Avery's neck and shoulders had immediately tensed when he'd heard a sound that could be someone's high heels on the floor but turned out to be a white cane of the sort carried by the blind. That was followed by a girl walking into the kitchen, and he'd been immediately thrown into a quandary. What should he do in this instance? Was he supposed to say something so she'd know he was here? He didn't want to feel like a creeper lurking in the semi-dark of the kitchen and staring at her. He should probably speak so he didn't scare her when she realized he was there. But maybe she wouldn't realize it. He'd stopped chewing, and he was sitting in complete silence, as always perched on the horns of a dilemma that would've probably been obvious to someone with more social graces than Avery had.
When she spoke to him, he automatically looked down at his plate as if to make sure a leftover goodie hadn't sneaked on there by mistake. Stupid. His cheeks colored a touch, but since she couldn't see him, it didn't bother him as much as it might have. "No," he replied, his voice soft. "I made a sandwich." Right, because she really cared what he was having to eat. As long as it wasn't the leftover party food, that was. He wondered if she'd been at the party. He hadn't looked at most people too directly while he'd been there, because he'd been too uncomfortable.