Novels by Ibiene

EthanJake's family had a lake house about an hour outside of town, and at the end of June, we all went up for the weekend.It was supposed to be a group thing—me, Ava, Jake, Derek, Marcus, and a few other friends. But somewhere between the drive and the bonfire and the bottles of cheap wine that Derek had somehow procured, the group dissolved into couples and clusters, and I found myself alone with Ava on the dock.The water was black glass, reflecting the stars. The sounds of the party drifted from the house—laughter, music, someone splashing in the shallow end of the lake. But out here, it was quiet. Just the two of us and the crickets and the slow lap of water against the wooden posts.Ava was sitting beside me, her feet dangling over the edge, her toes barely brushing the surface. She was wearing my hoodie—the gray one I'd had since freshman year—and her hair was loose around her shoulders, catching the light from the house."Are you cold?" I asked."A little."I put my arm aroun

AvaThree months into our relationship, I learned that Ethan Blake had a voice that could undo me.It wasn't something I noticed at first. In class, in the cafeteria, even on our first few dates, he spoke the way most people did—normal volume, normal tone, nothing that would make you stop and listen. But alone, when it was just the two of us, his voice changed.It dropped lower. Slower. Like he was savoring every word."Come here," he said one night, his back against the headboard of his bed, his hand reaching for mine.We were in his room—his aunt was out of town for the weekend, and we'd claimed the house as our own. The lights were dim, the windows open, the summer air thick and warm. I'd been here a dozen times before, but never like this. Never with the tension stretched so tight between us that I could feel it humming in my skin.I took his hand, and he pulled me onto the bed beside him. His fingers traced the curve of my jaw, tilting my face toward his."You're nervous," he obs

AvaSpring arrived like a slow exhale, carrying with it the scent of blooming magnolias and the promise of something new. The days grew longer, the sun warmer, and somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like I was drowning.It happened gradually—so gradually that I almost didn't notice. One morning, I woke up and the first thought in my head wasn't Ethan or Mia. It was I have a history test today and I wonder what Priya and I are doing for lunch. Small things. Normal things. The things that filled the spaces where grief used to live.Creative writing club had become my anchor. Every Tuesday, I walked into room 204 and sat in the circle of mismatched chairs, surrounded by people who knew nothing about my past and cared only about my words. We read each other's stories, offered feedback that was honest but kind, and celebrated every small victory—a finished chapter, a perfect sentence, a character who finally came to life on the page.Priya had become my closest friend in the group.

AvaBy the time spring arrived, I was a different person than the girl who'd walked into third‑period English two years ago.It wasn't a dramatic transformation. There was no single moment where everything clicked. It was small things, laughing at jokes without forcing it, looking forward to my creative club meetings, running miles till i lost my breathe. One day i realized i hadn't thought about Ethan in almost a week, and the realization didn't hurt a bit.I'd learned to be alone. I'd learned that heartbreak didn't kill you, even when it felt like it would. I'd learned that forgiveness wasn't a switch you flipped but a door you opened, slowly, when you were ready.Creative writing club became my sanctuary. Every Tuesday afternoon, I sat in a circle of people who didn't know my history, didn't care about the drama, just wanted to talk about stories. I started writing again—not the angsty, raw poems I'd been scribbling in the margins of my notebooks, but real stories. Characters who h

Ethan's POVI didn't plan for it to happen.That's the truth, even if it sounds like an excuse. I didn't wake up one morning and decide to fall for Mia. It crept up on me, slow and quiet, like a tide that erodes a shoreline until there's nothing left.When i first met Ava, i was drwan to her. She was quiet in a wat that made you want to know what she was thinking. She had this way of looking at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. When she said yes to being my girlfriend, i felt like i'd won something i didn't know i'd be competing for.For six months, i was happy. Genuinely happy.But Mia was always there. She was the bridge between us, the one who introduced us, the one who cheered us on. And somewhere along the way, i started noticing her in a different way. It started with small things. The way she laughed, loud and unapologetic. The way she'd roll her eyes at my jokes but smile while she did it. The way she'd text me about something that happened i

MiaThe day after I told Ava the truth, I couldn't get out of bed.I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over. Her face when I said the words. The way her voice cracked when she said, "You're my best friend." The sound of her footsteps as she walked away from me in the hallway.I'd imagined this moment a hundred times. In my worst nightmares, she screamed at me, threw things, told me she wished I was dead. In my more hopeful fantasies, she cried, and I cried, and somehow, impossibly, she forgave me.But what actually happened was worse than anything I'd imagined.She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She just looked at me with this hollow, shattered expression, and then she walked away. Like I wasn't worth another word. Like I was already a ghost.She's right, I thought. You don't deserve her tears. You don't deserve anything from her.My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. And again.Ethan: She blocked me. Did you tell her?Ethan: Mia, what happ