Chapter 11 — Monday, and the Weight of New Quests
Ethan's POV
Monday morning tasted like dust.
Not because my room was dirty (though it absolutely was), but because waking up after a weekend like that — a weekend with Ava — made everything else feel painfully normal. My alarm buzzed at 7:15, a grating, awful sound, and for a few long seconds I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to process that real life was… happening again.
I rolled out of bed slowly, ribs still a little stiff but usable, and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The quiet of the apartment felt suddenly too big again. No Ava's laughter. No picnic basket. No sun-warmed blankets. Just the subtle hum of the refrigerator and my own breathing.
And then—
A shimmer of blue light bloomed in the corner of my vision.
[SYSTEM UPDATE — QUEST COMPLETE]
Main Quest "Support Ava Outside the Hospital" — COMPLETED
Reward Granted: Beginner Guitar Skill
A soft warmth rolled through my fingertips, like faint static, and then a subtle weight settled behind my thoughts — muscle memory I didn't remember earning. The knowledge of chords, finger positions, strumming patterns. Beginner level, sure, but real.
I blinked.
"Great," I muttered to myself. "Another skill I have to pretend I didn't magically get."
But before I could say anything else, the system wasn't done.
Another pulse of blue.
Daily Quest Generated:
Tell Ava one honest insecurity.
Reward: +5 to a chosen stat
My stomach tightened instantly.
Great. Vulnerability. My favorite.
Before I could complain, a deeper glow spread behind the notification — calmer, steadier.
New Main Quest: Support Ava at Her Upcoming Track Meet
Objective: Provide emotional support, reduce stress, and ensure she feels seen
Time Limit: 6 days
Reward: Epiphany Event — "The Perfect Song"
(One-time creative transcendence, resulting in a flawless emotional composition)
I inhaled sharply.
A perfect song?
A track meet for her?
The system had never given me something this… intimate. It felt less like a game now and more like a push toward something real, something that could crack open the ground beneath me if I wasn't careful.
I stood there for a long moment, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Honest insecurity," I mumbled. "Yeah. Easy."
It wasn't. At all.
But the system blinked out and left me in silence with my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.
ETHAN L. RIVERS — PERSONAL PROFILE
Strength: 6
Intelligence: 9
Agility: 7
Charm: 16
Luck: 7
Confidence: 10
Derived: Beginner Perception
Skills: Beginner Social Insight | Intermediate Cooking | Beginner Singing |
Traits: Soulful Gaze | Gentle Touch
Affection Levels: Ava Monroe — 49 / ???
Quests: Main Quest Active | Daily Quest Active
Everything felt too heavy suddenly.
Too real.
I grabbed my backpack, shoved in a notebook, a pen, and the leftover sandwiches from yesterday (because I am a gremlin who eats day-old picnic food), and headed out the door.
****************
Morning Classes hit harder than I expected.
Not physically — my ribs were healing, the bruises fading into ugly yellow shadows —but mentally. Emotionally. Socially.
The minute I stepped onto campus, my stomach tightened. Not because I feared the noise or the crowds or the workload.
But because, after everything that had happened, school felt… unreal. Like stepping into a movie set of someone else's life.
The last time I was here, I'd been the invisible guy slipping into lecture halls unnoticed. The background character. The quiet one. The kid who ate lunch alone, answered when called on, then disappeared the moment class ended.
Campus always looked different after a weekend that changed something in your life. The same sidewalks. The same crowds. The same stupid bike guy who almost ran over a squirrel.
But it all felt sharper, brighter, more awake.
Maybe it was me.
My first class was at 8:00 — Intro to Psych, which I mostly took because everyone said it was easy. The lecture hall was half-full when I arrived. I slipped into a back row seat, head down, hoodie up, doing my best impression of a cryptid.
People filtered in.
People talked.
People laughed.
I was… not part of any of it.
I scrolled through my phone, stopping every few seconds because I kept thinking Ava might text. She didn't. Not yet. She had class too.
At 9:30 my second class started — a writing elective with twelve people, all of them bright-eyed and painfully enthusiastic about metaphors. I sat near the door, taking notes, pretending I wasn't replaying the picnic in my mind like some kind of lovesick idiot.
Her laugh.
Her smile.
Her face when she saw the blanket.
Her saying she'd think about me.
My chest felt too tight.
When the class ended, I packed up and stepped out into the hall, feeling strangely restless.
My phone buzzed at precisely 11:03.
Ava :
Hey… are you free for lunch? Off campus? Quiet place?
If you can, I mean.
My stomach did a somersault and then threw itself off a cliff.
Me:
Yeah. Just tell me where to meet you.
Ava :
There's a little café two streets down from campus.
I'll send the pin.
Can you meet in 20?
Me:
I'll be there.
I shoved my phone into my pocket and started toward the main path. I could feel my heartbeat against my ribs — steady, excited, nervous.
Daily Quest: Tell Ava an honest insecurity.
Yeah. I'd deal with that.
Maybe.
Eventually.
I turned the corner toward the main quad just as someone shouted my name.
"Ethan? Ethan—wait!"
I froze.
A girl jogged toward me, messy ponytail swaying, backpack bouncing against her hip. She wore a loose sweater tucked into jeans, and her round glasses slid down her nose with every step.
Cassie.
From my Tuesday/Thursday afternoon literature class.
She stopped in front of me, breathless, hands on her knees for a second before standing straight.
"Oh my god," she said. "You're alive."
I blinked. "Um… yeah. Pretty sure."
She slapped my arm lightly. "Don't joke! I heard you got hit by a van and died! And something about Ava Monroe was seen crying over your corpse!"
Of course the rumors spread.
"Almost," I corrected. "Ava was gonna get nailed. I shoved her out of the way so I took the hit instead."
Cassie stared at me, wide-eyed and horrified.
"You—what? Ethan, that's—why didn't you tell anyone? You just vanished for a week!"
"I was in the hospital," I said plainly.
She grabbed my wrist before thinking about it — surprising, warm, concerned.
"Are you okay? Like… actually okay? I heard your heart stopped. Like you were 'dead'!"
Christ. Rumors got worse by the minute.
"It stopped twice actually," I corrected. "But, for less than a minute, I'm fine now. Promise."
Cassie didn't look convinced.
"You better tell me everything," she said firmly. "All of it. Over drinks. I'm not letting you brush this off."
My eyebrows shot up. "Drinks?"
"Yes, drinks." She crossed her arms. "You owe me a massive explanation."
I hesitated — I had lunch plans. But she looked genuinely worried. And I didn't exactly have a large social circle.
"Alright," I said. "Sometime this week?"
She brightened instantly. "Good. Text me. And seriously… I'm glad you're okay."
Her smile was warm. Genuine.
And then she hurried off to class, leaving me standing there feeling… lighter. Like the world wasn't just me and Ava and the system. Like I had other threads in my life too.
But Ava was waiting.
So I headed toward the café.
**************
The café she chose was tucked between a florist and a tiny used-book shop, its sign faded and its windows full of hanging plants. Quiet. Warm. Soft music drifting through the open door.
A perfect off-campus hideaway.
Ava sat at a small wooden table near the window, nursing a glass of iced tea. When she saw me through the glass, her face lit up — subtle but unmistakable.
That little smile hit me like a van. Well actually I was hit by a van so maybe not but it was stunning.
She waved me inside.
I sat across from her, my heart doing its usual stupid somersaults.
"You came," she said softly.
"You asked," I replied. "Hard to say no to that."
Her cheeks warmed, just a touch. She looked away, biting the inside of her lip in that way she did when she was trying not to smile too much.
We ordered, though neither of us cared much about food. She got a chicken panini. I got a bowl of soup because I needed something to do with my hands.
For a minute we just talked — about classes, about weekend homework, about how she somehow ended up helping her roommate fix a leaky shower at 1 a.m. last night.
Then the conversation softened. Slowed. And she set her glass down with a quiet little sigh.
"Can I ask something kind of… personal?" she said.
That flutter in my chest again.
"Yeah. Of course."
She twirled the straw in her drink, not meeting my eyes.
"Do you… ever feel scared? Going back to school. After everything. After the accident. I mean… yesterday was so peaceful. And today just felt… loud. I guess."
My breath caught.
She wasn't asking academically.
She was asking the way she always asked — indirectly, carefully, like she wasn't sure if she deserved to express her own feelings.
I leaned forward a little.
"Yeah," I said softly. "I felt it this morning. Everything felt… too normal. Like the world shouldn't go on like nothing happened."
Ava exhaled shakily — relief, or maybe gratitude.
"Exactly," she whispered.
Her eyes met mine across the small table.
Steady.
Vulnerable.
Daily Quest Reminder:
Tell Ava an honest insecurity.
My heart thudded.
This was the moment. I felt it in my chest, in the air between us, in the way her fingers lightly trembled against her glass.
I swallowed hard.
"Ava," I said quietly. "Can I be honest with you too?"
Her eyes widened just a little. "Always."
I inhaled once, shaky.
"Sometimes…" I started, voice rough. "Sometimes I worry I'm not good enough for someone like you. Like you're the popular pretty type. and I'm the loner loser type so I feel awkward when we hang in public sometimes, like I'm dragging you down by you associating with me" I let out one of my darker thoughts out as I spoke in single rushed exhale.
She froze.
Not shocked.
Not confused.
Her expression wasn't cold, it was just soft — impossibly soft — her whole expression folding inward in a way that made my chest ache.
"Ethan…" she breathed. "Why would you ever think that?"
I gave a small helpless laugh. "Because you're… you. You're talented, smart, kind. People love you. And I'm just some guy who got hit by a van and got lucky enough that you kept visiting."
Her lips parted, like I'd physically struck her.
"That's not—" she stopped, chest rising sharply. "You don't… you don't see the way I see you?"
I blinked. "How do you see me?"
She stared at her hands for a long moment, unable to answer, shoulders trembling slightly.
And that itself was an answer.
The system pulsed softly.
[Daily Quest Complete]
Reward: +2 Confidence
Warmth rushed down my spine, steadying my breathing, grounding me. But I was more focused on Ava, on the way she was looking at me.
She seemed to be overwhelmed with guilt and I hated seeing her like that. Honestly I've stood her that it wasn't her fault, but I know she's probably still blaming herself about me ending up in the hospital... She was just to stubborn and kind to not feel guilty.
She swallowed.
"I'm… really glad you came today," she whispered.
"Me too."
We lingered long after the plates were cleared.
The atmosphere has shifted, not uncomfortable but more open, like there was one less wall between us. One more thing that we shared.
She told me about how loud hallways still make her tense.
I told her about how crowded lecture halls made me feel out of place.
She talked about expectations.
I talked about feeling invisible.
We didn't fix anything.
We didn't pretend to.
We just… existed. Together.
Her knee brushed mine under the table once — accidental, soft — and she didn't pull away.
Neither did I.
At one point a breeze drifted through the open door and brushed her hair across her cheek, and without thinking I reached forward and gently moved a strand behind her ear.
She froze.
I froze.
Her breath trembled.
I withdrew my hand quickly, pulse hammering.
"Sorry—"
"No—don't apologize," she said too quickly. Too intensely. "I… I didn't mind."
Silence followed.
Not awkward.
Just charged.
Like the air before rain.
Eventually she checked her phone and inhaled sharply.
"I should head to class," she whispered, reluctant.
"Yeah," I said, standing as she stood.
But when she reached the door, she hesitated. Turned back. Stepped close — too close — eyes flicking to my lips before she caught herself.
Her voice was soft.
"I really… really liked seeing you here today."
My chest tightened.
"Me too," I said, almost whispering.
Then she left in a hurry, cheeks flushed, hair bouncing, clearing her throat loudly like she was trying to hide how flustered she was.
And I stayed there, staring at the door she disappeared through, feeling like the ground under me had shifted permanently.
The walk back to afternoon class felt unreal.
Every step felt like I was still sitting across from her, still feeling her knee brush mine, still hearing her say she liked today.
The blue shimmer returned faintly.
[Main Quest Progress Updated]
Support Ava at Her Track Meet
Progress: 12%
Six days.
Six days until whatever this became… became more real.
Six days until the system tried to turn emotion into a reward.
I wasn't thinking about the song.
I wasn't thinking about stats.
I was thinking about the way Ava looked at me when she said I didn't see myself the way she saw me.
And for the first time…
I wanted to.