FAZER LOGINHe glanced up when Ava walked in. “Hey, kid.” His voice was low and smooth, the kind that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.
She rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “I’m seventeen.”
“Still a kid,” Jaxon said with a chuckle.
Ava huffed, trying to look affronted. “You can’t say that about me. I’m practically an adult now.”
“Practically?” Jaxon raised an eyebrow. “You are an adult. Just not old enough to buy me drinks... yet.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, trying to hide her smile.
Ethan chuckled and grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. “We're taking her to the store. She needs some stuff for college.”
Jaxon raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“I don't know,” Ethan said. “Dorm stuff.”
Ava crossed her arms. “I already made a list.”
Jaxon smirked. “Of course you did. You're a total planner, Ava.”
She huffed. “It's not a bad thing!”
He just laughed, the kind of warm, familiar laugh that made her feel like she was home.
Her mother walked in, keys in hand. “What are you guys planning today?”
“Taking Ava shopping for college stuff,” Ethan said.
“Good. Don’t let her buy anything ridiculous.”
Ava gasped. “I don’t buy ridiculous things.”
Her mother gave her a look. “You bought a lava lamp last week.”
“It was cute,” Ava said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice.
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “It was unnecessary. But I suppose it's not the end of the world.”
Jaxon snorted. “I vote she gets another one.”
Ava pointed at him triumphantly. “See?”
Her mother sighed. “Fine. One lava lamp. But that’s it.”
Ava grinned, feeling a sense of vindication. Jaxon winked at her, a small smile playing on his lips. Ethan groaned, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
The house felt warm again, the tension dissipating as they laughed and joked together.
They piled into Ethan’s truck—Ava in the passenger seat, Jaxon in the back. Ethan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh. Jaxon leaned back, legs spread, arms crossed, looking out the window like he was thinking about something far away.
Ava glanced at him in the side mirror. He caught her. She looked away fast. He smirked, a small, knowing smile.
Her cheeks warmed, and she felt a flutter in her chest. She hated that. She didn’t understand it. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything like that. Not at seventeen. Not when he was twenty-one. Not when he was Ethan’s best friend. Not when he was practically family.
But she did feel something. Something small. Something quiet. Something she didn’t have a name for. It was a flutter in her chest, a warmth that spread through her veins, a sense of being seen that made her skin prickle.
She shoved it down.
The store was loud and bright and full of people. Ava grabbed a cart and pushed it down the aisle, Ethan trailing behind her, Jaxon walking beside her with his hands shoved in his pockets. The fluorescent lights overhead cast an artificial glow, making everything feel bright and cheerful, but Ava's heart was still heavy with the unspoken emotions she'd been trying to ignore.
She grabbed notebooks, pens, a desk lamp, a laundry basket. Jaxon watched her with an intent gaze, as if he was trying to read her mind.
Jaxon grabbed a stuffed animal and dropped it in the cart.
Ava blinked. “What is that?”
“A dorm guardian,” he said seriously, his voice low and husky.
Ethan snorted. “A what?”
“She needs protection,” Jaxon said, his eyes serious, his expression deadpan.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “From what?”
“From the horrors of college life,” Jaxon said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Ava laughed, feeling a sense of unease. She wasn't sure what to make of Jaxon's serious expression, or the way he was looking at her with such intensity.
Ava picked up the stuffed animal, holding it to her chest. It was small, brown, and had a crooked smile.
“He’s cute,” she said, trying to sound casual.
“See?” Jaxon said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “She likes him.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “You’re both ridiculous,” he said, but Ava could see the hint of a smile on his face.
Ava hugged the bear to her chest, feeling a sense of comfort with the soft, cuddly object. “He’s coming with me,” she said, trying to sound confident.
Jaxon smiled—soft, proud, warm.
Ava looked away again, feeling a sense of unease, but also a sense of connection with Jaxon that she couldn't quite explain.
They walked through the bedding aisle next. Ava grabbed a comforter, running her hand over the soft, plush fabric. Ethan grabbed a pillow, tossing it into the cart with a grin. Jaxon grabbed a fuzzy blanket and tossed it in the cart, making Ava raise an eyebrow.
“Really?” she asked, trying to sound skeptical.
“You'll thank me in winter,” Jaxon said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
She shrugged. “Probably.”
She wasn't sure if she'd actually appreciate the fuzzy blanket, but she appreciated the thought.
He nudged her shoulder lightly. “You're gonna do great, you know.”
His voice was low and sincere, and Ava felt a flutter in her chest. She froze, her heart skipping a beat.
Ethan looked over, a curious expression on his face.
Jaxon didn't seem to realize what he'd said until she stared at him, her eyes locking onto his. He cleared his throat, a hint of embarrassment on his face.
“I mean... college. You're smart. You'll be fine.”
Ava swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions. She didn't know how to respond to Jaxon's words, or how to process the way she felt when he spoke to her like that. She just knew that it made her feel seen, and heard, and valued.
“Thanks,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Look at you being supportive.”
“Shut up,” Jaxon muttered, but Ava could see the faintest hint of a smile on his face.
Ava smiled, feeling a sense of ease with Jaxon that she didn't understand. It was like they were sharing a secret, a moment of connection that only they understood.
They checked out, loaded the truck, and drove home. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape.
Ava leaned her head against the window, watching the world blur by as the trees and houses and streets all became a soft, fuzzy blur.
She was leaving. She was really leaving. In a few weeks, she'd be gone for four years. Ethan would still be here. Jaxon would still be here. Life would keep going without her.
She didn't know why that scared her. She didn't know why it hurt. She didn't know why she kept glancing at Jaxon in the mirror, memorizing the way he looked now—dark hair, strong build, soft eyes—like she was afraid she'd forget him.
She didn't know why he kept looking back.
She didn't know anything.
She was seventeen. He was twenty-one. He was Ethan's best friend. He was practically family.
And she was leaving.
The words kept echoing in her mind, a refrain of uncertainty and fear. But as she looked over at Jaxon, she saw him glance at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes locking onto hers for a moment before he looked away.
And in that moment, she felt a sense of connection, a sense of understanding, that went beyond words.
Back home, they unloaded everything. Ava carried the stuffed bear upstairs and set it on her bed, where it sat proudly beside her suitcase.
She stared at it for a long moment, the soft, cuddly object a reminder of Jaxon's thoughtfulness. Then she sat beside it, hugging her knees and letting out a deep breath.
She didn't cry. She didn't panic. She didn't fall apart.
She just felt... everything.
Excited. Terrified. Hopeful. Sad. Ready. Not ready at all.
The emotions swirled inside her, a mix of feelings that she couldn't quite untangle. But as she sat there, surrounded by the familiar walls of her childhood bedroom, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.
It was like the world outside was spinning out of control, but in this moment, she was okay.
A knock sounded on her door.
She looked up, expecting to see Ethan or her parents, but instead, she saw Jaxon standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face.
“You good?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.
She nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude toward him. “Yeah.”
He looked around her room, taking in the sight of her suitcase, her bed, and the stuffed bear.
“He fits,” he said, nodding toward the bear.
She smiled, feeling a sense of connection with Jaxon. “He does.”
He hesitated, his eyes meeting hers in a moment of understanding.
“You're gonna be okay, Ava.”
She nodded, feeling a sense of reassurance. “I know.”
“You're gonna make friends,” he said, his voice full of conviction.
She swallowed, feeling a sense of uncertainty. “I hope so.”
“You're gonna do big things,” he said, his eyes shining with belief.
She felt a surge of emotion, a mix of gratitude and wonder. “You think so?”
He nodded once, his expression serious. “Yeah. I do.”
She didn't know why that meant so much, but as she looked at Jaxon, she felt a sense of connection, a sense of understanding that went beyond words.
He pushed off the door frame, his eyes meeting hers in a moment of connection.
“Dinner's ready,” he said, his voice low and gentle.
She stood, feeling a sense of purpose. “Okay.”
He paused, his eyes locked onto hers.
“Hey.”
She looked up.
He nodded slightly. “Don't forget us while you're gone,” he said, his voice full of emotion.
Ava's heart skipped a beat.
“I won't,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded and walked away, leaving Ava to watch him go with a sense of wonder.
Her suitcase sat open on the bed, her dorm guardian watching from the bed. She exhaled slowly, letting the quiet settle around her.
Tomorrow would come fast, but tonight, she felt steady enough to face it.
Ava didn't realize how swiftly six months had slipped away until the routines of her second year of nursing consumed her. It wasn't just the familiar lectures and textbooks that had become a blur, but the grueling labs, clinical rotations, simulation drills, and early-morning hospital shifts that started before the sun peeked over the horizon. She spent hours honing her skills in IV starts, wound care, assessments, charting, and emergency protocols that demanded precision, with one mistake unacceptable.By October, her days were a never-ending blur, leaving her barely enough time to draw a breath. By November, the exhaustion had deepened, and sleep became a luxury she could hardly afford. By December, thoughts of home—of her family, her friends, her life before nursing—were fleeting, a distant memory she couldn't quite grasp. She texted Ethan when she could, her messages a sporadic connection to her roots.Jaxon, however, slipped further and further from her mind, her texts to him bec
Eight months passed since her last visit home, and Ava felt a familiar twinge of anxiety mixed with excitement as she returned home unannounced. The gap since her last visit had left her wondering about the changes she might find, the people she'd left behind who'd grown in her absence. Her thoughts swirled with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.She wound her way down the familiar roads, Lila's borrowed car gliding quietly over the asphalt until the fire station's brick facade came into view ahead. The parking lot was nearly vacant, save for a single pickup truck with Station 3 printed across its side, parked by the entrance, with the engine's bright lights casting eerie glows in the morning light. Firefighters in uniform moved around the engine, preparing and double-checking equipment. Their focus seemed driven, precise—nothing chaotic, though everything felt heightened.Ava got out of the car as quietly as she could and stepped inside, feeling the station's familiar acrid scent
Another six months passed while Ava was at school, and the familiar ache of homesickness began to gnaw at her. It was finally time for another break, a chance to return home and reconnect with the people she loved. Ava didn't go straight home this time, though. She wanted to savor the transition, to ease back into the rhythm of small-town life.Her father offered to pick her up from the bus station, but she told him she wanted to walk. She needed the air, the quiet, and the space between campus and home to settle her thoughts before she saw anyone.The late-summer sun hung low over the town, warm but fading, casting a golden glow over the familiar streets. The sidewalks were cracked in the same places she remembered, the storefronts familiar, the smell of the bakery drifting down the street like a comforting hug.She passed the park, where she used to play tag with Ethan and Jaxon, the library, where she spent hours getting lost in novels, and the corner store where she used to buy gu
Ava hadn't expected two weeks at home to change her as much as they did. She thought she'd go home, sleep in her old bed, eat her mother's delicious cooking, and come back to campus exactly the same. But seeing Ethan struggle—really struggle—had shifted something inside her, making her realize she wasn't the only one trying to grow into someone stronger. It made her realize she wasn't fragile. And it made her realize she wanted to be someone Ethan could lean on, not someone he had to protect.When her ride-share pulled up to campus, she stepped out with her backpack slung over her shoulder and a newfound sense of confidence she hadn't felt before, like a quiet anchor was finally in place. The quad buzzed with students returning from break, their chatter and laughter mingling with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.Ava's eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the familiar faces of her classmates and friends. But one face stood out—Lila's, with her bright smile and energeti
Ava didn’t realize how much six months could change her until she stepped out of her father’s car and saw her house again, the porch light and the crooked mailbox standing steady under the gentle twilight that bathed the small neighborhood, as though time itself was unfolding a story of return. The old oak tree by the mailbox had sprouted a few more green leaves, like emerald threads weaving through the warm tones of afternoon.It looked the same—her family’s warm house, where love dwelled around the scent of cinnamon and laundry detergent—but as she took in the comforting familiarity, Ava felt different. Somewhere, in the months she'd lived away for nursing school, she'd accumulated years. A sense of self had crystallized, like ice glinting on still lake water in winter's hazy dawn. This was home now, the place where love wrapped around her like a soft blanket; and yet, standing on this familiar porch, a little part of Ava wavered with the promise that nothing would ever be the same
Ava didn't expect the paper to come back this fast. She had been dreading the moment she would receive her graded assignments, and now that it was here, she felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her.Her English professor walked down the rows, dropping graded assignments onto desks with the same neutral expression she always wore. Ava sat up straighter, her fingers tightening around her pen as she tried to prepare herself for the worst.She wasn't expecting an A. She wasn't expecting perfection. But she had tried.The paper slid onto her desk, and Ava's heart sank as she flipped it over. A red C- stared back at her, the grade seeming to leap off the page and slap her in the face.Her stomach dropped so fast she felt dizzy, and her vision blurred as her head spun. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, her legs trembling beneath her.She reread the comments, each one hitting harder than the last.Unclear thesis. Underdeveloped analysis. Weak structure.The words blurred together,







