ALEXANDER
By the time we got back to my place, Theo had already made himself at home—kicked his shoes halfway across the hall, left his jacket hanging off the banister like it was his personal coat rack, and raided the fridge before even making it up to my room.
Now he was sprawled on my bed, flipping through one of my books like he had any intention of reading it.
"You're gonna bend the damn spine," I said, kicking the door shut behind me.
Theo smirked. "Oh, right. God forbid Mr. Harvard candidate's first editions get wrinkles."
I walked past him to my desk, tossing my watch onto it. "You sound jealous."
"Jealous? Of a dude who alphabetizes his bookshelf? Yeah, absolutely."
I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV mounted on my wall, flipping through channels without actually looking at them. Theo rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
"So, how's your precious project partner doing?" he asked casually, like he'd been waiting to bring it up.
I kept my eyes on the TV. "Not fine. I think I pushed her too hard, and she got mad."
Theo sat up, eyebrows raised. "Think?" He let out a short laugh. "Dude, I'm sure you definitely did."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said dryly.
"What's her name, anyway?" he asked, grabbing a pillow and hugging it like a bored kid.
I glanced at him. "The girl that came to the celebration party. The one Noah was talking to. Number 20's friend."
His mouth dropped open. "Josh's friend? Holy shit, bro. She's the one? That pretty girl?"
He gave me a look. "Dude why are you talking about her like she's some stranger?"
"Her name's… Aria?" he guessed.
"Avaline," I corrected, biting back the urge to smirk. "And technically, she is a stranger."
Theo shook his head. "Not that kind of stranger."
I raised a brow. "Oh?"
"That actually reminds me," Theo said, leaning back against the headboard. "You know Noah likes her, right? So I told him I'd help him out. I remembered her face from the party, then it hit me—she was in that café we walked into that day. I knew I knew her from somewhere. So I told Noah she works there. This was Friday. Don't know if he actually went, but dude is pretty serious about her." He started laughing like this was the best news in the world.
I stared at him for a moment. "I don't give a fuck about how Noah feels about her."
Theo stopped mid-laugh. "Dude, chill. What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." I leaned back in my chair, eyes flicking up to the TV.
"There's definitely something wrong."
"Shut your ass up."
"I thought Noah was your friend," Theo said, squinting at me like he was inspecting a science experiment.
"Who says he isn't?"
Theo pointed at me. "Your face right now. You hate him, man. You definitely do. Look at you—your whole mood changed just mentioning him."
"I'm not mad because of him," I said flatly. "Just… shut the fuck up."
Theo grinned like he'd just uncovered the biggest secret of the century. "Ohhh, so you're mad about her?"
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. "I'm going downstairs. I'm hungry. Want something?"
He peeked over the pillow. "Definitely not your ass."
I smirked despite myself. "Fuck off."
"Lead the way, Captain Sunshine," he said, hopping off the bed to follow me.
We made it halfway down the stairs before he added, "You know, for a guy who doesn't care, you sure as hell look like you care."
I didn't bother answering.
By the time we hit the kitchen, Theo was still riding that smug high from upstairs, like he'd just won some invisible argument I never agreed to have.
He yanked open the fridge. "You got anything edible in here, or is it just kale and bottled water?"
I leaned against the counter. "Eat whatever you want. Just don't touch the last slice of cheesecake."
Theo's head popped out of the fridge. "Oh, you mean this cheesecake?" He held it up with the grin of someone who wanted to get punched.
I narrowed my eyes. "Put it back before I stab you with a fork."
"You wouldn't stab your best friend over dessert," he said.
I grabbed the nearest fork from the drawer. "Wanna test that theory?"
He laughed and set it back on the shelf, finally pulling out leftover pizza instead. "Relax, man. You're wound tighter than a nun's—"
"Finish that sentence and I'll drown you in the sink," I cut in, already knowing where his brain was going.
Before he could come up with a replacement insult, footsteps padded into the kitchen.
Sophia and Helen.
The moment Theo spotted them, his expression shifted like someone just hit pause on his dirty mouth.
"Ladies," Theo greeted with the kind of fake politeness that made me want to throw the pizza at his head.
Sophia squinted at him. "Why does it sound like you're about to sell us something shady?"
Helen, trailing behind, plopped herself onto one of the stools. "Probably because he is."
I pulled a plate from the cupboard. "Don't encourage him."
Sophia set her phone on the counter and looked at me. "By the way, I got another letter from that guy."
"What guy?" I asked, sliding the pizza into the microwave.
"The one who keeps shoving love letters into my locker." She made a face like she'd just stepped in something gross. "He's annoying."
Theo smirked. "Thank God you hate him. Saves me from having to break some dude's heart."
I rolled my eyes. "He's actually good-looking, Soph."
Helen, who'd been scrolling on her phone, didn't even look up. "No. Never. He's not attractive. At all."
I laughed. "Brutal. Study, sis."
Helen groaned. "Gosh, I hate boys in school. They're so annoying. And would you believe one ugly specimen in my class was mocking Carly because she had a period stain? Like, in front of everyone."
My jaw tightened. "He's just stupid. Dumb. Boys in your class are dumb as fuck."
"Language," Sophia sing-songed.
I grabbed my plate from the microwave. "If the shoe fits…"
Theo, who'd been silently chewing, suddenly piped up. "Wait, so, Alex, you're saying ugly boys shouldn't have opinions?"
"Yes," I said flatly.
He grinned. "Does that mean I'm allowed to say whatever I want?"
"You're not ugly?" Helen asked, dead serious.
I nearly choked on my pizza.
Theo clutched his chest. "Wow. Wounded."
"Good," I said, heading for the doorway. "Stay wounded."
"Hey, where you going?" Theo called after me.
"My room. Away from you."
He followed anyway, of course, still talking. "You know, if I were ugly, you'd still hang out with me, right?"
I didn't answer.
"Right?" he pressed, trailing behind me up the stairs.
I shut my door in his face.
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AVALINE
By the time I finally got home, the sun had already dipped low, casting that soft golden light across our living room windows. I slipped off my shoes at the door, my bag dropping with a soft thud against the wall. The smell of popcorn drifted toward me—salty, buttery, and definitely a sign that Simon had taken over the snack situation again.
"Hey, stranger!" my brother's voice carried from the living room. "Nice of you to join us before midnight."
"It's not even eight," I muttered, walking in and catching sight of him sprawled on the couch like he owned the place, a giant bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on his lap. Mom was tucked into her favorite armchair, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose, but her attention was on the television. Dad sat at the far end of the couch, remote in hand, grinning like a little kid.
They were watching some ridiculous comedy—one of those slapstick, everything-goes-wrong movies. On the screen, a man was trying to balance a wedding cake while stepping over a barking dog. The dog won.
"You're just in time for the good part," Dad said, patting the space beside him. "Sit."
I dropped into the spot, careful not to knock Simon's popcorn bowl. "What's happening?" I asked.
Simon leaned toward me, whispering dramatically, "A total disaster, Ava. This guy's about to ruin the bride's big day. He's already tripped over the dog, and now he's heading for the chocolate fountain."
As if on cue, the man on screen slipped on something—I think it was a stray bouquet—and the cake flew into the air, spinning like it was in slow motion. The chocolate fountain trembled under the impact.
"Boom!" Simon shouted, throwing a handful of popcorn into the air like confetti. Half of it landed on me.
"Simon!" I brushed kernels out of my hair, glaring at him even as I laughed. "You're such a child."
He grinned unapologetically. "You love it."
Mom chuckled softly. "You two are impossible."
We kept watching, and the chaos on the screen got worse—people slipping, screaming, and someone somehow ending up stuck inside a giant floral arrangement. Dad was laughing so hard, tears were forming in his eyes.
"You know," he said between chuckles, "this reminds me of your Aunt Lydia's wedding."
Mom groaned. "Oh, please don't bring that up again."
Simon perked up immediately. "What happened?"
"Your father tried to help carry the cake into the reception hall," Mom said, shaking her head. "But instead of walking through the open doorway, he managed to trip over—"
"It was a decorative rug!" Dad protested, but he was laughing too.
Simon's eyes widened. "Don't tell me—"
"Oh yes," Mom said, smirking. "The cake went down. And so did your father."
"Legendary," Simon said, holding out his hand for a high-five. Dad gave it to him proudly.
I couldn't stop laughing. "I can't believe you never told us this."
Dad shrugged. "Some things are best left in the past… until a bad comedy forces you to relive them."
We stayed like that for almost an hour—laughing, eating, and occasionally shouting at the screen like the characters could hear us. For a little while, I forgot about the exhaustion from work, about the awkward conversation with Bella and Josh earlier, and about… well, everything.
When the credits finally rolled, Simon stretched like he'd just run a marathon. "Alright, I'm taking the rest of the popcorn to my room. Night, fam."
"Goodnight, mature adult," I called after him.
He gave me a dramatic bow before disappearing.
Mom yawned and set down her tea. "I'm heading to bed too. Don't stay up too late, Ava."
"Promise," I said automatically, though I wasn't sure I'd keep it.
Once they were gone, I curled up in the corner of the couch, my phone buzzing on the coffee table. I'd heard it earlier, back at the café, but between orders and wiping down tables, I hadn't had time to check it.
When I picked it up, the screen lit with a single unread message:
Unknown Number: Hey.
My stomach flipped just a little—not in a dramatic, heart-stopping way, but in that "oh" way you get when something unexpected happens. I didn't need to guess too hard to figure out who it was.
I opened the message but didn't reply right away. Instead, I grabbed my water bottle and headed to my room, tossing my phone onto the bed before digging out a clean set of pajamas. A quick, hot shower later, I felt more human again.
When I came back, I sat cross-legged on my bed, towel-drying my hair, and finally typed a reply:
Me: Hey.
It didn't take long for the dots to appear.
Noah: Finally.
I laughed under my breath and sent back a simple laughing emoji.
Noah: Busy saving the world or just ignoring me?
Me: More like trying to survive a Friday shift at the café.
Noah: That bad, huh?
Me: Let's just say… people are more impatient when caffeine is involved.
Noah: Sounds about right. So… did you make it out alive?
Me: Barely.
I leaned back against my pillows, feeling oddly comfortable for a conversation that was still so new.
Noah: I didn't get to ask earlier—how long have you been working there?
Me: Since last summer.
Noah: Huh. I had no idea.
Me: Well, considering we barely know each other, that makes sense.
Noah: True. But I have to admit, I'm curious how you ended up there.
Me: Needed a part-time job. The place was hiring. End of story.
Noah: Mystery girl.
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me.
Me: I'm not a mystery.
Noah: Oh, you are.
I ignored that one and instead typed:
Me: lemme ask. How did you know I work there?
There was a longer pause this time, and I could almost picture him smiling at his phone.
Noah: Let's just call it… coincidence.
Me: That's suspicious.
Noah: You worry too much.
I tilted my head, staring at his words for a second before deciding I wasn't going to push for more.
Me: Fine.
Noah: Good.
We talked for a little longer—about the weather, about how his day went (apparently, he'd been running errands all over town), and about the best cookie flavor at the café ("Oatmeal raisin," he claimed, which was clearly wrong, but I didn't argue).
Eventually, I yawned, stretching my legs out under the blanket.
Me: I should probably sleep.
Noah: Probably. Don't want you falling asleep at work tomorrow.
Me: Goodnight, Noah.
Noah: Night, Ava.
I set my phone down on the nightstand, but the small smile lingered. It wasn't anything monumental, just a nice conversation at the end of a long day. Still, as I turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket up, I couldn't help thinking… maybe coincidences weren't always bad.
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