Chapter Two: Unfinished Business

POV: Blake

---

Blake Monroe knew three things for certain.

One: Ave Imani hated him.

Two: She had every right to.

Three: That didn’t stop his chest from doing something deeply stupid every time she looked at him — even if that look could burn metal.

He arrived at the library ten minutes early. Not to impress her. Not because he cared. (Definitely not.) But because the last time he was late to meet Ave, he ended up with an energy drink dumped on his notes and her silent treatment for a week.

He'd deserved both.

He found a table in the far corner — quiet, hidden, and full of academic doom — and started pulling out his sketchpad and the folder they’d been assigned. A fresh project brief lay at the top.

Design a real-world prototype that addresses an overlooked daily issue. Bonus for creativity. Bonus for functionality. Extra bonus for not killing your partner.

He smirked at the last part — which he may or may not have added himself in pen.

At exactly 4:00 PM, Ave walked in.

No words. No hesitation.

She sat across from him like they were co-CEOs of a tech empire instead of two high schoolers who once made out in a closet and then didn’t speak for four months.

“I brought a draft,” she said.

Of course she did.

She pulled out a four-page outline, color-coded, with bullet points and rough designs already penciled in.

“Have you been planning this since last year?” Blake asked.

“I like to be prepared.”

Blake leaned forward, glancing over the diagrams. “Smart irrigation system?”

“Solar-powered. Minimal maintenance. Detects moisture levels and delivers water directly where needed. Could help reduce waste in areas with inconsistent rainfall.”

Blake blinked. “Okay, that’s... actually genius.”

Ave didn’t look at him. “I know.”

God, he’d missed this — not the tension, exactly. But her mind. The way it moved, fast and brutal, like a machine tuned for excellence. She didn’t just want to win. She wanted to win right.

He cleared his throat. “I brought some sketches too. For the frame. If you’re still okay with using a Raspberry Pi unit, I can wire the power source. I’ve got extra modules.”

“Show me.”

Blake passed over his sketchpad.

Ave stared for a few seconds too long. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just... didn't expect it to be this neat.”

“You thought I was messy?”

“I know you’re messy.”

“I’m not messy,” Blake said. “I’m chaotic-efficient.”

Ave rolled her eyes — but her mouth twitched like it wanted to smile. Almost.

And for a second, the air between them felt... light. Not like old times. But like new ones that might not end in fire.

---

Flashback — Six Months Ago

It had started at the robotics invitational in the fall. She’d been furious about a bug in her code. He’d been cocky after winning his round.

He’d teased her. She’d challenged him.

Ten minutes later, they were in the back hall of the auditorium, arguing over logic gates and circuit patterns. And then —

They kissed.

Hard. Quick. Like lighting a match just to watch it burn.

And then he ruined it.

Not on purpose. Not really. He just told his friends. Not even in detail — just enough to be stupid.

And Ave found out.

And Blake learned something valuable that day: Ave Imani never forgot. And she definitely never forgave.

Not when trust was broken. Not when pride was bruised.

And especially not when her name became a joke in the boys’ locker room group chat.

She didn’t yell.

She didn’t even call him out.

She just... stopped speaking to him.

No drama. No explosion.

Just silence — the kind that echoed louder than any fight ever could.

---

Present Day — Back to the Library

“So,” Blake said now, shifting in his seat. “Do we talk about the past or pretend we’ve always been awkward academic coworkers?”

Ave didn’t flinch. “Coworkers don’t kiss behind supply closets.”

He blinked.

Okay. Bold.

But if she was opening that door—

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Ave looked up slowly. Her gaze was sharp, but not cruel. “But you did.”

“I know.” He let out a breath. “I was stupid. I wanted to win points with the guys. I thought— I don’t know. That it didn’t matter.”

“It mattered.”

“I get that now.”

Silence stretched again, but this time it was thick with something softer — like regret, or memory, or the unspoken acknowledgment that they were still here. Still showing up.

Ave finally broke the pause. “We’re not friends, Blake.”

“I’m not asking for that.”

“Good.” She flipped to the second page of her outline. “Because we don’t have time for nostalgia. We have to win.”

Blake leaned forward. “Agreed.”

But even as they started organizing tasks, syncing documents, assigning build schedules — Blake couldn’t help thinking about that kiss.

And whether Ave had really moved past it.

Because he hadn’t.

Not entirely.

Not even close.