Fake it with me
Sofia held her gaze and nodded.
Something moved across Ava's face, fast and unguarded, there and gone before anyone else would have caught it, but Sofia caught it because Sofia always caught it, the specific expression of someone who had wanted something badly enough that receiving it felt almost too large to hold in a corridor on a Friday morning.
Ava had won.
Not by the margin she would have wanted. Three points over Lily, seven over Chloe, close enough that it would have gone differently a week ago, but a win, clean and official and hers.