The Ride Home

[Ava’s POV]

Class feels longer than usual. At the far end of the room Ryan has his arm around Sophie’s shoulders, their heads tilted together like the rest of us do not exist. 

I told myself I was done with him. I said the words out loud in front of half the school. Still, watching them sends a dull ache through my chest. 

Two years of showing up, of choosing him first, and this is what it looks like from the outside.

The bell finally rings. I gather my books slower than I need to, then glance toward the doorway. Part of me expects Kyle to be leaning against the frame. He is not there. Relief slips through me so quietly I almost miss it. At least I will not have to deal with him right now.

I step into the corridor and take the narrow side route I have used for months, the one most people ignore. My bag bounces against my hip as I walk faster, then break into a light run. Halfway down the passage I look back over my shoulder to make sure no one is following. 

When I turn forward again I slam straight into something solid.

Hands catch my elbows before I can hit the ground. For one panicked second I think the wall itself has grown arms. Then I look up and every careful plan I made collapses.

Kyle is already watching me, that same easy grin in place.

“Running away already?” he asks, still holding my arms.

I cough and step back, adjusting the strap of my bag even though it does not need adjusting. “I was taking a shortcut.”

He reaches into the side bag of his motorcycle helmet and pulls out a second one, smaller and newer than the scuffed black one he usually wears. He holds it out to me.

“I came to offer you a ride.”

I stare at the helmet. It looks like it has never been used. “When did you even get that?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Does it matter?”

I sigh and turn away from him.

“I can walk. Sitting on the back of your bike is only going to draw more attention.”

His smile widens. “You already drew the attention. I’m just keeping up my end of the deal.”

“There is no deal,” I say, but the words come out weaker than I want.

He does not argue. He simply starts walking beside me when I turn away. After ten steps I stop.

“Why are you following me?”

“If you won’t sit on the bike, then I’ll walk you back. We both need to get home somehow.”

“We live on opposite sides of town.”

He does not answer. He just keeps matching my pace, hands in his pockets, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. I huff out a breath.

“Fine. This is the last time.”

He does not look surprised. He simply places the new helmet on my head, the straps still stiff, and waits while I climb onto the back of the bike. 

When I wrap my arms around his waist he glances down at my hands for a second, long enough that I curl my fingers inward without thinking. The engine growls to life and we pull away from the curb.

The ride is shorter than I expect. He parks cleanly in front of my building like he has done it a hundred times. I climb down, pull the helmet off, and turn to face him.

“How do you know where I live?”

“A birdie told me.”

“That’s a lie.” I do not have anyone close enough to tell him anything.

He shrugs again. “Well, that’s not an issue, is it? After all, you’re my girlfriend. Of course I need to study about you, know what you like and what you dislike. I just started with where you live.”

Anger flares hot and sudden. I shove the helmet back into his hands harder than necessary.

“Stay away from me.”

He does not follow. He only watches as I walk up the path, then swings a leg back over the bike and drives off. I stay on the pathway until the sound of the engine fades completely.

When I open the door Theo is standing by the window, still looking out at the empty street.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He startles and turns around, eyes wide. “Who was that big bro?”

I clear my throat. “Nobody you should know about. Come here.”

I guide him away from the glass and into the small living room. The medication on the side table does not seem to be helping as much as it should. I check the bottle, then look at him again.

“I need to run out and get more.”

His face falls a little. “You’re going out again? You always take so long to bring back the drugs. Sometimes you come back in the middle of the night,” he pauses, before continuing.

“I hope nothing is wrong sis,” he adds, quieter.

“You worry too much,” I tell him, ruffling his hair the way I always do. “I just need to get the drugs. Sometimes there are a lot of people in the store, so they sell to me later.”

He nods, but the worry stays in his eyes. I change into darker clothes, pick up the usual backpack I carry for nights like this, and step back outside. 

The street is already dim. I pull the hood up and walk into the shadows where no one else knows what waits for me after dark.