on the day the two girls moved in. We had just finished carrying in boxes and stopped for a lemonade. When Anya left for the bathroom, Ava leveled those eyes right at me.
"Dan, I just want to say thank you, sincerely, thank you for letting me move in here with you and Anya. It really means a lot to me. I'll be a good housemate. I promise. I know Anya said no rent, but I'll do chores, whatever you need. If you need me to do more, you just let me know. OK?"
"OK. I sure will." I gave the automatic reply because I could barely think. I was still feeling those eyes. There was real warmth in there, and more!. That soulful pair of deep brown eyes reached right into the middle of my chest and just grabbed me. I can't even specifically remember my ex-wife's eyes. I know they were hazel and I once thought they were very pretty, but I can't conjure up a picture of them in my mind. I can never forget Ava's. No matter where or when I can close my eyes and call up that picture of her very beautiful deep brown eyes.
Aside from her eyes, over those first few days I noticed she was much better looking than she seemed at first glance. Her lips were perfect, soft, full, and sensuous. She had a strong nose, not too big, but not the tiny button nose that girls so often think they want. She didn't like her nose, of course, but I thought it was very attractive. Her hair was wrong, not the 2-inch wide pink streak in the middle of all the dark brown. I didn't mind that, really. It was the cut and the way she wore it. That, along with her nose and the reading glasses she sometimes used probably went a long way toward explaining how and why some clueless teenage boy hadn't already snagged her, in spite of her otherwise hiding herself away.
Yes, you could say I thought she was beautiful. And as time went on I don't mean just the kind of beauty that gets my dick hard—although she definitely had that too—I mean something deeper. She had a shell she put up. It was like her shyness and awkwardness and lack of style were just a front, an excuse so she didn't have to deal with people when she didn't want to. Underneath that shell there was a beautiful person.
Ava didn't know how to flirt, either, how to "play the game." Socially, she just tunneled in on herself, while saving a little space for Anya. Maybe that was part of her subconscious defense, because the closer she let you get, the more beautiful she seemed. She was the type of girl that, if she had a brother, would probably have ended up with one of his friends, and the guy would forever count himself lucky for locking her down before all the other guys caught on. But lucky for me she did not have a brother. In fact, she was an only child.
I remember Ava's mother from when the girls were little. She'd struck me as an old-fashioned southern girl, and more than just a bit of a flirt, in that old-school southern charm style. She knew how to turn it on and always seemed to be the center of attention, especially male attention. I admit I was a little bit charmed too, back in the day. She was pretty. But I could always see it for what it was, just an act she put on to make herself feel better. We never really socialized with them, just the occasional interaction through our girls. If we'd had more money or status I'm sure she would have put on the full court press to get in good with us, but we never had that kind of money.
Ava brought up her mother one day after we watched a movie together. The girls were remarking on how pretty they thought the lead actress was.
