“You should’ve stayed home, Ava.”
That was the last thing she heard before the icy splash hit her chest.
A loud gasp echoed around the gym as a sticky red punch soaked through her blue dress, dripping down her front, staining the fabric like blood.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” one of the popular girls fake-gasped, clutching her cup with zero remorse in her eyes. “It totally slipped.”
Laughter followed, sharp and unforgiving. A chorus of whispers and camera clicks.
Ava didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Her body stood still, but inside, something snapped like a branch in a storm.
She turned and walked straight out of the gym without a word, heels echoing behind her like gunshots. The air outside was sharp against her wet skin, and the night wrapped around her like a punishment.
Ava stood alone in the school parking lot, fists clenched at her sides, her chest rising and falling like she was fighting back screams.
Her dress clung to her, soaked and heavy. Her throat burned from holding it all in—rage, pain, embarrassment.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. Why did I even come?
The door creaked behind her. Footsteps. Slow. Careful. She didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Don’t,” she said quietly, not turning around.
But he came anyway. Jace stopped a few feet behind her. “Ava…”
“No,” she snapped, spinning to face him. “What? You came to laugh at me too? Did you forget to hit ‘record’ earlier?”
His eyes flickered. “That wasn’t me.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “No? But you stood there. You always do. You never start it, Jace—you just make sure I see you watching.”
He stepped forward, but she backed away.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, her voice cracking. “I swear to God, if you try to play the ‘I didn’t mean it’ card, I’ll scream.”
“I’m not here to lie,” he said quietly.
“Then what do you want from me?” she shouted, the words bursting from her like a dam breaking. “An apology? A redo? Closure so you can sleep better at night?”
Jace was silent for a moment. The air between them crackled.
“I want to hate you,” he said finally, his voice low and raw. “But I can’t.”
Ava blinked, confused. “What?”
“I want to hate you,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice shaking. “But every time I look at you, I feel like I’m human. And I don’t know how to survive that.”
She stared at him, stunned. Then her expression darkened.
“You—” she scoffed, bitter and furious. “So you destroy me instead? Because it’s easier than admitting you care? Because being cruel is safer than being real?”
He didn’t answer.
“Say something!” she yelled, eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall. “Tell me this whole thing is just another game to you. Tell me this doesn’t mean anything. Go ahead—laugh. Like you always do.”
Jace looked at her, eyes hollow. “I don’t know how to fix what I’ve done.”
Ava knew this was just one of his tricks. He would always pull it on her. Pretended he cared only to crush her down. But this time she knew better.
“Fix it? You can’t fix it,” she snapped. “You turned me into a joke! You made sure I never felt safe in my own skin! You called me names, laughed when I cried, stood by when they tore me apart!”
“I know!” he shouted, the words ripping from his throat.
She froze. The silence after was loud.
“I know,” he said again, softer this time, eyes wide with something that looked like guilt. “And I hate myself for it.”
Ava stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm.
“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to stand here, now that I’ve learned how to breathe again, and act like you’re the one who’s drowning.”
His jaw clenched. “I never meant—”
She didn’t let him finish. Her hand rose before she even realized it.
CRACK.
The slap echoed in the night air, cutting through the silence like a gunshot.
Jace’s head snapped to the side, his cheek blooming red.