Chapter 16 — Coffee With Cassie
Ethan's POV
If Tuesday had been warm, Wednesday was peaceful and today, Thursday morning felt… heavier.
Not physically. My ribs didn't hurt as much. My legs weren't weak. Even the bruises had faded from purple to a dying yellow. But something else lingered — a tightness under my chest, psychological, emotional, or just plain stupid.
I blamed lunch with Ava.
The way she'd looked at me yesterday — eyes soft, voice soft, shoulders soft — it still echoed in the back of my head. The way she asked about Cassie. The way she tensed when she saw the message. The way she relaxed when she learned I'd never had a girlfriend. The way she couldn't hide her relief.
And the worst part?
The way she said "Good."
That single word had been replaying in my brain like a broken record.
It meant something.
I just didn't know what — or maybe I was too scared to admit I did.
I got ready for my afternoon classes like a zombie — pulled on a hoodie, washed my face, grabbed my backpack, checked my phone for messages—
No new notifications.
She hadn't texted good morning.
She always texted good morning.
I held my breath for a second too long, then shoved my phone into my hoodie pocket and tried to pretend I didn't notice.
By noon, I'd eaten half a granola bar, skimmed two pointless paragraphs from my sociology textbook, and zoned out for an entire lecture.
And then — right before my next class — my phone buzzed.
Cassie: Hey! Don't forget — coffee today :) meet outside the arts building?
Right.
Today was the "coffee."
Not a date.
Just coffee.
Probably.
Except nothing about Cassie texting little smiley faces felt casual.
My stomach sank, but I typed back:
Me: Sure. On my way.
I grabbed my stuff and walked.
Halfway across campus, the system flickered to life.
A soft blue pulse shimmered — subtle, not intrusive, but impossible to ignore.
[Side Quest Generated]
Objective: Discover Cassie's true reason for inviting you out.
Reward: Intermediate Guitar Skill
I blinked.
"What the hell," I muttered.
Guitar skill? Why guitar? First the singing skill, then the "Perfect song" reward for the main quest, and now guitar? At Intermediate as well, like cooking. nice I'll take it.
The panel faded without an answer.
Sometimes I hated the system. Sometimes I needed it. and sometimes it made everything make sense in a way that terrified me.
But this quest… wasn't surprising.
Because deep down, I already suspected Cassie had a reason.
I just didn't know what that reason was.
Not yet.
I made my way toward the arts building, trying not to overthink it. But when I turned the corner—
My breath legitimately caught.
Cassie stood beneath the shade of a maple tree, backlit by sunlight.
And she looked…
Cute.
Cute in a way that wasn't coincidence.
Cute in a way that was intentional.
Her hair — usually in a messy bun — was down today, soft and wavy around her shoulders. She wore a white cropped cardigan that hugged her figure, a pleated skirt that brushed mid-thigh, and knee socks that matched the outfit perfectly.
And she was fidgeting.
With her sleeve. With her hair. With the strap of her tote bag.
She looked nervous.
Like she'd been waiting for me — not casually — but counting the minutes.
When her eyes landed on me, she brightened instantly.
"Ethan!" she said, waving slightly.
I walked up, trying to ignore the fact that passing guys literally slowed down to look at her.
"Hey," I said, clearing my throat. "You look… different."
She smiled — cheeks warming.
"Good different?"
"Uh—yeah. Definitely. You look beautiful" I complimented. Having a sister I've learned that for girls you have to complement the smallest amount of effort... or they pout.
Her smile widened. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Ready?"
"Yeah," I said. "Lead the way."
We walked side-by-side toward Crescent Café — a small off-campus spot popular with art majors and quiet types.
Cassie chatted as we walked — little things about class, a weird conversation she overheard on the bus, how the weather was finally behaving.
She talked more than usual.
But something felt… off. Like she was trying too hard to fill silence. Like she was nervous about silence.
By the time we got our drinks and sat by the window, I knew something was definitely up.
And the system knew it too.
[Side Quest Reminder: Discover Cassie's True Motivation]
I stared at her over my cup.
Cassie stared back.
Then she took a breath.
And her composure crumbled just a little.
"So…" she said, fingers tightening around her latte, "how — um — are you? After everything?"
"I'm okay," I said honestly. "Sore. Tired. But okay."
"Good."
Then a pause.
A long pause.
Her eyes flicked down for a moment, then back up.
"You know," she said softly, "I've been meaning to talk to you since the accident."
"Really?"
She nodded. "Yeah… I just… needed to make sure you were really okay first."
The tone was different. Softer. Intentional.
She took a breath, then looked away — cheeks pink, lower lip caught between her teeth.
Here it comes.
She's going to tell me why she invited me.
She hesitated — long enough that I was about to say something — and then…
Something shifted.
Her voice dipped into something almost confessional.
"Ethan… can I be honest with you?"
My heart thumped. "Yeah. Always."
She looked down at her drink and murmured:
"Before the accident… I already liked you."
I blinked.
Cassie kept talking — fast, rushed, like words she'd been holding in for too long were finally spilling out.
"I know it probably sounds stupid — I mean, we weren't super close or anything — but I always… I always thought you were cool. And kind. Even when you tried to hide it. And I liked studying with you, and you always remembered little things about me and—"
She cut herself off and hid her face behind her sleeve.
"I sound insane."
I stared.
Not because I was shocked she liked me. I mean I was.
But because the sincerity in her voice hit me like a punch.
Ethan from a month ago — the one who sat alone in the back of class, ate lunch behind the library, and didn't speak unless forced — had never imagined someone like Cassie would notice him.
Let alone like him.
And here she was confessing to him.
"Cassie," I said slowly, "you don't sound insane."
Her eyes peeked over her sleeve — round and nervous. "No?"
"No," I repeated. "...Just honest."
She relaxed — shoulders dropping as she let out a breath that seemed days old.
Then she looked out the window, voice low.
"But then the accident happened. And…"
Ah. There it was.
"Ava." I murmured,
Cassie nodded and continued, fingers tightening around her cup:
"And she saw you before I ever worked up the courage to do anything."
She swallowed.
"And she needed you. That's not her fault — seriously, it's not. She went through something traumatic. But suddenly you were talking to her every day. And she was visiting you every day. And she got to be there for you when I wasn't. And I—"
Her voice cracked almost imperceptibly.
"—felt like I lost my chance."
I stared.
She looked so small, so vulnerable, tugging nervously on the edge of her skirt.
Not jealous.
Not dramatic.
Just quietly heartbroken.
"Cassie…" I started, but she held up a hand gently.
"I'm not asking you to pick me," she whispered. "I'm not stupid. I see how she looks at you. And I see how you look at her, too."
My chest tightened painfully.
She offered a sad little smile.
"I invited you today because… I wanted one chance. Just one. To talk to you alone. To feel like I wasn't too late."
There it was.
The truth. The whole reason. The purpose behind this entire afternoon.
The system pulsed:
[Side Quest Complete]
Reward Granted: Intermediate Guitar Skill
A warmth flooded my mind — not overwhelming, just a quiet familiarity, like remembering a skill I'd once known.
Cassie didn't notice.
She was too busy staring at her hands.
I didn't know what to say.
I liked Cassie. I genuinely did.
But not the way she wanted.
Not anymore.
Not when Ava existed in my life like sunlight.
But hurting Cassie was the last thing I wanted.
"Cassie," I said gently, "I… really care about you. You're important to me. You always have been. I just—"
She gave a small, self-aware laugh.
"You don't like me like that."
I winced. "It's not that simple."
"It is," she said, smiling in a way that absolutely wasn't a smile. "But that's okay. I'm glad I told you."
Silence hung between us — soft, bittersweet.
Then she added quietly:
"Just promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Don't pull away from me now. Please. I still want to be in your life. Even if…"
Her voice faded.
I nodded. "I'm not going anywhere."
That made her smile — small but real.
"Good," she whispered. "Because I still like hanging out with you."
"Me too."
She relaxed at that, leaning back into her chair.
The heavy emotional storm slowly faded into something gentler.
Then she rolled her eyes playfully.
"And for the record," she added, flicking her skirt slightly, "I got dressed up today hoping you'd notice."
Heat shot up my neck.
"I… noticed."
She grinned. "Good."
We talked for almost another hour after that — about class, music, her art projects, my terrible taste in sandwiches — and the tension eased into something comfortable again.
Friendly.
Real.
When we finally stood to leave, she hesitated — then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.
A small, soft hug.
Not desperate. Not pleading. Just grateful.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For being kind."
I swallowed.
"You deserve kind."
She pulled back — eyes glossy but smiling.
"Go text Ava," she said teasingly. "She's probably spiraling by now."
I choked.
"What?? Why would she—"
Cassie patted my cheek like I was an idiot.
"Ethan," she said gently, "she likes you."
My stomach dropped to my ankles.
"I— I don't—"
"You do," Cassie cut in softly. "You just don't want to admit it."
We stepped out into the golden afternoon air together.
And she let me go with grace.
"See you tomorrow," she said, waving.
"Yeah," I breathed. "See you."
She walked away — confident, bright, beautiful.
And I stood there, heart pounding in my chest, with the system quietly humming behind my ribs and Ava's smile blazing in my memory.
Cassie was right.
Completely, undeniably right.
And I wasn't ready for what that meant.
Not yet.
But the truth buzzed under my skin all the same:
Ava mattered.
More than I wanted to admit.
More than I knew how to handle.
And everything was about to get infinitely more complicated.