Chapter 17 — Ava's POV: Spiral
I didn't check my phone for the first half of the afternoon.
Not because I didn't want to — I wanted to more than anything — but because I was trying to play it cool.
Normal.
Unbothered.
Healthy.
I told myself I wouldn't think about Ethan until after track practice. Then I wouldn't think about him until I got home. Then I wouldn't think about him until dinner.
By 3 PM, I had thought about him approximately fifty-six times.
By 3:10, seventy-three.
By 3:12, I'd opened Instagram out of pure habit — not even consciously — and the first thing I saw made my blood go cold.
Cassie's story.
A warm, soft-lit photo.
Her latte held close to her lips.
A second drink visible across from her.
And the caption:
Coffee today with van boy ☕️🤭Finally getting the full story~
I stared at the screen.
My throat tightened.
My fingers went numb.
My stomach dropped.
Van boy. She used my nickname for him. The one I only ever said to Tara as a joke.
Cassie took a picture of her coffee, and his coffee across from her.
He was right there.
With her.
At a café.
I could see it now.
Laughing with her.
Talking with her.
Smiling with her.
A strange sound left me — something between a gasp and a breath I didn't fully exhale.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt.
My vision blurred for a second before sharpening too much.
I locked my phone and put it face-down so fast it nearly skidded across my leg.
But then a horrible, traitorous thought whispered:
Maybe there's another picture.
I flipped the phone over and checked again.
Her story had two posts.
The second one loaded slowly — like my phone knew it was about to ruin my day and wanted to savor it.
It was a blurry shot of a book bag and a blurred silhouette of someone tall, hoodie-wearing, broad-shouldered.
Him.
Ethan
And under it:
He's so flustered it's adorable 😂❤️
My entire body went hot — then cold.
Flustered?
Adorable?
A heart??
A heart???
My breath stuttered.
My pulse roared in my ears like I'd just run a 400m sprint at full speed.
This wasn't nothing.
This wasn't casual.
Cassie didn't post hearts about people she didn't want.
She was—
She liked him.
She wanted him.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep. To not think about this anymore
But I still thought about her, about Ethan with an ache slamming into my chest.
****************************
The next morning I felt like the first night after the incident. I didn't have any nightmare last night, no I was feeling dead on feet. my brain refusing to power up for the day.
At before school track practice I felt as my legs were made of lead. And my head pounded with a throbbing ache. I stumbled over my own feet and fell face first on the track.
My fingers trembled as I stood up, barely hearing my coach yelling instructions. The world blurred around the edges — too loud, too bright, too sharp.
Tara jogged up beside me, eyes widening immediately.
"Hey! Ava — you okay?"
I blinked rapidly. "Yeah. I just— I need water."
"No, you need to breathe," she said, grabbing my wrist. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I lied, too quickly, too visibly.
Her eyes narrowed. "Ava."
I swallowed hard.
"It's… about Ethan."
Her face split into a knowing, exasperated smile. "Of course it is."
"No! Not like that — I just—"
But I couldn't finish.
Because if I said it aloud — if I admitted that seeing him on a date with another girl made me want to scream and cry and punch a wall — then it would be real.
And I wasn't ready for real.
Not yet.
Tara sighed dramatically. "Okay. Sit. Now."
She pulled me to the side of the field and practically shoved me onto the grass.
"Talk," she demanded.
I squeezed my eyes shut. "He's with Cassie."
"Cassie?" Her voice sharpened. "Cassie Novik? Glasses, cardigan, looks like a librarian NPC? I think I have Calculus with her."
"Yes."
"And they're… what, hanging out?"
"They went and got coffee yesterday," I whispered.
"Coffee?" she repeated slowly. "Like a date?"
I inhaled sharply — too sharp, too shaky.
Tara watched my face.
"Shit," she muttered. "You actually like him."
My whole body tensed.
"I— no— I don't— I mean I—"
"You like him," Tara repeated, softer this time. "You like him a lot."
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
Because if I nodded, I would break.
If I said it out loud, I would cry.
If I admitted the truth, then everything would collapse — the careful distance I'd tried to keep, the guarded control, the lie that this was just gratitude from guilt about the situation— or even what 'after' of friendship would be.
It wasn't ment to be like this.
It hadn't been for days.
Maybe weeks.
Maybe since the morning he saved my life.
I pressed my hands into my eyes.
"It's stupid," I whispered.
"No," Tara said firmly. "It's human."
I didn't respond.
She studied me for a moment, then nudged my shoulder.
"Go home," she said softly. "You're useless today. I'll cover for you."
I nodded — grateful and miserable — and gathered my things.
But my feet dragged as I walked back to my dorm.
Every step heavier than the last.
Every breath clawing its way out.
Because the whole time, one thought kept looping in my head:
Of course he likes her. She's cute. She's sweet. She already has a part relationship and is close to him. She's not traumatized by a once-in-a-lifetime event. She didn't start their friendship out of guilt. She's not complicated and carries baggage like I do.
She's everything I'm not.
And she didn't have to almost die to notice him, to have him pay attention to her.
I hated myself for thinking it. But every thought was how she was completely different from me.
But I couldn't stop.
By the time I reached my dorm, my hands had stopped shaking — replaced by a dull, aching numbness.
I sank onto my bed and pulled the blankets up around me, chest tight, breath shallow.
My phone buzzed.
I froze.
It buzzed again.
Hands trembling, I picked it up.
Ethan: Coffee went good. I'll tell you about it later if you want. :)
My heart squeezed painfully, painfully tight.
He was texting me.
He was thinking about me.
He was—
I typed:
Ava: Sure. Glad you had fun wanna call? :)
The smiley face felt like glass splintering under my nails.
Because the truth was…
I wasn't glad.
At all.
I wanted him to tell me it was awful. I wanted him to tell me he thought only of me the whole time. I wanted him to say Cassie meant nothing. I wanted him to say he wanted to see me. Only me.
Instead, he sent a lighthearted:
Ethan: Actually wanna get ice cream? My treat
I hesitated. Do I want to see him? My heart thumped and nodded as I typed my reply.
Ava: Yeah! Where do you wanna meet?
A pause.
Then:
Ethan: Actually i'm down at the campus campus cafeteria with some gas staion ice cream. If that's up to your standards?
My breath caught.
Hard.
I covered my mouth with my hand.
Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be so gentle, so consistent, so… him? Why couldn't he be easier to forget? Why dose the idea of eating overpriced ice cream in the crappy school cafeteria at night — with him, make smile.
I typed back:
Ava: I'm leaving my dorm now. See you in 5!
Ethan: Perfect :) See you soon
I set my phone down on my chest, staring at the ceiling as my eyes burned.
Why did this hurt so much?
I rolled onto my side, and got out of bed. I said I would be there in 5 so I can't make him wait. I quickly put on a hoodie that I think is clean and then make my way to the main school campus building.
While it wasn't far Westbridge University was large it wasn't that far from the dorms and the main campus building. I speedwalked/ran to the cafeteria.
It was 8 pm and there were still people about eating late dinners or getting an evening snack like me. I looked around for Ethan and saw him almost immediately. it was as if my eyes were magnets for his face. He was looking at his phone and typing something fast. he seemed serious and focused as I made my way over.
I eventually stood behind him and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. "Ethan" I called out.
He flinched, not away but like he was started and didn't realize was here. I saw a peek of his phone screen as he. turned to face me and saw he was on the notes app writing paragraph after paragraph.
I wondered if those were class notes, or maybe personal like a grocery list or jokes he's thought of, or maybe his was writing in his journal. The curitoistiy got the better of me and I asked simply "Whatcha writing?" doing my best impression of a character we talked about from a show we both loved to make references to.
But to my surprise he didn't act like I expected him to. instead of responding and telling me what the notes were for his eyes looked anxious and he locked his phone and turned the screen away.
"Oh don't worry about that. Just writing down some thoughts." He brushed it off and reached for the ice cream that was on the table next to him. "I got you 'Mint Chocolate Chip' although how you can eat such a vile thing still amazes me."
He completely changed the topic and forced me to drop the topic of his notes. And while I am curious about what those notes really were about, I knew that we didn't have that kind of relationship. If he didn't want to tell me, then I wasn't to going to push it. Everyone is entitled to their own secrets.