All language subtitles for 1_4983527618146994090

Alpha Beta at Westbridge was in the
middle of rush.

The girls outside were all waiting to
get picked.

I was inside, waiting for a vote.

They were voting to kick me out of Alpha
Beta.

Every girl in Alpha Beta raised her
hand, except Ava Sinclair. She sat by

the fireplace in a high-back chair, long
legs crossed, her black dress skimming

her thighs.

She didn't look at me like a stranger on
trial. She looked like I'd been a letter

mailed three years ago.

and finally delivered tonight.

That stare made the back of my neck
tighten, and it took me straight back to

the rain three years ago.

I was 18, just getting off a late shift
at the convenience store.

Three drunk girls cornered me in an
alley, shoved me against the wall, and

stole a letter I'd written to the lead
singer in our school band, but never had

the nerve to give her.

They didn't even know the girl in the
letter.

All they needed was a girl's name on the
envelope.

Suddenly, they had proof enough to pin
me to the wall and laugh.

Rain ran off my lashes.

I hugged my backpack and pretended I
couldn't hear them.

One of them held the letter up and read
the first line out loud.

Every time you're on stage, I can't look
at anyone else.

Want it back, freak?

I lunged for it. They tossed it into a
puddle.

Then a black ankle boot came down on the
letter, not to crush it, to block

another girl from grabbing it.

Three against one, the stranger's voice
cut through the rain, cold as ice.

This is really the best fun you could
find tonight?

I never got a clear look at her face.

She held a black umbrella, headlights
waving behind her.

Girls recognized her.

Their faces changed, and they dropped my
bag and ran.

She picked up the soaked letter without
reading it, wrapped it in a

handkerchief, and handed it back.

She tilted the umbrella over me, leaving
half her own shoulder in the rain.

Her eyes passed over the girl's name on
the envelope.

No shock.

No joke.

That calm look made me think, for the
first time, that liking a girl wasn't

some dirty secret I had to confess in an
alley.

Don't let them decide who you get to
want just because they think you're not

good enough.

Before she left, she pinned a silver
iris brooch to my backpack straps.

Her fingertips brushed my wrist and
stayed there for one brief second.

I was shaking too hard to realize I'd
remember that little bit of warmth for

the next three years. It was the most
humiliating night of my life, and the

first time anyone had ever stepped in
front of me.

Three years later, I stood in Zeta
Delta's glittering hall, with that

brooch hidden inside my coat.

The chandelies lit up every beautiful,
wealthy, familiar face around me. I wore

a simple burgundy dress, shoulders back,
waist sharp. I looked just as good as

any girl in that room, but the way they
stared still made me want to disappear.

just like I had at 18.

Before going in, I'd hidden in a side
hall to call Mom.

How's the dorm? I could hear the steady
beep of an IV pump behind her. I stared

at the absurdly grand white entrance and
lied.

Pretty normal. My roommate seems nice.

Relly, every time you lie, you start
with pretty normal.

Fine. It's awful.

The place is full of rich, gorgeous
women. Mom laughed twice, then pain cut

her off.

Then don't make yourself smaller just to
give them room.

You're there because you belong there.

After we hung up, I stood outside the
door for a full minute. I felt the

silver iris through my coat, then
finally pushed the door open.

And on the big screen was the one part
of my past I never wanted anyone to see.

Riley Benny.

Disciplined for secretly recording and
distributing intimate footage.

Two years ago, I'd found my former
roommate Selena's old phone. There was a

video of another girl changing on it.

Before I could turn the phone in, the
videos were posted from my account.

Selena cried and said I'd filmed them.

No one believed the quiet, withdrawn
scholarship girl who liked women over

the girl who knew exactly how to cry on
camera.

This is who you're planning to welcome
tonight.

Blair Whitmore stood in front of the
projection.

looking flawless and pearl white.
Someone her old school labeled a threat

for secretly filming women.

Whispers rolled through the room.

How was she even allowed to rush?

You'd share a bathroom with her?

Kick her out.

My nails dug into my palm.

Before I came to Westbridge, I'd
promised Mom I wouldn't run this time.

She'd had chemo that day, and my
housing, tuition, and spot in the

charity program all depended on this
scholarship.

I couldn't leave.

At least not with them watching me run.

This is Zeta Delta's idea of a welcome?

I lifted my chin.

Then wow.

You really are as charitable as everyone
says.

Someone sucked in a breath. Blair
smiled.

We help victims.

We don't rehab abusers' reputations. She
called for an immediate vote.

One diamond-braceleted hand after
another went up.

By the eleventh hand, I finally looked
at the one person who hadn't moved.

Ava.

She stood, black satin sliding over one
shoulder. She was tall, narrow-waisted,

with the president's pin just below her
collarbone.

When she stopped in front of me, she
smelled like cedar and white flowers.

She was so close I couldn't tell if the
tightness in my chest was hate or

something worse.

This woman was painfully clear.

Gray-blue eyes, red lips pressed tight,
and a flash of anger she couldn't hide

when they humiliated me. Every part of
her felt dangerous.

I'd never questioned whether women could
turn my head.

But before Ava, every crush had been
quiet and far away, safe enough to hide

in letters I never sent.

Ava made me want to back away the second
I met her.

She also made me want to step closer and
find out what she was hiding in those

eyes.

The vote is over. Blair froze.

Twelve votes to revoke her eligibility.

I know.

Ava's eyes never left my face.

But the president gets one veto.

As she said it, her eyes dipped my coat
collar.

A silver of silver from the brooch had
slipped out.

I covered it, but the calm in her eyes
had already cracked.

I thought she recognized an old Sinclair
emblem.

I never imagined she recognized
something she'd put in my hands three

years ago.

The room exploded.

Blair kept her voice low.

Are you insane?

Not yet.

But you've been working hard on it all
night.

Then she announced I was staying, and
that I'd be co-leading the Greek Week

charity competition with her.

That project would decide whether Zeta
Delta kept its national charter and

whether I kept my scholarship.

I don't need your pity.

After the crowd cleared out, I went
after her.

When she turned, her eyes dragged over
my face, dipped to my chest, rising with

anger, then lifted like nothing
happened. That wasn't the way one woman

accidentally looked at another.

Not just accidentally, anyway.

Good. I don't have any pity to waste on
you.

Then why did you keep me here?

Because I hate watching a mob turn who
you like into evidence against you, then

decide whether you deserve to stay.

When she said who you like, her eyes
dropped to my mouth. It lasted barely a

second. Long enough to wipe the next
line out of my head. Still sounds like

pity. No.

She stepped half a step closer.

I just see you more clearly than they
do.

She pulled a key from her pocket and
placed it in my palm.

And why are you rooming with me, no
space?

How is that my problem?

Ava walked to the end of the hall and
opened a door marked President.

Only one bedside lamp was on. Two beds
sat side by side in a huge bedroom, with

one closet and one bathroom, no second
way out.

She turned back to me with a smile that
was way too pretty to be safe.

Starting tonight?

You're staying with me. Before I could
refuse, she grabbed my suitcase handle.

I grabbed it too, my hand landing right
over hers.

Neither of us let go.

Hallway light caught in her eyes. She
looked down at our hands, then back at

me, smiling even more.

I used my suitcase to draw a line
between our beds.

Ask before you cross this line.

Ava leaned against the closet doorframe,
one earring already off.

Her hair spilled over her bare shoulder.

The back of her black dress dipped low
enough to show the faint curve above her

waist.

I looked once.

Anything else?

Don't touch my stuff.

Don't answer for me. And no wet towels
in the bathroom.

That last one is fair. So are the first
two.

She walked up to the line, barefoot on
the carpet.

That flashy red polish looked even worse
next to my worn-out heels.

She leaned forward, her nose almost
crossing the surface.

Then you don't get to watch me change,
Bennett.

Relax. You're not my type.

The lie came out way too fast.

Ava caught it immediately.

Instead of being offended, she looked
like I'd just confessed something

without meaning to.

So what is your type?

Not someone who walks into a room and
makes twelve women forget how to talk.

One eyebrow rifted.

That's very specific.

It's a warning.

Ava hooked a finger under her strap and
eased it down half an inch.

She watched me, voice lazy.

Shane, I thought I was the only woman
you looked at tonight.

I grabbed my pajamas and bolted into the
bathroom.

I could hear her laughing when I shut
the door.

That laugh kept me under the shower way
too long.

Worse, I came out and realized I'd left
my toothbrush outside.

Ava was at the sink taking off her
makeup in nothing but a silk slip.

Thin straps rested on her shoulders, her
back bare to the waist, a few drops of

water sliding slowly down her spine.

The mirror caught me frozen in the
doorway.

Still not your type?

She asked through the mirror.

I'm waiting for you to move.

Ava shifted half a step, leaving just
enough room for our shoulders to brush.

After you.

I forced myself over there.

When she reached for a cotton pad, her
arm crossed in front of my chest, and

the soft side of her slip brushed my
arm.

We were just two women sharing a sink,
but my body kept translating every touch

into something else.

Your heart's rating.

The shower was too hot?

You get this nervous sharing a sink with
every woman?

Most women will deliberately leave me
six inches of space.

Ava looked down at our arms pressed
together.

So women aren't the problem?

I am.

I didn't answer.

A slow smile spread across her mouth.

You need a better excuse, Bennett.

The next morning, our sorority advisor,
Helen, called us into her study.

She skipped the complicated rules and
shoved two documents toward us.

Last year's leadership bullying scandal
has nationals ready to pull Zeta Delta's

charter. Winning the charity competition
is your last shot.

I can run it alone.

You can get rich people to write checks.

Riley can get everyone else to believe
those checks will actually help someone.

I need both of you.

Helen tapped the last page. My
scholarship was tied to the charity

program. As president, Ava was
responsible for the outcome.

If either of us quit, the program ended.

So did my scholarship.

Starting today, you attend every
meeting, fundraiser, and event together.

You're a 24-7 package deal.

That sounds like punishment.

Helen stared at us without blinking.

If you two keep talking like that, it'll
feel like punishment for me, too.

Outside the study, Ava dumped a stack of
proposals into my arms. On top sat a

black coffee, no sugar.

My name on the sleeve. How did you know
I drink it like this? This morning, you

were the only person who crossed every
syrup off the breakfast order.

You memorize every new girl's coffee.

Ava kept walking.

No, just the especially difficult ones.

Dress fitting this afternoon, alumni
tonight, budget done before midnight.

Are you always this annoying when you
boss people around?

No.

Only with people who refuse to admit
they need me.

I stared at her back and had the sudden
urge to throw the papers at her.

Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to
touch her.

That thought annoyed me even more.

We fought during our very first planning
session.

Ava wanted an expensive alumni-only
dinner.

I wanted the students who actually
needed help to tell their own stories.

Rich people don't like being lectured.
Then they can donate first and get

offended after.

Do you always insult potential donors?

Do you always package people in need
into pretty brochures?

She stared at me for a long time.

I expected to be fired on day one.

Instead, the revised plan kept every one
of my ideas and cut only the opening

line that would have made half the
alumni walk out.

Ava didn't take credit. She only wrote
in the margin, Your idea is right. Your

mouth needs supervision.

I wrote underneath, Your money is
useful. You need supervision.

The next day, she'd drawn a smiley face
beside it.

That afternoon, the dressing room was
packed with gowns for the winter events.

Mine was dark green and fitted close at
the waist.

Once I had it on, the zipper caught
below my shoulder braids.

I tried twice. My arms started to ache.

In the mirror, Ava sat on an ottoman
watching me. She was already in a silver

-gray gown, the fabric fitted softly
over her chest and rising with every

breath.

Need me?

No.

The zipper slipped lower.

She stood up.

I said I don't... You said I had to ask
before crossing the line?

I asked.

In the mirror, her eyes held mine.

My throat went dry.

Just the zipper. Of course.

Her fingertips touched my bare lower
back first.

It was barely a touch, almost
accidental.

My whole body still went tight.

Ava pinched the zipper and held the
fabric with her other hand.

Cold metal moved up my spine while her
warm knuckles brushed my skin through a

thin layer of fabric.

Too slow.

She could have done it faster. Instead,
she closed it inch by inch until her

breath touched the back of my ear.

She wasn't actually pressed against me,
but if I leaned back one inch, I'd be

against the soft curve of her chest.

She knew it, too.

Her breathing slowed like she was
fighting the exact same thought I was.

You're shaking.

It's cold in here.

Is it? She freed my hair from the
zipper, her fingertips sliding along the

side of my neck.

I spun around.

Less than half a step separated us.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth and stayed
there for a second.

I turned too fast and instinctively
planted my hand on her bare waist.

Ava's breath caught, but she didn't move
back.

Her hand stayed at my lower back too,
steady against the green fabric.

You touch all your female roommates like
this? You zip up all of theirs like

this? There aren't any others?

I looked up at her.

Me neither.

Something slammed into my chest. Her
thumb moved half an inch across my lower

back.

Neither of us looked away.

Then she stepped back like she'd only
helped her roommate fix a dress.

Fitz.

I couldn't tell if she meant the dress
or me standing in front of her.

Looking for a safety pin, I opened the
bottom drawer of the vanity.

No jewelry.

Just an old brown envelope.

It slid to the floor, and a photo fell
out.

The girl in it stood outside a
convenience store, hair wrecked by the

rain. It was me.

Not the version of me who'd learned to
hide behind a cold face and sharp words,

who turned away from cameras on
instinct.

The girl in that photo didn't know how
much one accusation could take from her.

Her eyes were red, but she was still
staring stubbornly past the camera.

Ava hadn't saved a polished version of
me.

She'd kept the moment I wanted no one to
see.

Tucked away like it mattered. A silver
iris was drawn in the corner of the

photo. Blood roared in my ears.

Ava reached for it from behind me. I
lifted out of reach first.

You investigate every partner you work
with, and you keep three-year-old photos

in your bedroom?

For the first time, her composure
cracked.

Give it to me.

No. I held the photo and moved toward
her until the vanity hit her lower back.

She had nowhere to go, but her breathing
stayed even.

Only her fingers, clenched white at her
sides, gave her away.

Three years ago?

I pressed the photo against her chest
and felt her heartbeat jumped beneath

the silver-gray fabric.

Where exactly did you see me?

Ava caught my wrist and pulled me
closer.

Her thumb pressed over my racing pulse
as her eyes slowly dropped from mine to

my lips. Her mouth parted, like she was
finally about to give me the answer.

I look into everyone I work with.

Ava said it and snatched the photo from
my hand. The answer came too fast, like

a lie she'd rehearsed a hundred times.

Your research includes hiding photos
under your underwear?

What's in my drawer is outside your
project clearance.

She slid the photo back into the
envelope, looking calm.

Her red ears said otherwise. That little
flush made me realize Ava wasn't

impossible to rattle.

I just hadn't found the right way to
completely wreck her composure yet.

Get changed.

Ava shut the drawer.

We're going to be late.

The alumni party was at an absurdly hard
estate outside town.

Nobody cared about dinner etiquette.

They cared who arrived on whose arm, who
sat at the main table, and who could add

another zero to a check.

The second Ava walked in, the whole room
noticed.

She ditched the silver-gray gown for a
sharp white suit.

Under it, she wore only a fitted black
silk top with a dangerously low

neckline. Every time she lifted her arms
to hug an alum, the fabric shifted just

enough to make looking away difficult.

I forced myself to focus on the donor
list.

I failed seven times.

The eighth was when a young alum named
Natalie came over. She had gorgeous red

hair and a little dimple when she
smiled.

She told me the color of my dress made
my eyes pop.

Rested her fingers lightly on my arm and
asked if I'd dance with her after my

speech. I knew that wasn't just
networking.

Any other night, I might have said yes.

She was pretty, direct, and didn't even
blink at my disciplinary record.

But before I could answer, a familiar
hand settled against my lower back.

Ava stepped beside me.

Riley's mine tonight. She smiled
perfectly at Natalie, while her hand

tightened slightly at my waist.

The project needs her. Natalie looked at
Ava, then me, and smiled like she got

the message.

Of course.

Call me when you're not so busy.

She wrote her number on the edge of my
donor booklet and walked away.

She was asking me out. I heard her.

Then why did you turn her down for me?

Ava looked at the number, her thumb
slowly rubbing my waist through the

dress.

Because you were polite when you looked
at her.

What kind of reason is that?

You're never polite when you look at me.

I turned to glare at her and found her
eyes inches from mine. She wasn't

smiling. Her gaze lingered on my mouth
like she was waiting for me to prove her

wrong.

You've been watching me all night.

I was deciding whether that outfit cost
more than three months of rent.

And? Waste of money. She leaned closer,
her lips almost brushing my ear.

You still looked.

Raised from behind my ear, straight
under my collar. I was about to fire

back when Blair approached with a man in
formal wear.

Gavin Reed, a trustee's son, and the guy
placed beside Ava in almost every alumni

promo photo.

He took Ava's hand, dropped to one knee,
and held up a massive diamond ring.

Applause broke out as cameras flashed.
It's just promo.

Blair smiled innocently.

Campus favorite couple, building buzz
for charity week.

Ava didn't take the ring. She didn't
even look down at Gavin. She just pulled

her hand free.

Get up. Gavin's smile froze.

Ava, everyone's watching.

Good.

Then let them see this clearly.

I'm not pretending to love a man for a
check.

Blair went pale.

It was a joke. I don't find it funny.

So you already like someone?

Ava finally turned.

She looked at me.

Those gray-blue eyes cut through
champagne, flowers, and people and

landed straight on my face.

Yes.

I do.

Nobody gasped because she liked women.
What froze the room was Ava publicly

ripping apart the perfect match her
family had chosen for her.

For some reason, that made me breathe
easier.

At least in this room, neither of us had
to apologize for wanting women.

The dangerous part was which woman she
wanted and why I wanted so badly to be

the answer.

My heartbeat went completely off rhythm.
I shouldn't have taken her words

seriously. Ava knew how to control a
room, and she knew exactly how to

humiliate Blair. But when she came to my
side and let her hand rest lightly at my

lower back, I forgot to push her away.

Happy now? She asked. You turning down a
man has nothing to do with me.

I've been wondering about that too.

Her thumb brushed the fabric at my
waist.

Why, you're the only person I wanted to
make happy.

So the woman you like is... Ava's
expression darkened.

Do you really want me to say it here?
She didn't deny it.

And suddenly I was too scared to hear
the answer.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a
server, hoping the cold drink would kill

the heat under my skin.

That's Ava's.

Her name on the glass?

Something flickered across Blair's face,
so I drank it right in front of her.

Ten minutes later, the floor started
ilting.

First my fingertips went numb, then my
legs forgot how to hold me up.

Hit the edge of a table and my glass
shattered on the floor the crash sounded

far away Ava was in front of me almost
instantly Riley look at me. She cupped

my face Her palms were cool her voice
shook. Anyway, I'm not drunk. I fought

to make every word clear. I only had one
glass Ava looked at the empty glass and

went ice-cold

She bent down and lifted me into her
arms, my face pressed against her neck.

She moved fast, her chest rising hard
beside my ear.

Put me down.

Not happening. People are looking.

Let them. On the stairs, I saw Blair
over Ava's shoulder with her phone

raised. A red recording dot blinked on
the screen.

The camera followed us.

I tried to warn Ava, but my tongue
wouldn't cooperate.

Back in our suite.

She didn't put me in her bed.

She called the on-duty nurse first.

The nurse checked my pupils and heart
rate, confirmed someone had drugged me,

and left instructions for monitoring me.

At the worst of it, I felt trapped
inside a hot, blurry fog.

Ava sat on the carpet, always one full
step away from the bed.

If I reached for her, she handed me
water.

If I said I was cold, she fixed the
blanket.

When the heat in my body made me try to
crawl into her arms, she took my hand

and gently put it back under the covers.

Didn't you say you liked me? I slurred.
She closed her eyes for a second.

That's exactly why I'm not touching you
tonight.

Liar.

Call me that when you're sober.

At four in the morning, the nurse
checked my awareness, temperature, and

responses again.

The awful weakness was finally gone.

I washed my face, finished a whole
bottle of water, and correctly named the

date, where I was, and everything that
had happened that night.

Ava still wouldn't come closer. You can
go to sleep.

I'm staying right here.

And when morning comes, are you going to
say nothing happened?

Pretend you never even looked at me?

She looked up.

Those are not the same thing.

Not to you!

You rescue whoever you want, make every
decision for them, then dump them back

in front of everyone when it gets
inconvenient.

Riley.

Don't say my name like that.

Like what?

She stood and finally crossed my line.

Like I've waited a long time to say it
that way, my breath caught.

Were you waiting for me? I held her
gaze.

Or just any woman who could help you
rebel against your family? The control

in Ava's eyes finally cracked.

If it could have been anyone?

I wouldn't keep a three-year-old photo
of you somewhere I can see it every day.

The wall around my chest didn't
disappear. It melted into something

hotter and much more dangerous.

She was close enough to touch me, but
she didn't. Tell me where you are right

now. Our room.

What time is it?

4.12.

What did you just drink?

Water. And the nurse confirmed I'm fully
alert again.

I stared at her. Any more questions,
President?

One last one.

Ava's eyes dropped to my mouth.

Do you know what you're about to do?

Yes.

And tomorrow, when you're clear-headed,
you'll still say this was your choice?

I'm clear-headed now.

I grabbed the lapples of her suit.

And what I'm about to do isn't to prove
I like women, and it isn't to help you

rebel against anyone.

I pulled her towards me, the words
landing against her lips.

I choose you. I kissed her.

Ava froze for half a second.

Then she gripped my shoulders and pushed
me back just enough to look at me.

Her breathing was rough, her forehead
against mine, but her eyes were almost

painfully clear.

Say it.

I want to kiss you.

Because of the drug?

Because you've been driving me insane
for two days. She finally smiled like

two days of restraint had just hit its
limit.

You can stop this whenever you want.

Then you'd better kiss me before I
change my mind.

Ava kissed me again.

This time, she didn't hold back.

She pulled me up from the edge of the
bed and wrapped an arm tight around my

waist.

I tasted mint and the last trace of
champagne on her lips, her body fitting

flush against mine.

I stepped back.

She followed.

She guided me toward the bedroom, her
knee brushing between my legs, the kiss

still going as the door slowly closed
behind us.

The lock clicked so softly I almost
didn't hear it. My body heard it.

Ava pinned me against the door, then
stopped.

Her hands braced on either side of me,
her breath brushing my lips, eyes locked

on mine.

Say it again.

Say what?

What you want.

Embarrassment and want rushed hot across
my face.

I was good at pushing people away before
they got close. I had no idea how to ask

for something I actually wanted.

You.

Ava's eyes went dark.

She kissed me.

One hand finally leaving the door to
settle at my waist.

Every time she moved an inch, she
paused, like she was waiting for me to

give that inch back to her.

I didn't pull away.

I caught her hand and guided it to the
zipper at the back of my dress.

Sure.

Keep asking and I might change my mind.

I'd rather you regret me asking too
much.

The zipper slid slowly down, cool night
air spilling over my back.

Her fingertips followed, tracing lightly
over each ridge of my spine.

I tipped my head back, her kiss moved
from the corner of my mouth to my jaw,

then stopped over the pulse jumping in
my neck. I hadn't known a woman's lips

could feel that soft while her breath
burned that hot.

She wrapped her arms around me and
guided me towards the bed.

After that, he asked at every step and
answered every time.

When the lights went out, I stopped
thinking about what anyone outside that

door would think of me. That night, I
remembered her saying my name over and

over, remembered how she gave me an out
every time she got closer, and how I

never once took it.

When I woke up, I was wearing Ava's
white shirt.

It fell to mid-thigh, the loose collar
doing nothing to hide the faint red mark

beside my collarbone.

Ava lay on her side next to me, blonde
hair spread over the pillow.

Without the president pin and perfect
makeup, she looked younger, and somehow

more dangerously real. She opened her
eyes. Her first question was, regret it?

Are you always this confident first
thing in the morning?

Only when I'm scared.

I froze.

Ava reached over and brushed her thumb
across the corner of my mouth.

No one hears about last night unless you
decide they do.

That wasn't denial.

At least, I wanted to believe it wasn't.
Then someone started pounding on the

door.

Ava!

Open the door. I know she's in there.
Blair shouted from the hall.

Ava got out of bed and pulled on a robe.

I dragged the blanket over my legs,
heart pounding like we'd been thrown

back into the middle of the party.

Blair started turning the handle.

Then another woman's voice cut through
the hallway.

Touch that door again and I'll have
security throw you and that phone out

together. The voice was older, bright,
confident, and carried the same hard

edge Ava had. Through the crack, I only
caught a camel coat and long, dark brown

hair. Ava was gone less than two minutes
before the front door downstairs slammed

shut. Who was that?

Someone who loves sticking her nose into
things. Ava didn't explain.

Then both our phones started buzzing at
once.

The secret video was already all over
campus.

It showed Ava carrying me upstairs while
I was barely a conscious.

Blair had cut out the nurse coming in.

She'd also cut out the part where Ava
kept her distance all night.

The headline read, Troubled student
targets another victim. This time, the

sorority president.

Every refresh brought worse comments.

People said I'd gotten drunk on purpose,
that I'd manipulated Ava.

Others dug up my old disciplinary photo
and tied my name to words like creep and

liar. My stomach twisted.

I'll handle it.

How?

First, I stopped the school from
reopening your case.

Then she left without telling me what
she planned to say.

Half an hour later, I saw campus
reporters surrounding her on the

sorority house steps.

President Sinclair, did you take Riley
Bennett back to your bedroom last night?

Did she do anything to you while she
wasn't fully conscious?

Are the two of you dating?

Under the camera flashes, Ava put her
flawless public face back on. Nothing

happened last night.

One sentence.

Clean and sharp.

It erased me from her bed, her arms, and
that kiss in one shot.

Whatever she said after that, I didn't
hear it. All I heard was nothing

happened, so I'd read it wrong after
all.

She could tell me she wanted me in the
dark, but in daylight she couldn't even

admit I existed.

I went back to the suite to change.

The sheets still held last night's messy
trinkles. Her white shirt lay by my

feet. I picked it up, and the scent of
cedar clung to my fingers.

Only hours ago, I'd been wearing it in
her arms while she kept asking if I

regretted it anything.

Now that tenderness felt like testimony
only I remembered.

I meant to throw the shirt onto her bed.

Instead, I folded it perfectly and hid
it in the back of the closet.

That made me hate myself more.

Apparently my body missed last night
more than my pride did.

At the emergency recruitment meeting
that afternoon, I sat in the last row.

The other members looked at me like I
was something contagious.

One girl trampled as she passed and
dumped an entire cup of cranberry juice

down the front of my dress.

Red liquid ran down the fabric while a
few laughs slipped out around the room.

Worse than the laughs were the people
who immediately looked away.

They didn't all hate me. They might not
even believe the rumors.

They just didn't want to be the next
person everyone talked about.

That kind of silence had pushed me out
before, one step at a time.

Selina wasn't the only person who hurt
me.

So did everyone who decided not my
problem was enough to keep their hands

clean. Sorry, my hand slipped. Before I
could stand, Ava snatched the empty cup

out of her hand.

Pack your things.

What?

You're out of recruitment.

Ava slammed the cup onto the table.

Zeta Delta doesn't throw out people
because they're being attacked by

rumors. We do throw out people who
attack others.

The entire room went silent.

Ava took off her jacket and moved to put
it over my shoulders.

I knocked it away.

Don't touch me.

Her hand stopped in maff air.

Riley, let me explain.

You already explained perfectly.

I looked up at her, eyes burning, and
refused to let the tears fall.

Nothing happened last night, right?

I said that because if nothing happened,
I stepped back. Who are you protecting

now? I turned for the door.

Her footsteps rushed after me, then a
hand reached for my wrist.

Ava didn't catch me.

Her fingertips only bruised my skin, and
I yanked my hand back like she'd burned

me.

That night, I started packing.

I shoved clothes into my suitcase until
the zipper refused to close.

Ava stood on her side of the line.

No orders, no stopping me.

She just watched me kneel on the
suitcase again and again, trying to

force it shut. There aren't any empty
rooms.

I'll sleep on the couch.

Helen won't allow it.

Then I'll live off campus.

With what rent money?

I froze.

Ava regretted it immediately.

The apology in her eyes hurt worse than
pity.

None of your business.

I shoved a sweater back into the
suitcase.

I'll do the project. I'll go to the
meetings.

Outside of work, we're nothing.

And last night?

According to President Sinclair's
official statement, nothing happened

last night. Her jaw tightened.

Don't do that.

Do what? Keep your story straight for
you?

I didn't move out.

Not because of Ava. Because even the
cheapest room off campus would have cost

Mom two weeks of medication.

So we kept sleeping in beds less than
ten feet apart, like two people too

stubborn to admit we'd been hurt. At
night, I could hear Ava turning over in

bed. She stopped wearing the silk slip.
She stopped lingering at my line, just

to tease me. We slept with our backs to
each other.

But the room was full of that night.

The click of the lock. The light she'd
switched off. The way my name had almost

broken in her voice.

Once, I woke up in the middle of the
night and found her watching me. Our

eyes met. She looked away first.

That hurt more than any of her teasing
ever had.

I worked on the project by day and
picked up shifts at an alumni bar at

night. The manager paid cash, which
meant I could cover part of Mom's

hospital bill before the next overdue
notice hit. On my third night shift, Mom

sent me a photo.

She was smiling in the red knit hat I'd
mailed her. The back of her hand was

still bruised where the IV had been
taped down. I zoomed in, then closed the

photo fast.

Bennett? Someone called from across the
bar.

Two drunk alumni were holding up their
phones, comparing me to the video.

One woman turned her screen to the
other.

Ava was carrying me upstairs in the
clip. It really is her.

Zeta Delta lets people like this in now?

I pretended I hadn't heard and kept
polishing glasses.

A 20 hit the bar in front of me.

Show me your phone. Prove you're not
filming anybody and the 20's yours.

That bill was uglier than the insult.
They knew I needed money. My manager

never hid it when he made the schedule.

Scholarship kids, he said. Knew how to
take crap, so we were perfect for the

shifts nobody wanted. They were betting
I'd swallow my pride for 20 bucks.

They were also betting the manager
wouldn't risk upsetting alumni who

tipped well.

I glanced toward the kitchen.

Sure enough, my manager looked away.

People around them laughed.

I can close your tab. I push the cash
back.

But you're not seeing my phone.

Got something to hide? She reached for
it. I backed into the liquor shelf, and

a bottle of whiskey smashed on the
floor.

The manager poked his head out, saw the
troublemaker was a regular, and only

told me not to make a scene.

The woman threw half a drink in my face.

Alcohol ran into my eyes and burned.

I heard phones recording.

I heard the same sniffling I'd known for
the last two years.

Then the bar door opened.

Ava walked in wearing a dark coat, snow
still on her shoulders.

She took in my face, a broken glass, and
every raised phone.

One cold look from her shut the whole
bar up.

Delete it.

This is a public place.

It's also property owned by the Sinclair
Foundation.

I can ask you to delete it, or my
lawyers and the police can ask with me.

The phones dropped immediately.

She didn't touch me. She only asked, Can
you walk?

I'm working.

You're bleeding.

That was when I noticed the broken glass
had cut my calf.

Ava took off her coat, wrapped it around
me, and led me into the storage room and

back. Once the door shut, The cramped
space held nothing but shelves, cleaner,

and all the breathing we'd been holding
in for days.

Were you following me?

You've come back at two in the morning,
three nights in a row, smelling like

alcohol. I asked Helen.

So you investigated me again.

I worried about you.

She crowd to check my leg.

I tried to move away, but my back hit a
metal cabinet. Her hand steadied at the

side of my knee, warmth coming through
my tights. It's barely a cut.

I know.

Ava looked up.

I just needed to see for myself.

She stood and used a tissue to wipe the
liquor from my face.

When her fingers passed the corner of my
mouth, I turned away.

Don't only be good to me when no one's
watching.

Her hands stopped.

The reporters weren't asking if we
kissed. They were asking whether you

crossed a line while you weren't fully
conscious. If I admitted we went into

the bedroom... The school would have
reopened your case, frozen your

scholarship, and called your sober
consent a PR lie.

So you decided the best way to protect
me was to erase me?

Yes. She didn't defend herself.

I was wrong.

I hadn't expected her to admit it. For
once, I had nothing to say. I should

have told you first. We should have
decided together what to say. Ava moved

closer, then stopped before touching me.

I'm used to blocking the damage first
and explaining the cost later. But you

don't need another person controlling
your life.

What was that night to you? She looked
at me. No polished president left in

those gray-blue eyes. Just the truth,
cornered with nowhere else to go. Not a

mistake.

Not a relationship either.

Because you tried to run the next
morning.

Because every time I get close to a
woman, somebody says I'm dangerous.

My voice went rough.

Do you know what that does to you? I
look at you too long and start wondering

if I'm making you uncomfortable.

Ava lifted her hand and stopped beside
my face.

Can I touch you?

I didn't answer.

So she really didn't move.

Her waiting was more dangerous than her
confidence.

She left the choice with me and took
every excuse away. Why does it have to

be me?

I asked. That was the real question
underneath all the others. I could

believe she wanted to kiss me.

I couldn't believe she'd still want me
after seeing all my mess, insecurity,

and old scars.

Wanting someone only takes one night.
Choosing them means staying after every

sunrise.

Because you're the only person who saw
my last name, my money, and my title,

and still told me to get lost. I laughed
once, even as my eyes burned.

That's a terrible reason.

I've got a worse one.

Her voice dropped.

I want you. Not my partner on a project.

Not somebody to save. Not a mistake I
hide in a bedroom.

You. Her fingertips were still an inch
from me.

I caught her wrist and pulled her hand
across that last inch toward the strip

of bare skin above my torn tights. The
storage room handle suddenly turned.

Riley?

The manager called from outside.

The police are here. They need your
statement.

I let go of Ava's hand.

Ava closed her eyes like she was
mentally sentencing that doorknob to

death. When she opened them again,
President Sinclair was back.

Before leaving, she leaned to my ear.
The door saved you this time.

You didn't turn me down.

Ego much?

You like it.

Obviously, I denied that. The next
morning, Blair announced that Ava and

Graven would be shooting alumni promo
photos together.

Sponsors like stable, respectable
pairings. She looked straight at me.

Not every relationship belongs in front
of a camera.

My fork hit my plate hard. Before Ava
could answer, I smiled.

Perfect. President Sinclair's great at
pretending nothing happened. Her eyes

went cold instantly.

Blair looked delighted and slid an
invitation towards me. You can bring a

date to the shoot.

Dan Moore needs a partner.

She's a woman, so you should like her.

It was cheap, obvious bait, but Ava was
watching me.

Sure.

I took the card.

At least nobody picked a fiancé for her.

On shoot day, Gavin wore a navy suit and
kept one very proper hand at Ava's

waist. The photographer told them to
move closer. Ava did, without a hint of

warmth on her face.

I should have enjoyed that.

Unfortunately, Danny knew exactly how to
play along. She was tall, dimpled.

and even asked before wrapping an arm
around my waist.

Is this okay?

Yeah. I answered loud enough for Ava to
hear.

Danny leaned my ear and whispered, Your
president looks like she wants to bury

me behind the house.

She's not mine.

Then why has she been glaring at my hand
for 30 seconds?

I wanted to look. I forced myself not
to.

She has control issues.

Good news. I don't steal other people's
women.

Danny politely moved her hand a little
higher.

Bad news.

You two are both terrible liars.

There is no you two.

Of course not. She smiled at the camera.

I'm just a prop in a lesbian jealousy
contest I got drafted into.

Ava looked over. The second the shutter
flashed, she removed Gavin's hand from

her waist.

Ten minutes later, she claimed she
needed to fix my dress and dragged me

into an empty fitting room.

The door shut behind us.

Mirrors caught us from three sides. The
hem of her white dress tangled around my

heel, and I nearly fell into her arms.

What are you doing?

Danny touched you.

She's my partner.

Her hand was too low.

And Gavin's hand is somehow classy?

Ava stepped closer.

So you're jealous.

I'm saying you and your fake boyfriend
photograph really well together.

I didn't even look at him.

I noticed.

So you were watching me.

There it was again.

Every time I thought I had the upper
hand, she said one thing and backed me

straight into a wall.

Ava planted one hand on the mirror
behind me.

Her dress brushed mine with every quick
breath.

Her knee slipped between my legs, but
she still left me enough room to walk

away. You grabbed my hand last night.
The door opened. What if it hadn't?

What answer are you looking for?

The truth.

Her mouth was close enough that I could
taste coffee on her breath.

Somehow my hand had already fist in the
fabric at her waist.

One pull and she'd kiss me.

Then nothing happened, flashed through
my head.

I let go.

I'm not hiding in fitting rooms forever
just to be your secret.

Ava looked like I'd slapped her.

She stepped back, the heat in her eyes
giving way to something softer.

You're not a secret.

I just haven't learned how to protect
you in public without making your

choices for you.

Come back when you have.

I opened the door.

Blair was standing in the hall. She held
up her phone. On the screen was an

edited version of the party video,
framed to look suggestive enough to

destroy what was left of my reputation.
Quit the sorority.

Or the next cut will make everyone think
Ava was your victim.

Two.

Post-it. I sounded calmer than I felt.
Ava knows what happened that night. That

won't matter. People ask why a sorority
president slept with a member who

already has a disciplinary record.

Blair leaned closer.

When the sponsors walk, Nationals
investigates.

And her father freezes the money. How
long do you think she'll keep loving

you? She hit the exact question.

I was too scared to ask Ava. I didn't
back down in front of Blair.

After she left, I stood against the wall
for a long time.

The fake video wasn't the strongest part
of her threat. It was how easily she

made my fear sound like common sense.

Are you this scared of me staying
because of the sorority or because of

her? Blair's smile vanished.

As she lowered her phone, a new message
popped up at the top of the screen.

Selena, I'll be there at six.

I brought all the old stuff.

My blood went cold. The last time I'd
seen Selena was after my disciplinary

hearing two years ago. She stood on the
steps getting hugged while I carried a

box out of the dorm.

When she passed me, she whispered so
only I could hear.

You should be grateful.

I only made them think you're dangerous.

I'd never understood what she meant. Now
she was coming back with the old stuff.

And I finally understood she might still
have something that could nail the lie

back into place for good. Why is she
coming?

Blair saw my face and smiled again.

Who? She walked away, heels clicking
like a countdown to the nightmare from

two years ago. At the Project Cocktail
event that evening, I couldn't find Ava

anywhere. She was out on the terrace
surrounded by alumni, Gavin beside her.

Blair had vanished too.

I sent Ava three messages, none
delivered.

I should have gone straight to the
terrace.

Instead, I refused to look like some
idiot fighting Gavin for attention.

Pride kept me frozen while Selina's name
tightened around my throat from

somewhere deep in my memory. You look
pale.

Madison, one of the younger members,
came over.

Have a drink. She handed me a pale pink
spurtzer. Her fingers were shaking, and

she wouldn't meet my eyes.

You okay?

Yeah. Just crowded in here.

i looked toward the terrace and finally
caught ava's profile through a gap in

the crowd gavin leaned down to talk to
her she didn't move away jealousy hit

before the warning in my head could i
took the glass under madison's nervous

stare i lifted the cold rim slowly
towards my lips

the

drink was sweet so sweet i could barely
taste the alcohol let alone what was

hidden in it i drank half and left the
rest on the table madison looked like

she'd finished some assignment she
mumbled something about the bathroom and

disappeared into the crowd i texted eva
again this time the words on my screen

started doubling it wasn't alcohol my
stomach wasn't warm My head was clear,

but my body felt like someone had pulled
the plug. My fingers slipped off my

phone. My knees gave out. I caught the
wall as the music slowed into a heavy

blur. Someone grabbed my arm from
behind.

Riley? That voice turned my whole body
cold.

Selena, she looked exactly the way I
remembered.

Chestnut curls, pale eyes, and a face
built to make people believe her

concern. Two years ago, she'd worn that
same face in front of the disciplinary

board, crying that I'd filmed her, and
that she was scared to share a room with

me. Let go of me. My words came out
clear.

My body didn't have enough strength to
pull away.

She's sick.

Selena told people as they passed.

I'm her old roommate. I'll take her
somewhere to lie down.

Ava. She's busy taking pictures with
Graven. Selena leaned to my ear. All the

sweetness gone from her voice.

You really think a Sinclair would wreck
her life for you? She half dragged, half

carried me upstairs.

As my shoes scraped the hallway carpet,
the silver iris brooch on my chest

caught on a doorborn.

The pin snapped loose and hit the floor.

I tried- to reach for it, Selena only
moved faster.

A guest room was already lit. A small
camera sat beside the bed, a red light

blinking in the dark. My old phone case
was on the nightstand too, identical to

the one in the evidence photos from two
years ago. This wasn't spontaneous.

They were staging past all over again.

Selena shoved me onto the bed. I tried
to push myself up. My arms barely felt

like mine's. She took my phone, opened
the camera, placed it beside the pillow,

then tugged one strap of her dress.
loose. I started counting things in the

room. One lamp, two pillows, three folds
in the curtain.

My therapist had taught me that when
fear dragged me into the past, I needed

to grab onto what was real in front of
me. But when I got to number four and

saw the camera's red light, every
exercise disappeared.

I hated that my body wouldn't move. I
hated even more that my first thought

was, they're going to believe her again,
not that I might get hurt.

Not that I might die, that I'd survive
and still have to prove myself all over

again. Smile.

Tomorrow the whole campus gets to see
you never changed.

It was you?

I bit my tongue hard enough to hurt and
stole back a little of my voice.

You filmed it back then. She bent over
me and dragged my hand toward her bare

shoulder. They believed me.

Fear poured into my chest like ice
water. I was back in that windowless

interview room from two years ago,
everyone asking why the phone was in my

hand, why the account was mine, why
Selena was crying. I said it wasn't me

so many times that eventually even I
sounded like I was lying.

Selena pressed my hand against her body
and turned toward the camera with a

terrified expression.

A crash exploded outside the door.

The lock burst open.

Ava stood in the doorway, grasping the
iris brooch that had fallen off me. She

saw the camera, then Selena holding my
hand against her. The last bit of color

drained from her face. Get away from
her! Selena dropped me and clutched her

chest. She tricked me in here! She was
trying to- Ava grabbed the camera and

smashed it into the wall. The plastic
casing shattered.

The red light blinked twice before
dying.

Save your story for the cops. She
wrapped me in her coat.

selina tried to block the door one look
from eva made her move before eva picked

me up she still asked may i even then in
all that chaos she remembered i used

what little strength i had to nod Only
then did she slide one arm under my

knees and one behind my back and lift me
off that staged bed. As we left, I saw a

memory card roll out beside the smashed
camera.

Ava nudged it into the hallway with her
shoe and handed it to Helen, making sure

Selina couldn't take the only original
evidence.

Ava. I grabbed her collar.

Don't leave me here.

I won't. She lifted me tighter.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

downstairs had turned into chaos someone
called the police someone else killed

the music i buried my face against ava
and still felt cameras following us

blair stood at the back of the crowd her
phone hanging at her side she saw me

looking and slowly turned off the screen
in the ambulance the drug made the heat

under my skin worse i was terrified of
being touched but my body still wanted

to move towards the one person who felt
safe i reached for ava's face and tried

to kiss her she caught my hand kissed my
knuckles once, then tucked it back under

the blanket. Not tonight.

I'm awake. You know who I am.

That doesn't mean your body can make
choices for me right now.

I want you.

Ava's eyes went red.

Tell me again when every bit of the drug
is gone.

I'll wait.

She sat close enough for me to reach
her.

and far enough that I never felt trapped
by her body. Whenever the ambulance

jolted, she only protected my head and
shoulders, nothing more.

Hospital lights passed over me one after
another. Blood draws, exams, police

questions, it all broke into blurry
pieces.

I only remembered Ava staying by the
bed, letting me squeeze her fingers

white without pulling away.

Once, the drug jolted me awake.

A nurse had fixed my pajama collar and
pulled the blanket all the way to my

shoulders. Ava sat in a chair by the
door, even farther from the bed than

before. Why are you sitting over there?

You got scared when I came close
earlier.

She didn't treat my reflex as rejection,
and she didn't act like saving me meant

I owed her trust.

She just moved the chair, somewhere I
could see her, without feeling cornered.

Near dawn, the doctor said the dose
wouldn't cause cause permanent damage.

I finally relaxed, sleep pulling me
under.

Ava... I called her name with my eyes
closed.

I'm here.

How do you always find me? She didn't
answer. I still had a hundred questions.

Why did the iris brooch look like a
distress signal to her? Why had she kept

that three-year-old photo in her drawer?
But the drugs and exhaustion dragged

every question far away. The only thing
still clear was Ava, awake all night,

still afraid to touch me without asking.

i cracked my eyes open and saw her bend
closer blonde hair slipped over her

shoulder and brushed my cheek her
eye-prode came closer her breath

stopping at the last inch while my chin
lifted towards her on its own

in

the end eva only pressed her forehead to
mine no kiss After a few seconds, she

sat back like that last inch was a line
she'd rather torture herself than cross.

I woke at 9 to more than 400 unread
messages.

Selena had managed to keep part of the
secret footage.

The clip was edited down to her sitting
on the bed with her dress messed up

while I lay there reaching toward her.
The campus forum paired it with my old

disciplinary record. The headline was
even worse.

Repeat voyeur target Zeta Delta. Second
victim emerges.

people posted my class schedule and the
address of my part-time job someone

asked why a woman like that was allowed
to live in a house full of girls another

comment said liking women wasn't the
problem using attraction as an excuse to

violate people was that one hurt the
most because it sounded reasonable i

flipped my phone face down but my hand
kept shaking mom called at exactly the

wrong moment i couldn't answer i was
afraid she'd hear my voice and afraid

the comments had already found her too
when the call stopped she texted me you

don't have to explain i knew you before
any screen did one sentence almost broke

me but her trust felt heavy too i didn't
want her taking strangers cruelty on top

of treatment when she was already at her
weakest stop reading ava came over from

the window she hadn't slept she'd only
changed into a wrinkled shirt and faint

shadows sat under her eyes. But she
already had the hospital results,

hallway footage, and several printed
witness statements organized in her

hands.

They're right. I heard myself say it.
Every time I show up, somebody gets

hurt. Ava leaned over, bracing both
hands beside the hospital bed.

Look at me. I refused.

She didn't touch my face or force me.
She just waited. Eventually, I looked

up. You were the one who got hurt last
night.

She said each word slowly.

Someone drugged you, dragged you into a
room with a camera, moved your body

around, and cut together the story they
wanted.

The shame is not yours.

But everyone saw.

Then we'll show them the whole thing.

Two hours later, we went back to the
sorority house. The hall was packed with

members and representatives from
nationals.

Blair stood by the fireplace, still
wearing her vice president pin. Selena

was nowhere in sight.

Ava connected a laptop to the big
screen.

She didn't bury anyone in rules.

She showed three things.

First, the hospital report proving I'd
been drugged. Second, the raw hallway

footage. It showed Selena dragging me
into the room while I could barely

stand. Minutes later, Ava followed the
broge I dropped to the door. Third, an

audio recording.

Outside the hospital, Madison had broken
down and admitted Beller paid her $5,000

to put the drug in my drink. She said
Beller promised it would only create a

suggestive misundisting and that nobody
would get hurt. The hall went dead

silent, color drained from Blair's face.

She's lying. Madison needs money. She'd
say anything.

The transfer came from an account in
your father's name. Ava pulled up the

final screenshot.

Want the bank to lie for you too? Helen
stepped forward and removed Blair's vice

president pin. The metal hit the tray
with a sharp little sound that felt like

a verdict. Blair didn't look at Helen.
She stared straight at me. That only

proves what happened last night.

What about two years ago? My breathing
stopped.

The original school's phone is gone.

The cloud records were deleted.

She smiled slowly.

Riley is still officially disciplined
for secretly filming women. Protect her

today. and tomorrow every alum will be
asking whether her daughter is safe in

this house the room stirred again eva
instinctively moved to step in front of

me i stepped back to get this evidence
she'd already angered alumnis stripped

her own vice-president and exposed an
internal scandal to nationals the more

she did for me the more terrified I
became that one day she'd look back and

total up the cost.

In my experience, love had never been
free. It only looked like a gift before

the bill came due. Suddenly, I
understood what Blair was really holding

over us. Not evidence.

Cost. As long as I stayed beside Ava,
her presidency, her family name, and

Zita Delks' future would stay dragged
through the mud with me.

Maybe she was willing now.

But what happened when she lost more and
more?

The truth we just showed didn't make
everyone instantly choose my side. Some

members looked away. Some alumni were
already threatening to pull donations in

the group chat.

Ava could win one hearing for me. She
couldn't put the whole world on trial

every day. And I knew exactly what
happened when love started feeling like

a burden.

People said they'd stay.

Then they started counting what they'd
lost because of you. In the end, they

made you apologize for the choices they
made. I couldn't wait around for someone

else to regret loving me. She's right.
Ava snapped her head toward me.

Riley, I'm leaving the project.

No!

You don't get to decide that for me.
That landed. Ava's hand stopped in

midair, then slowly lowered.

Rain started outside.

I left the hall. She followed me all the
way to the porch.

Wind blew rain onto my face, taking me
back to the 18-year-old girl who had

hated herself in another storm. You
can't shove me away every time you're

scared. I'm not scared.

I finally figured out we're wrong for
each other.

That's not what you said in the
ambulance last night.

Drug reaction.

Her face went pale. I forced myself to
keep going. The first time was impulse,

too. You saved me, and I confused
gratitude with attraction.

I'm clear now.

Look at me and say it. I looked up and
almost broke the second I met her eyes.

Ava came closer without touching me. I
don't believe you.

That's your problem. Fine.

Then hear mine. She took a breath. For
the first time, there was no tease in

her voice and no order. I like you,
Riley. Not because of the project.

Not because you need help.

Not because of that night. The rain came
down harder.

I like fighting with you.

I like that you stand straight even when
you're terrified. I like that every time

you look at me, you frown first, then
sneak a second look.

I know I've messed up, but I... Stop!

I can learn to wait.

I can be public.

I can give the choices back to you. I
just need you to know I... I ran into

the rain. I didn't look back because one
more word and I would have thrown myself

right back into her arms. The rain
blurred everything ahead.

Then I heard Ava running down the steps
behind me. I grabbed a cold iron gate

and started to push it open.

A hand reached past my shoulder and
stopped the iron gate. Ava didn't grab

me, she just pushed her umbrella into my
hand. You can go, she stood in the rain,

blonde hair soaking through almost
instantly.

Just stop hurting yourself to prove you
don't need me, then she stepped back.

For the first time, Ava actually let me
leave. I stood outside clutching the

umbrella, I'd finally gotten the choice
I'd wanted, and somehow my chest felt

hollow. For the next three days, we only
talked about work. The scandal nearly

froze the number on our donation wall.

Alumni pulled checks.

Vendors cancelled.

Every member who passed the empty
digital board in the hall lowered her

head. I knew what the problem was. So, I
wrote a withdrawal letter. If I left,

Zeta Delta could publicly cut ties with
the controversy.

And Ava wouldn't have to gamble her
position on someone whose old case still

couldn't be cleared. When I put the
letter on Helen's desk, another envelope

was already there. Resize Nation as
President.

Signed, Ava Sinclair.

Has she lost her mind? I grabbed the
letter.

Interesting. She said the exact same
thing when she saw yours.

The door opened and Ava walked in. She
saw her resignation in my hand and

stopped.

Give that back.

What good does quitting do?

It means I take responsibility.

The sorority needs you. It needs you
too.

I only keep dragging everyone down.

Enough. Helen tore both letters in half.
You both keep calling self-sacrifice

noble. It's still just making choices
for each other. The pieces fell into the

trash. Helen told us nationals had
refused to replace either lead. From now

on, every fundraiser, rehearsal, and
alumni meeting required both of us. If

either one walked, Zeta Delta would be
treated as voluntarily giving up its

charter. So either finish this together,
or watch this house close together.

Ava and I walked out of the study in
silence.

I'm not staying for you.

Obviously.

You're staying for everyone.

I just happen to be part of everyone. I
glared at her.

For the first time in days, she smiled.

That night, Ava moved back into the
president's suite.

She'd been sleeping in the downstairs
office since her confession.

Her bed looked exactly as she'd left it,
a few blonde hairs still on the pillow.

I pretended not to notice and shoved my
loot case back between the beds. The

line still counts, I remember.

And don't come near me while I'm asleep.

Last time, you were the one who crawled
over.

i did not must have been some other
riley clutching my shirt and saying my

name i threw a pillow at her ava caught
it laughed and placed it back on my side

without crossing the line she really had
learned to wait the next morning coffee

and slightly burnt toast sat beside my
bed she didn't say she'd made them a

note read don't drink coffee on an empty
stomach project partners who pass out

are annoying the toast was less burnt
the second day By day three, she

remembered I hated peanut butter and
switched to the strawberry jam Ma Mom

always bought. When I asked how she
knew, she said she'd seen the little

packet on Margaret's breakfast tray at
the hospital. She never acted like

remembering these things deserved
credit, like paying attention to me was

as normal as breathing. I started
leaving coffee for her, too.

She liked a double-it espresso, but
forgot the sugar when she was nervous.

Neither of us asked whether two cups
inching closer across the table every

day looked a lot like dating. At
meetings, she stopped answering for me.

If someone challenged my plan, she'd
look at me first. Only after I finished

would she slide the data across the
table to back me up. At night, we edited

vein-grazing cost from opposite ends of
the same long table. She got so tired,

she propped her head in one hand.

I stared a few seconds too long,
counting how many months of rent my

outfit costs again. Her eyes stayed
closed, counting how long before you

face peek into your laptop.

If I do, are you catching me?

Depends on my mood. She smiled anyway.

We changed the plan from a luxury dinner
to a small donation event any student

could join. No complicated competition.

Everyone wrote down who they wanted to
help, then gave whatever amount they

could afford.

The first night brought in only a few
hundred dollars.

Ava didn't complain.

She carefully taped every message card
to the wall until two in the morning.

Back in the room, she slid a mug of warm
milk across the suitcase line.

For me?

Is there a third person in here?

Maybe. You keep a three-year-old photo
of me hidden in this room. Her smile

faded a little.

That photo wasn't taken secretly.

Then what was it? I can't tell you yet.

I pushed the milk back.

then i don't want it she pushed it
toward me again my secret has nothing to

do with you drinking milk it does to me
we pushed the mug back and forth three

times over the suitcase then her hand
landed over mine we both stopped

her

palm was warm a faint ink smudge stained
one finger-fin from hours of writing if

i turned my hand over Our fingers would
lace together.

And suddenly I realized every time she
stopped now, every time she waited, felt

more intimate than all the bold ways
she'd approached me before.

She wasn't touching anywhere dangerous.
She was just making me feel completely

heard. Ava let go first.

Good night, Riley.

She left the choice on the table. And
the milk, too. I drank it.

Rain woke me in the middle of the night.

Ava had fallen asleep at the desk, with
her laptop still open to Mom's treatment

fundraiser page.

Her face rested on her arm. Without the
sharpness she wore all day, her mouth

looked unfairly soft.

I picked up a blanket and laid it over
her shoulders.

Half asleep, she caught my wrist. Not
hard, just an instinctual little hold,

like she didn't want me gone.

I crouched beside her, watching the
shadow of her lashes.

remembering that bedroom door, every
question she'd asked, and the last inch

she'd left between us at the hospital.

I gently slipped my hand free and
escaped to the bathroom.

Hot water ran over me as the mirror
fogged white.

I closed my eyes and saw nothing but her
mouth, heard her low voice, felt the

warmth of her hand at my waist after I'd
given permission.

I couldn't lie to my son anymore and
call that gratitude. The water shut off.

I wrapped the towel tighter and stared
at the flushed woman in the mirror.

It was quiet outside.

All I had to do was open the door. Ava
was only a few steps away. My hand

closed around the bathroom handle and
slowly pushed it down.

When I opened the door, Ava was already
back in bed. She lay on her side with

her back to me, breathing evenly. I
couldn't tell if she was really asleep

or giving me an easy way to pretend
nothing happened.

i stood by the line for a long time then
i went back to my own bed coward i

wasn't sure whether i meant me or the
woman who was obviously awake and still

refused to turn around the next day was
the women's charity basketball game i

didn't know the fancy rules and nobody
expected me to be the star my job was

simple Pass Ava the ball, don't fall
over, and try not to make Zeta Delta

lose by too much. While we changed
before the game, my jersey got stuck on

my shoulder.

Ava came up behind me and smoothed the
fabric down, her fingers brushing the

still dry skin at my waist.

Nervous? Worried you're a sore loser?

I'm more worried you skipped breakfast
again.

She pulled an energy bar from her bag
and held it right to my mouth in front

of everyone.

the locker room immediately filled with
muffled laughter i have hands i know eva

kept holding it there they're busy tying
your shoes i took a bite her thumb

accidentally brushed my lower lip her
eyes stayed there half a second before

she pulled back like nothing happened
someone nearby whistled warm up but when

she turned away her ears were as red as
mine I only managed half of the first

two things on my list. Less than five
minutes into the game, I tripped over my

own shoelace. Ava came flying in from
the side, caught the ball with one hand,

and wrapped the other around my waist.

Told you I'd catch you. She was
breathing hard. Her athletic top was

damp with sweat, clinging to her chest
and stomach.

Her bare arms circled my waist, skin hot
against me.

For a second, I forgot why I was
standing in the middle of a basketball

court. You only promise that if you
face-planted into a laptop?

Policy expanded. Someone in the stands
whistled. I got back on my feet fast,

ears burning.

Ava didn't tease me. For the rest of the
game, she yelled my name before every

pass. When I messed up, she covered for
me. When I finally made a basket, she

was the greatest person to run over and
hug me.

For that moment, I wasn't the campus
villain. I wasn't someone waiting to be

proven innocent.

I was just a college girl who'd made a
shot and was being held by the woman she

liked. We won by one point.

Then the lights went down and a giant
pink heart appeared on the scene.

Kiss cam. The camera swept the stands,
then stopped on me and Ava.

The cheering hit like a wave, my whole
body locked up, phones everywhere, eyes

everywhere, I saw forum headlines again,
Selena's red recording light, people

asking whether women were safe around
me, Ava let go immediately.

We don't have to. She waved no at the
camera and turned, ready to block the

joke from me. She really wasn't going to
pressure me. She didn't even give me

that look that usually killed half my
brain cells. So, this time, I didn't

want to run.

Ava, she turned back. I grabbed the damp
collar of her jersey, rose onto my toes,

and kissed her.

Just once, soft and quick, her lips were
warm, tasting faintly like citrus sports

drink. The stands exploded.

The cheers shook the floor.

Ava still didn't open the crisp. She
only hovered a hand behind my waist and

waited for me to pull away first.

That was public, she murmured. I know.

The camera's still on us.

Remind me again and I'll regret it.

She smiled like every light in the arena
had landed on her face. Back in the

locker room, nobody interrogated me the
way I'd feared.

One teammate tossed me a towel and said
the kiss was better than the winning

shot. Another seriously told me that if
anyone posted another malicious edit,

she'd testify with the rest of the team.
I thanked them with a smile, but my

chest started tightening.

their kindness didn't erase my fear it
made me realize i had more to lose now

not just ava but everyone who finally
started believing me the video was

online before we even got back to the
house most comments were supportive some

said i was using ava to clean up my
image the likes climbed faster and

faster while it got harder and harder to
breathe on the way out of the arena a

stranger shouted You two are adorable.

Then someone behind us muttered that the
sorority better put locks on every

bathroom. One cruel comment crushed a
hundred kind ones.

Ava stopped and started to turn. I
grabbed her hand.

Don't. She didn't, but I could feel her
hand shaking inside mine. That was when

I realized going public didn't only mean
I could get hurt. Every word thrown at

me would hit her too. What had I done?

Would one public kiss make the school
investigate again? Would it make the

alumni pull the rest of their money?
Would Ava eventually realize the trouble

that came with me weighed more than
liking me ever could?

I locked myself in the sweet bathroom.

Ava didn't pound on the door. She sat
down outside, her back against the other

side of the door, lined up with mine.
Riley, I need to be alone.

Okay. And she actually went quiet. A
long time passed before she spoke again.

That kiss doesn't make you owe me
anything.

Tomorrow, you can call it a mistake.

You can keep us private.

You can decide we're only project
partners.

You wouldn't be mad?

I'd be hurt.

But my feelings aren't a weapon I get to
use on you.

I press my palm to the door. Warmth
answered from the other side.

She must have put her hand in the same
place.

What if I'm never brave enough? I can
wait.

What if I never want people to know?
Then they won't.

You're a Sinclair.

Your president?

You'd really hide forever?

I'll wait for your choice.

I just won't lie and say I don't like
you anymore.

Her voice came through the door, low and
clear.

Riley, I like you.

Whether you open this door or not
doesn't change that.

Tears fell before I could stop them. I
finally understood.

The woman outside didn't need me to be
brave right away. She was telling me I

was still worth loving while I was
scared.

I grabbed the lock, but my body gave out
before my mind did. Rain, no sleep, and

days of barely eating hit me all at
once. My forehead burned, and my vision

went black.

The door opened barely an inch before I
pitched forward.

Ava shouted my name from outside.

She shoved the door open and reached for
me, just as I fell out of the last strip

of light into her arms.

Ava caught me. When I woke again, cold
hospital lights were over my head. Ava

sat beside the bed, still wearing her
jacket from the game. One hand held

mine. The other held a thermometer. She
looked like my 102 degree fever was a

conspiracy I'd planned personally.

When did you last eat a real meal?

That's your greeting for a sick person?

Answer me.

I don't remember.

When did you last sleep six hours? Do I
need a lawyer for this interrogation,

President? Riley.

Her voice suddenly dropped.

You stopped breathing for two seconds
when you went down. Every joke died in

my throat. She lowered her eyes, thumb
rubbing my hand without seeming to

notice. I'd never seen Ava this skill.

The woman who could veto a room full of
people and smash a camera without

blinking. I was barely willing to
squeeze my hand now. It was just a fever

and dehydration.

The doctor also saw your old medical
records.

My whole body locked up.

After the disciplinary case two years
ago, I didn't get out of bed for three

days. Anonymous messages hit my phone
nonstop. People said every women's

bathroom needed locks.

Someone taped my photo to restroom
doors.

Someone mailed the accusations to mom. I
stopped eating.

Stopped sleeping.

Stopped trusting that any look I gave
another woman could be harmless.

The worst night ended when mom heard
something wrong in my voice.

and took a bus to campus.

She forced the door open and found me
sitting beside the bathtub with a full

bottle of sleeping pills in my hand. I
didn't take them, but I'd been closer

than I ever wanted to admit.

The doctor shouldn't have told you that.
I pulled my hand away.

She only asked whether you had someone
reliable with you when you woke up. You

listed me as your emergency contact in
the ER. Everything else I pieced

together from the public disciplinary
file and your mom.

You called my mother?

Someone had to notify her while you were
unconscious.

I only told her you had a fever.

Nothing else. Every explanation sounded
like she was carefully disarm alarms

around me. I also called Jordan Lee.

She's a friend, and she's good at
recovering deleted digital records.

But she won't touch your old case unless
you say yes.

The old Ava would have had Jordan finish
the search before telling me it existed.

What if I say no?

Then we stopped.

Even if that means I never clear my
name, it's still your case.

Your life. I can stand beside you.

I can't turn protecting you into
controlling you again.

My eyes suddenly burned.

That meant more than another apology.
She didn't just know what she'd done

wrong. She was actually changing.

Do it. I want to know how much of the
truth is still out there.

Ava called Jordan. Within half an hour,
she had the first lead.

Selena had used two phones back then,
and the school had only examined the one

that ended up in my hands.

The cloud timestamps on the old phone
didn't match the upload times.

Location data might still exist in a
provider backup.

Jordan didn't promise anything.

All I can tell you is the record you
have is incomplete.

If we keep digging, we might find the
truth.

We might also drag all the old posts and
photos back up. You can stop me anytime.

I looked at Ava. She didn't push me with
her eyes. She waited.

Keep going. This time, reopening the
wound wasn't someone forcing me to prove

I was innocent.

It was my choice to go get the truth
back.

The difference was small, but for the
first time, that old case didn't feel

like it owned all of me. This doesn't
prove everything yet, Ava said after

hanging up. But it's not a dead end.

I looked out at the gray morning.

Why are you even more stubborn about
this than I am?

Because nobody stood beside you two
years ago. You didn't even know me then.

Ava paused.

It doesn't matter. There it was again,
that dodge.

I was about to push when the nurse came
in and wished me happy birthday.

I'd forgotten.

I was 21.

Mom made me a cake every year. This
year, she was in treatment, and I was

busy surviving scandal after scandal, so
we'd both pretended to forget the date.

When I was discharged that evening, Ava
didn't take me to a restaurant.

She asked first, Do you want to go back
to the room?

Or see a few people?

What people? You can change your mind
anytime. I chose the people.

The sorority hall wasn't packed.

Just Helen, Jordan, and a few members
who had actually helped us. Warm string

lights hung on the wall. A hilariously
crooked chocolate cake sat on the table.

21 and still a pain. There was a tablet
beside it. Mom had recorded a birthday

video early.

She wore the red knit hat and looked too
weak to sit up straight. But she still

sang the whole song.

21 years ago, you screamed loud enough
for the whole floor to hear you. So

don't let anybody take your voice.

Not even you.

I covered my mouth and cried in front of
everyone anyway.

Ava didn't rush to hug me. She waited
until I reached first, then let me wipe

every tear on her expensive shirt.

How many months of rent is this shirt? I
asked between sobs.

It's yours now. Ruin it.

Did you write that?

Ava didn't blink.

The baker has opinions about clients.

Her gift was a new phone case.

No camera symbols, no expensive Sinclair
logo, just a hand-drawn silver iris.

This again.

I looked up at her. After the charity
final, I'll tell you everything about

three years ago.

Why not now?

Because I want to tell it right. When
the birthday song started, I didn't wish

to clear my old case.

I didn't wish for Mom to recover.

Those wishes were too big to put on one
tiny candle.

I only wish that after Ava told me her
secret, she'd still look at me the way

she did now.

Late that night, everyone left. We went
back to the room with the suitcase lines

still between our beds.

That night outside the bathroom, I heard
you. Ava sat on the edge of her bed.

Heard what?

You said you like me. Her shadow moved.

And? I'm not ready to answer yet.

Okay. She didn't push. She just wished
me goodnight. A nightmare dragged me

back into that guest room after
midnight.

Selena pinned my hand down. The camera
light kept blinking red. I tried to

scream. Nothing came out. My body looked
for safety before my mind caught up. I

crossed the suitcase line and climbed
into the other bed. I didn't wake until

my forehead hit the soft neckline of
Ava's pajamas.

Her whole body was rigid, arms hovering
behind my back. I was already wrapped

around her, and she still didn't dare
hug me back.

It's me.

You're in our room. You're safe.

I caught her suspended hand and guided
that warm palm down to my lower back.

Hold me. Ava finally lowered her hands.
She wrapped one arm lightly around my

waist, waited until I didn't pull away,
then slowly tightened the hug. My face

rested against her chest, her heartbeat
racing faster than mine through the thin

pajamas.

Is this okay?

Tighter. She did exactly that. There was
no kiss that night. Nothing more. She

just held me until I found one place in
the world that didn't feel like it might

suddenly collapse.

When I woke up, one leg was tangled
between hers and my hand was still on

her bare waist.

Ava lay on her side watching me. Her
pajama neck cane tugged loose enough to

show the soft line below her collarbone.

Morning. I should have jumped straight
back into my own bed, but her palm was

steady against my back.

Her thumb drawing slow little circles.
There was nothing aggressive about it,

which somehow made my body press closer
before my brain could stop it. Don't get

the wrong idea. It was just a nightmare.

Of course. I'm awake now.

I noticed.

You can let go. You haven't asked me to.

I looked up to glare at her and nearly
bumped my nose into her mouth. We both

went quiet.

Ava didn't kiss me. She just watched me
and waited for my choice.

I finally moved out of her arms, but I
didn't go back across the line. I sat on

the edge of her bed and finished the
coffee she handed me.

That was probably when our relationship
really changed.

Not during some out-of-control kiss.

On an ordinary morning when I stopped
running, we didn't put a label on us

right away.

Ava still slept in her bed, and I didn't
pretend one hun hug had magically erased

the trauma.

But at breakfast, she'd pick the
strawberries off her plate and give them

to me. Under the meeting table, I'd top
her shoe with mine one of Blair's old

supporters tried to undermine her. Tiny
choices.

Ours alone.

One night, the power went out across the
entire- The old me would have locked the

door and sat alone until morning. That
night, I called Ava's name from my side

of the line. I'm here.

Don't come over.

Okay. But keep talking.

So she lay in the dark and told me about
falling face first into a cake and

alumni dinner when she was 12.

By the time the lights came back, I
realized she hadn't crossed the line

once. I reached over the suitcase and
held her hand for three minutes.

The fundraising started recovering too.
Our message wall went from a few dozen

cards to hundreds.

Someone gave $10 for a mother with
cancer. Someone gave five for a

classmate whose private photos had
leaked.

Someone else only wrote, thank you for
not throwing the victim out.

We climbed from last place to third.

What really moved the numbers was a lawn
fundraiser that almost failed.

Ten minutes in, rain started pouring.

Expensive decorations got soaked and the
alumni ran under tents.

Everyone waited for Ava to cancel it.
Instead, she handed me the microphone.

Your event.

Your call. I had the members seal the
message cards in plastic and led

everyone into the rain. No stage. We
just made a circle and let anyone who

wanted to speak tell us the name behind
her card. The first student said her

roommate had left school after private
photos were leaked.

The second said she'd never had the
courage to tell her family she liked

women. One story became another.

Rain ruined everyone's makeup and washed
away all the polished distance with it.

Ava stood beside me holding the umbrella
over my head, soaking half of herself

instead. Online donations tripled in 20
minutes. Members who'd once voted me out

started coming over to apologize.

Not every apology was graceful. One girl
got so awkward she could only leave a

coffee on my desk, but at least they
were starting to admit silence and going

along with the crowd could hurt people
too. The girl who dumped a drink on me

came over too. She didn't ask me to
forgive her. She asked if she could

clean up the ruined decorations and make
up the work she owed.

You can.

That doesn't make what happened okay.

I know. For the first time, I understood
that not forgiving someone immediately

didn't mean I was refusing to move
forward. Ava never used to apologize.

One girl told me quietly.

She just fixed problems.

Sounds like her.

You're the only person who can make her
admit she might be the problem. I looked

toward the other end of the table.

Ava was checking names with Helen. She
caught me looking, raised an eyebrow and

mouth. Looking again, I dropped my eyes,
but couldn't hide the smile.

The day before the Winter Charity Ball,
we tried on our dresses again. My dark

green gown had been altered off the
shoulder, but one thin strap kept

slipping. Ava stood behind me and looked
at me through the mirror first.

Can I? I nodded.

She fixed the strap, fingertips sliding
slowly from my shoulder toward my

collarbone. It was only clothing, but my
skin broke into tiny shivers under her

touch. Do you always have to move this
slowly?

I'm appreciating hard-earned permission.

She pinned a silver iris boat to the
strap. When she lowered her head, her

mouth was close to my chest, and warm
breath slipped through the thin fabric.

I grabbed the edge of the vanity to stop
myself from turning around and kissing

her. Riley Bennett.

Ava met my eyes in the mirror, suddenly
too serious to be teasing.

Will you be my first dance tomorrow
night? Not a president's order, not a

project assignment.

I can't dance.

I can.

I might break your foot.

Worth it. I made her wait a few seconds
on purpose.

Okay.

That night... Ava taught me to dance in
our room. We pushed the beds apart and

played soft music from her phone.

She held my right hand and rested the
other at my lower back, telling me each

direction before we moved. Stop looking
at your feet.

I'll step on you.

Look at me.

I looked up.

She wore soft lounge pants and a tank,
blonde hair brushing her shoulders as we

moved. Without the gown or cameras, her
body was somehow even harder to ignore.

Every turn brought my chest against hers
and messed up both our breathing.

Are you teaching this close on purpose?

We'll be closer at the ball.

Then I might not survive the first
dance.

Ava turned me back so I rested against
her chest, her lips stopping behind my

ear. I'll catch you. I turned to kiss
her. She smiled and stepped away.

Tomorrow night.

She'd learned how to torture me by
waiting. She laughed and bent down to

leave one soft kiss on my bare shoulder.

The night of the ball, backstage was
chaos.

I went to the control room with the
final playlist.

The door was cracked open.

Selena was inside.

She'd plugged a black hard drive into
the control computer.

On screen were my disciplinary photos
from two years ago and secret footage

from our bedroom.

You came.

She stared at the screen, not even
pretending to panic that I'd caught her.

I knew all I had to do was leak
something about Ava and you'd come

running. Unplug the drive.

She can save you once, twice.

She can't save you forever.

Selina finally turned.

Tonight they're going to see she lied.

abused her power, and slept with a woman
who'd already been disciplined.

When she loses everything, who do you
think she'll blame first?

Probably the woman who drugged people
and planted cameras?

Selina smiled.

No. People blame the person who made
them pay the price.

You know that better than anyone. Her
words slowed me for half a second.

That half second was enough for her hand
to drop toward play.

My blood frozen.

Selena's finger hovered over the button.

I lunged for the cable, just as she
pressed down.

I grabbed the cable.

Selena hit play. A message flashed in
the corner.

Content synced to main stage.

Scheduled for playbash.

I ripped the hard drive free.

Selena slammed into me, snatched the
drive, and ran out the side door.

Stop! I chased her into the hall.

All I saw was a crowd of staff carrying
trays.

She disappeared into them in seconds.

The tech came back, checked the system,
and told me the program had been

overwritten. The only guaranteed fix was
shutting the entire ball system down.

That meant killing the lights,
donations, and livestream too. And Zeta

Delta would lose the last alumni still
willing to support us.

How long to find the file?

Five minutes.

Maybe 30.

Music started from the ballroom. The
first dance had begun.

Through a gap in the curtain, I saw
Gavin already standing in the center of

the floor.

Ava's father motioned her over, while
someone from Nationals reminded her they

needed one controversy-free photo of the
president tonight.

Gavin held out his hand.

Photographers rushed in. Ava didn't take
it. She removed the family pin her

father had put on her dress and placed
it back on the tray.

I already promised my first aunt to
someone else.

This is not the time to be difficult.

I'm not being difficult.

Ava looked toward backstage.

I'm done hiding a real person just to
make a fake picture look prettier. She

walked right past Gavin and every camera
straight toward me. I stood backstage

with cold hands and teeth. Two years
ago, I'd spent six months avoiding any

room with a projection screen.

Now hundreds of people stood one curtain
away, waiting to see Ava take my hand.

I could leave. I could hide in the
restroom or slip out the back.

At least I wouldn't have to watch my
past fill another giant screen.

Then the curtain lifted.

Ava stood in the light. She wore a
silver-white gown, shoulders straight,

one hand extended toward me without a
trace of hesitation.

Gavin and several alumni stood in the
middle of the floor.

He'd obviously just asked her to dance.

I'm waiting for my date. I stared at her
hand.

Ava, there's a problem with the playbath
system.

Can they fix it?

I don't know.

Do you want to leave?

She was asking me.

Not the ball.

Not the charter.

Not the sponsors.

I took a deep breath and put my hand in
hers.

No.

She led me out from backstage.

Hundreds of heads turned at once.

Gavin stood at the edge of the floor
looking furious.

Blair sat with the alumni in an
expensive gown despite losing her pin.

The Nationals reps watched us with hard
expressions.

Ava ignored all of them.

One hand held mine. The other stopped
beside my waist first.

Here? I nodded.

Her palms settled against the open back
of my dress.

Heat climbed my waist.

In that moment, I could feel exactly
what it meant to be chosen by her in

public. She didn't treat me like a
scandal to hide. She didn't use the hold

to mark me as hers. She only kept her
hand where I'd allowed it and stood with

me in the brightest part of the room.

That restraint made me want to move
closer more than possession ever could.

The music moved slowly around us.

She led the first step. I immediately
stepped on her foot.

Sorry. Lighter than I expected.

I can try harder.

You won't. She pulled me a little
closer. Our dresses brushed.

I could feel her body heat and see the
tiny pale beauty mark near her

collarbone. Everything else slowly
disappeared.

There were only her eyes. You look
beautiful tonight.

Only tonight?

Ava smiled.

Look at you, accepting compliments now.
I'm checking that you mean it.

I can be more specific.

She lowered her head, lips near my ear.
Since you came downstairs in that green

dress.

I've thought about taking you back to
our room three times. I stepped on her

again.

Her laugh hadn't even faded when the
music cut out.

The ballroom went dark.

The main screen lit up.

First, footage from the president's
suite.

The hidden camera angle showed me waking
in Ava's shirt.

on her bed while she leaned down to
touch the corner of my mouth. The room

erupted. Then my disciplinary photo from
two years ago.

Then Selena sitting on the bed with her
dress pulled loose while my hand was

pinned to her shoulder.

Camera flashes exploded from every
direction.

Phones went up.

People started closing the donation
page. Blair stood and loudly demanded to

know why the sobriety kept protecting a
repeat offender. Whispers in the alumni

section turned into open accusations.

I heard my name repeated by different
voices.

Some disgusted. Some excited. Like a
public execution had finally found a

star worth sharing.

My dress suddenly felt too tight. Even
the iris brooch on my chest felt like a

needle dill digging into my skin.

I tried to rip it off, but my hands
shook too badly to grip it. Ava caught

my hand first.

Not to stop me, just to guide my fingers
away from the pin.

It's yours. Don't let them take it from
you again.

On screen, the fake clip looped my hand
reaching, cutting, reaching again. I

knew it was fake. My body didn't. My
breathing went shallow. My fingers

numbed. The ballroom shrank into that
interview room from two years ago. Every

face became Selena.

Every phone became that camera blinking
red.

Riley, look at me.

Ava cupped my face.

I can't breathe.

With me.

Inhale. She didn't cover my eyes. She
didn't drag me out. She just stood in

front of me and let me choose to look at
her. I thought in one breath, then

another. When my vision widened again,
several sorority members had moved

behind me at the edge of the floor. They
didn't say anything.

They just stood there. Women who had
once treated me like a threat were now

choosing to let the cameras see them on
my side. I was still terrified, but I

didn't leave the floor.

Ava spun and ran toward the control
booth.

Selena was there, still holding the hard
drive.

Ava ripped the cable out. The screen
went black.

Selena tried to run.

Security Helen had called blocked her
path.

A representative from Nationals stepped
into the center of the floor.

President Sinclair, did you abuse your
authority to hide your romantic

partner's disciplinary record?

The pulse in Ava's neck was racing. She
was scared.

She just didn't let fear answer for her.
I instinctively started to release her

hand, giving her one last chance to step
back into safety. She must have known.

She tightened her grip first.

Every camera turned towards Ava. There
was one easy answer. If she said we

weren't together, She could still frame
everything as a president protecting a

member. Ava walked back to me. In front
of everyone, she took my hand and laced

our fingers together.

Then she raised the microphone to her
mouth while the entire room waited for

the answer that could destroy her.

Yes.

One word, and the whole room went
silent.

She tightened her grip on my hand and
faced every camera.

Riley Bennett is the woman I love.

Our relationship began when we were both
sober, willing, and gave clear consent.

I publicly denied it once to protect the
integrity of her investigation.

That was my mistake.

Protecting someone who was drugged and
framed is not abuse of power.

Blair laughed coldly. You love her.

Of course you believe her.

I believe evidence.

Ava looked toward the control booth.

Jordan Lee stepped out of the cloud. She
carried another laptop with two school

investigators behind her.

The big screen came back on.

This time there was no technical
language nobody could follow. Just one

clean timeline.

When the secret video was filmed two
years ago.

My account was logged in on a library
computer while I was miles away at the

hospital with mom. The device that
actually uploaded the video was located

in Selena's dorm.

An unedited cloud backup still existed.

Before the recording started, Selena's
face appeared on camera.

Afterwards, she laughed and said that
once the phone was planted in my bag,

nobody would ever trust me again.

The other girl from the video was there
too.

The real victim.

from two years ago.

She told the investigators Selena had
threatened her.

Blame me, or more private footage would
be sent to her family.

She'd stayed silent for two years
because she was afraid.

I'm sorry.

She looked at me across the crowd.

I know my silence made you carry all of
it for me.

I couldn't comfort her in that moment.

We'd both been used by the same person.

But this time...

Selina couldn't force two victims to
compete over who deserved to be

believed. I stared at the screen without
moving.

That was the truth I'd waited two years
for.

No one had to believe the tone of my
voice anymore.

No one had to decide whether I looked
like a good person. The facts finally

stood in the light by themselves.

Selina lunged toward the computer.

Fake! They paid someone to make fake
videos!

Jordan played one final audio file.

It was Selina's voice pressuring a
witness to change her story.

She offered to pay the woman's rent if
she swore the phone had always been in

my hands.

Then Madison walked onto the stage.

She was pale and shaking, but she didn't
look down.

Blair told me to drug Riley the second
time.

Selina set up the camera.

They wanted everyone to believe Riley
had hurt another woman.

Shut up!

Blair screamed.

I almost got her killed.

I'm not staying quiet for you anymore.

Campus police cuffed Selina.

Blair's father tried to take her out.

The investigators stopped him, too. On
screen, my disciplinary status changed

from red to revoked. The room went quiet
first.

Then someone started clapping.

The applause grew.

People who'd accused me moments ago
started crowding around.

I'm sorry, Riley.

We didn't know the truth.

I hope you can forgive us.

I looked at all those faces and didn't
say it was okay, because it wasn't.

A late apology couldn't give me back two
years of sleep. It couldn't erase that

bottle of sleeping pills beside the
bathtub, or make Mom forget the

accusations mailed to her while she was
sick.

I hear you, but I can't forgive you yet.

Then I moved past them, toward Ava.

who'd stayed exactly where she was,
waiting for me.

She didn't open her arms.

She didn't even ask if I was okay.

She left the choice with me.

I threw myself into her.

Her arms locked tight around me, like
she could finally let every bit of

restraint go.

I buried my face in her neck, breathed
in cedar, and finally started crying for

real. She didn't say she'd known all
along.

She didn't turn my innocence into her
victory.

She only kept whispering in my ear.

It's over.

We don't have to prove it anymore.

That was when I realized I'd been
waiting for more than the records we

cleared. I'd been waiting for someone to
know the whole truth and still see my

pain before congratulating herself for
being right.

You said you loved me. I choked out.

I did.

In front of nationals?

And the livestream.

You're insane.

Probably since the night I gave you that
key.

Back at the house, our room was finally
quiet.

Ava asked first if I wanted to move
rooms.

After the hidden footage, any wall could
feel unsafe.

She was willing to move that night and
have professionals sweep the whole

suite.

I looked at the two beds, the suitcase
line, and the mirror we'd fought in

front of a hundred times.

Sweep it, sure.

But I'm staying.

It was her room.

It was also where I'd started learning
to trust myself again. I wasn't giving

any more space to people with cameras.

Ava stood by the window, suddenly the
one afraid to come near me.

I still owe you something.

For denying us the first time.

For every time after that when I used
being president to force you to stay.

I thought if the result protected you,
the way I got there didn't matter.

And now?

Now I know love isn't choosing the
safest road for you.

It's standing beside you after you
choose your own.

What if I choose you?

Ava stopped breathing.

No drug.

No gratitude.

No cameras this time.

I grabbed her collar.

Clear enough?

Crystal. I kissed her.

She froze for a beat.

Then one hand locked around my waist,
and the other cradled the back of my

neck. She didn't push me anywhere.

She followed the direction I moved,
until the backs of my legs hit the bed.

Okay. She asked against my lips.

I pulled her down onto the bed with me.

That was answer enough.

Her hair fell across my face while her
kisses moved from my mouth to my

collarbone. My hand slid down the back
of her dress.

When I found the zipper, she laughed
softly.

Are you always this impatient?

Only with presidents who won't shut up.

I pulled the zipper down.

Her laugh broke into a sharp breath.

That night, neither of us had anything
to prove.

We were just two women who finally
didn't have to let a camera define us,

choosing each other with every phone
turned off.

In the morning, Ava hugged me from
behind.

Her leg was tangled with mine, lips
against my shoulder, clearly with no

planned lands to let me out of bed.

Project meeting.

I reminded her.

Canceled.

Abuse of presidential power.

Already been accused of it. One more
won't hurt.

She pulled me closer and started to kiss
me when a long car horn sounded

downstairs.

I pushed myself up in her arms.

caught the edge of the curtain and
started pulling it open.

Helen's car was outside the window.

She rolled it down and reminded us,
stone-faced, that finals were five days

away and just cleared your name did not
mean celebrate in bed until noon.

Ava pulled the curtain shut again.

Didn't hear a thing. I laughed and
shoved her away.

For the first time, getting interrupted
while I was happy felt like something

worth being happy about.

We had one free day before finals.

Ava didn't schedule it like a president.

At breakfast, she handed me a
handwritten card.

Tonight, 6 o'clock.

Winter Carnival.

Real date.

Underneath, in smaller letters.

You may say no. I will be devastated,
but there will be no retaliation.

You made consent sound like a legal
disclaimer.

Jordan reviewed it. When did I say yes?

Ava slid over a second card. It already
read, Riley Bennett gladly accepts.

That's you making my choice for me.

She immediately reached to take it back.

I pinned the card under my hand. But
this time, you chose well.

The carnival ran along the river, string
lights stretching from the Ferris wheel

to the outdoor rink.

Nobody cared about sorority charters.

Nobody shoved a microphone at us about
our relationship.

We were just two women waiting in line
for hot chocolate.

Ava took a sip from my cup.

You have your own.

Yours is sweeter.

They're identical.

Must be because it touched your mouth.

I nearly choked. A hideous blue bear
hung above a shooting booth.

Ava said it looked like Blair when Helen
took her vice president pin.

So I burned through all found my game
tickets trying to win it.

I missed the first four shots.

Need presidential assistance?

Shut up.

The fifth shot finally dropped the
target.

The vendor handed me the bear. I
immediately shoved it into Ava's arms.

She stared for a few seconds.

For me?

Who else? I don't have room for
something that ugly.

Ava looked down and rubbed one crooked
ear, her face suddenly soft.

No one's ever won me a prize before.

No way.

People usually just buy me the most
expensive thing there.

She hugged the bear closer.

This is different.

That was when I realized.

Being rich didn't mean she'd been given
everything.

People bought jewelry for the Sinclair
Ayersers.

Almost nobody missed four shots in
freezing wind just for Ava. She wore a

cropped puffer and skinny jeans that
day.

No president pin, no heels, but when she
bent down to tie my skates, blonde hair

falling over her shoulder and fingers
circling my ankle, every light around us

still seemed to dim.

You're staring again.

She didn't even look up.

Checking whether you're tying a knot
I'll never get out of?

Obviously. We fell three times on the
ice.

More exactly, I fell twice. The third
time, I deliberately dragged a smug Ava

down with me.

She landed over me with one palm behind
my head, the tip of her nose pink from

the cold.

Attempted murder of the president?

Self-defense.

She bet down and kissed me.

People skated past.

Kids laughed.

The speakers played some ancient love
song.

No cameras. No statement needed.

And somehow that kiss hit me harder than
the one at the ball, because it was

ordinary enough to feel like we might
actually have a future.

We stayed lying on the ice for a while.

Where do you want to go after
graduation?

I'd never really thought that far.

Mom's next bill, the next review of my
disciplinary case, next semester's

scholarship. Those things had always
filled my whole horizon.

Maybe non-profit work?

Some city where nobody knows the Bennett
case.

Everyone knows it was false now.

A correction doesn't erase people's
memory overnight.

Ava took my hand. Then go to any city
you want.

Not to run.

To choose.

What about you?

I'm still learning how to answer a
question that doesn't come with a family

plan attached.

She turned her head toward me. But if my
answer happens to put me in the same

city as you, I'd be pretty happy about
it.

She didn't say forever.

She didn't use the future to pressure me
into promising anything.

That was exactly why, for the first
time, I could picture some random Sunday

morning with her still...

beside me.

At the top of the Ferris wheel, Ava
pulled a Polaroid camera from her

pocket.

In the first photo, I was laughing with
my guard completely down.

Ava wasn't even looking at the camera.

She was looking at me.

We took another.

This time I kissed her cheek right as
the flash went off. Ava actually looked

shocked. She insisted on buying both.

One for me, one tucked into the clearest
slot in her wallet.

President Sinclair isn't worried about
her image?

This is my favorite image so far.

It's our first official photo together.

What about the basketball one? You were
sweaty, doesn't count.

So were you.

I sweat beautifully.

I snatched the photo and put it in my
wallet.

Ava suddenly went quiet.

After finals, I'll tell you the secret
from three years ago.

You keep saying that.

I'm afraid you don't believe me.

I'm starting to.

Her eyes deepened.

That scares me more than any trophy.

Before the date ended, She said she
needed to pick up foundation paperwork

from the Sinclair family's off-campus
house.

It was an old gray and white mansion
with several expensive cars out front.

We'd barely gotten out when a cab pulled
up at the curb.

A woman stepped out with a suitcase.

Late 20s, long dark brown hair, camel
coat open over a perfectly cut black

dress. She was gorgeous in a grown-up
way, with the same force in her eyes

that Ava had.

I recognized the coat.

She was the woman who'd thrown Blair out
of the house the morning after the

party. The second Ava saw her, she lit
up.

Olivia! She dropped my hand and
practically ran over to hug her. Olivia

laughed, wrapped an arm around Ava's
waist, and kissed her cheek.

Miss me?

You said next week.

I wanted to surprise you.

They fit together with zero space
between them, like a world I'd never be

invited into.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A campus news alert popped up.

Sinclair family confirms Ava will appear
with Gavin at finals dinner.

The photo showed Ava's father standing
between them, like he'd already mapped

out her whole future.

Suddenly I felt stupid.

I'd thought her public confession meant
she'd chosen me.

Maybe I was just one dangerous, exciting
way to rebel against her family.

And when she went back to the life she
really belonged in, Gavin would be

beside her. Or maybe a polished woman
like the one in front of me.

Ava turned and held out her hand.

Riley, come here.

I was about to walk over when Olivia
affectionately pinched preached Ava's

cheek and laughed.

Let me see.

Has our perfect little princess finally
learned how to date?

The hand Ava had been holding moments
ago hung uselessly at my side. I stared

at them, slowly curled my fingers and
started backing away from the hand she

was still holding out to me.

I didn't wait for an introduction.

I'm going back to the house.

We're going together.

Ava came toward me immediately.

Olivia's phone rang at exactly that
moment.

She checked the screen, went serious,
and turned away to answer.

Ava tried to stop me.

Hayne was respond, but I was already
getting into a cab.

She sent more than a dozen texts on the
way back.

What's wrong? At least tell me what I
did.

The last one said, don't decide for me
who I'm going to choose. I muted my

phone. Back at the house, The TV in the
hall was showing a Sinclair charity

dinner. Ava's father announced that the
family would make a major donation on

finals night.

Gavin stood beside him and said he and
Ava would represent both foundations

together. The positions in the shot were
already decided.

Nobody needed to ask whether Ava wanted
any of it.

Her life had belonged to last names,
checks.

and cameras since the day she was born.

I had one half-empty suitcase, a
scholarship I could lose at any time,

and a mother in a hospital waiting on
bills.

I pulled the carnival Polaroid from my
wallet.

Ava wasn't looking at the camera in the
photo.

She was looking at me.

A few hours ago, I believed that look
could fight every arrangement made for

her.

Now it looked more like a souvenir from
a brief escape from real life.

I heard two members talking in the
hallway.

They said the Sinclairs would never let
Ava really be with me, that Gavin was

the choice that protected donations.

They even wondered if the elegant woman
who'd just come back was some more

suitable match the family had picked.

I knew gossip wasn't fact.

But when gossip said exactly what I was
most afraid of, reason got very quiet.

I shoved the photo into the deepest slot
in my wallet, like hiding it first would

keep me from watching it get torn up.

How had I ever believed I could stand
beside her?

She'd clearly spent the whole ride
holding herself together.

Even so... The first thing she asked
was, Can I come closer?

No point.

Then at least tell me why we were fine
at the end of our date, and ten minutes

later you wouldn't look at me.

I'm tired.

That's not true.

What about Olivia?

I almost said it.

Her name got all the way to my tongue
before pride forced it back down.

If I asked, I'd be admitting I was
jealous.

I'd also be giving her the power to
decide how much the answer could hurt

me.

Ava watched me like she was waiting for
the real question.

What did you see?

Or what did you hear?

Doesn't matter. If it matters to you, it
matters to me.

She set her phone on the table.

Our photo was still on the screen. You
could ask about Gavin.

My father.

Anyone outs that house. Instead, you ask
nothing and decide I'm going to leave

you like everyone else did.

She was right.

So I chose the cruelest way to hit back.

Aren't you the one who's so good at
accepting when people don't want to

answer? That shut her up for one second.

Respecting your boundaries doesn't mean
watching you punish both of us with a

lie.

Both of us? I laughed once. You really
think there's an us?

The anger left Ava's face.

I knew if I stopped talking right then,
I could still come back from it.

But fear knew my mouth better than love
did.

I got close to you because I needed the
scholarship and the project.

I forced myself to look at her.

My case is cleared. The project is
almost over.

We don't need to keep pretending.

The kiss at the basketball game was
pretending?

Impulse.

And pulling me into bed after the ball?

That was for the project, too?

It felt like cutting my own chest open.

I nodded anyway.

What did you think it meant?

Ava's eyes slowly turned red.

She walked up to me, hands at her sides,
not touching.

I thought you finally believed I love
you. Then you misunderstood.

The silence was brutal.

Ava looked at the ugly blue bear by the
window, then at the edge of the Polaroid

sticking out of my wallet.

Things that had belonged to us hours ago
had turned into witnesses against my

lie.

At least don't insult yourself.

You would never trade your body for a
scholarship.

Don't make your own choices sound cheap
just because you're scared.

She saw the part of me I was trying
hardest to hide, so I pushed the knife

deeper.

Maybe you don't know me at all.

Ava stepped back like she was finally
letting the words land.

You can be scared.

You can doubt me.

You can ask anything.

Her voice was quiet.

But you can't hand me the knife every
time you think I'll leave, then pretend

I'm the one who stabbed you.

She turned toward the door.

I finally panicked.

Ava!

My phone rang.

The hospital.

I answered. Two sentences in, the phone
slipped out of my hand.

Mom had collapsed after treatment.

An ambulance had just brought her into
the ER. The doctor told me to come

immediately.

Mom. My legs nearly gave out.

Ava stopped at the door. Every trace of
hurt and anger disappeared from her

face. Which hospital?

St. Joseph's.

Get your coat. I didn't even realize I
only had one shoe on.

Ava grabbed my coat and boots and half
carried me downstairs.

Snow was coming down hard.

She drove fast, one hand on the wheel,
the other resting between us, palm up.

I called Mom over and over.

No answer. The hospital would only say
she was being treated, and they couldn't

tell me more.

Every time a call ended, I heard what
I'd just said to Ava. I'd denied every

bit of tenderness she'd given me.

The second mom was in danger.

Ava still found my shoes, grabbed my
coat, and remembered the hospital

address. She didn't trade her help for
an explanation. She never said, now you

need me, which made one thing pain
painfully clear.

I was the one turning love into a
weapon.

She didn't ask me to take her hand.

At the third red light, I put mine in
it.

Ava closed her fingers around mine
immediately.

She's going to be okay.

You don't know that?

I don't.

But whatever happens, you're not walking
in there alone.

By the time we parked, she'd squeezed
deep red marks into my hand.

Ava saw them and apologized instantly.

I tightened my grip instead.

Don't let go.

It was the first true thing I'd said
since our fight.

Outside the ER, I wore one heel and one
snow boot Ava had thrown on me in the

car. I looked as wrecked as I had in
that alley three years ago.

Ava crouched and put the other boot on
for me. Her hand was still at my ankle

when the ER doors opened.

The doctor pulled off his mask and
walked toward me with a grave

expression.

He stopped in front of me and slowly
opened his mouth.

Mrs. Bennett's tests show stage 3
antedonial cancer.

The world went silent after that
sentence.

The doctor kept talking.

I only caught broken words.

Spread, surgery, risk as soon as
possible.

Mom's collapse wasn't just a bad
treatment reaction.

The tumor had invaded nearby tissue.

Her previous treatment hadn't stopped
it.

She needed a more experienced team for a
complex surgery, then long-term

treatment afterward.

What are her odds?

The number the doctor gave was low
enough that I stopped wanting to hear

numbers.

What if we get the best specialist?

I grabbed his coat sleeve.

Anywhere. Any price.

Dr. Smith's team is the best fit, but
they're currently working on a research

project out of state.

Even if we can can coordinate it, the
follow-up costs will be very high.

That word finally cut through the fear.

I had only a few thousand dollars saved
from part-time work.

Insurance would cover some of it, but
not bringing a top surgical team in from

another state.

For two years, I'd calculated every
medical bill down to the cent, and still

couldn't keep up with how fast Mom was
getting sicker.

Use the standard option, I heard myself
say.

I'll sign.

No. She's my mother.

Which means the decision is still yours.

Give me ten minutes to make sure you
actually have another option first.

She didn't ask me to accept her money.

She first asked the doctor whether she
could make an unrestricted donation to

the hospital's cancer center, allowing
the hospital to bring in Dr. Smith's

team while also subsidizing treatment
for other low-income patients.

Then she walked to the end of the hall
and started making calls. Through the

glass, I watched her make six in a row.
Her father seemed to refuse.

I could hear the argument even from
where I stood.

Eva hung up and called Olivia.

Use my personal trust as collateral.

Five million dollars.

Tonight. Send me the papers.

By the time she came back, A donation
confirmation was already on her phone.

Your father agreed?

No.

Her father hadn't just refused.

He'd threatened to freeze every family
account she could access.

Olivia approved the emergency medical
grant as head of the foundation.

And Ava backed it with her own portion
of the personal trust.

You could lose your inheritance over
this.

An inheritance can't save anyone in an
operating room.

Ava, this isn't a dinner bill.

Which is why I didn't sign your mother's
consent form behind your back.

She placed the document where I could
read it without having to take it.

I created an option.

Whether you and Margaret use it is still
your choice.

She didn't say... I'd give up anything
for you.

That sounded romantic, but it would have
put the weight of her sacrifice on my

shoulders.

Instead, she did what she could and
stepped back beside me. Five million

dollars.

I stared at all those zeros and could
barely breathe.

I can't take this.

It's not yours.

Don't play word games.

Then hear the whole thing.

Ava lowered the papers.

The money goes to the cancer center.

It brings in Dr. Smith's team and pays
for treatment for other low-income

patients, too.

Your mother decides with you whether she
wants the surgery.

Whether you love me, forgive me, or ever
want to see me again.

is not part of the deal.

Then why are you... Because I can help
people today, and your mom needs help.

Her eyes were red, but her voice stayed
steady.

And because I love you.

But love is the reason, it's not the
bill.

Every wall I had left came down. I threw
myself into her arms and cried like a

kid.

Ava held me.

She didn't say everything would be fine.

Every time I shook, she just pressed her
palm more firmly to my back.

Dr. Smith arrived that night.

The surgery lasted seven hours.

Ava and I sat in the hall without
letting go of each other's hands.

Before dawn, the operating light finally
went off.

Dr. Smith told me they'd successfully
removed the tumor.

Mom still had treatment ahead, but she'd
made it through the most dangerous part.

Around hour three of waiting, I finally
apologized for what I'd said in the

suite.

When Olivia showed up, I thought she was
the woman you really wanted.

Ava stared at me for a long time.

You didn't notice we look alike?

It was dark the first time. I only saw a
coat.

And you wouldn't explain.

So you ask.

I know.

I look down at our linked hands.

But if I ask, I might get the answer.

i'm most afraid of not asking doesn't
change the answer ava rubbed her thumb

over my knuckles next time you're scared
hurt the lie first not us that sounds

annoyingly like you jordan taught me i
finally laughed once during the endless

wait at hour five olivia brought coffee
and sandwiches ava made sure i ate

all of mine she only took two sips of
her own drink

By the middle of the night, she finally
gave out and rested her head on my

shoulder.

I'd never seen her exhausted this close
before.

There were shadows under her lashes.

Her lips were dry from not drinking
enough, and she still hadn't let go of

my hand.

She wasn't some unstoppable rescuer or
billionaire airmare who could fix

anything with one phone call.

She was just someone as scared of losing
people as I was, who still chose to stay

when she was scared.

I laid my coat over her and gently
brushed the blonde hair off her

forehead.

My turn to catch you.

Ava didn't wake.

She only tucked her face deeper against
my neck.

My knees gave out and I almost dropped.

Ava caught me from behind.

She made it.

Yes.

She really made it.

Yes, Riley.

Once Mom was moved to observation,
Olivia arrived at the hospital too.

She took off her camel coat, hugged Ava
like it was second nature, then turned

to me.

So we finally meet properly.

Olivia Sinclair.

Ava's older sister.

And I run the foundation.

Sister.

I looked at Ava.

She looked confused for a second.

Then understanding hit her all at once.

Wait. That day, did you think... I
thought nothing.

I cut in instantly.

Olivia's smile got wider.

She thought I was your girlfriend?

No.

That's why she ran off?

I said no!

Ava leaned against the wall and laughed
so hard she folded over.

I tried to kick her and forgot I was
sitting beside a folding visitor bed.

The frame made an ominous creak, then
collapsed in the middle.

Ava and I dropped into the dip together.

Olivia laughed so hard she nearly
dropped her phone.

I was not jealous.

I tried to climb out of the frame. Ava
braced herself over me.

one strand of blonde hair falling
against my mouth.

The narrow dip forced our bodies close,
her knee trapped between my legs, her

laughter slowly turning into a much more
dangerous focus.

You don't have to admit it.

She tipped up my chin.

Just stop lying to yourself.

I opened my mouth to argue.

She leaned down, lips moving slowly
towards mine.

No flirting in the hospital room.

Ava's lips stopped less than an inch
from mine.

I used the opening to climb out of the
collapsed bed frame, my face hot enough

for a nurse to think I had a fever too.

Mom woke the next afternoon.

She was weak, but her first question was
whether I'd eaten.

Her second was why my swollen eyes
looked so awful.

Only after making sure I wasn't falling
apart did she look at Ava by the door.

So you're the one who makes her pause on
the phone lately.

Mom.

I didn't say anything bad.

She smiled weakly.

Every time she mentions you, she
complains for two minutes, then suddenly

gets quiet.

Nobody used to make her quiet.

I knew she was sending me away on
purpose, so I walked very slowly.

When I came back, the room door wasn't
fully shut.

I don't care whether she likes men or
women.

Mom's voice came through the gap.

I care whether liking someone ever makes
her ashamed of herself again.

It won't.

Don't promise too fast.

You have money, a last name, and a habit
of stepping in front of everybody.

But Riley isn't something you protect by
hiding her.

The room went quiet for a moment.

I know.

If she chooses public, I hold her hand.

If she chooses private, I stay private
with her.

But if someone hurts her, I'm not
letting her carry it alone again.

That one works.

Mom said, remember it.

My nose stung outside the door.

Mom figured out I was listening almost
immediately.

After Ava left, She waved me over.

Come here.

Stop pretending you just swam back from
the apple juice machine.

I sat beside her.

She held my hand, barely strong enough
to squeeze.

The way she looks at you doesn't look
like charity.

She does a lot of charity.

Money fixes some things.

It doesn't tell you someone's heart.

Watch what she does when you say no.

Watch whether she opens the door when
you say you want to leave I thought

about the umbrella in the rain the last
inch beside the hospital bed and The

bathroom door she hadn't forced open Mom
had already seen my answer for me

Olivia

came down the hall caught me
eavesdropping and kindly said nothing

She only nodded toward the lounge.

There, she opened a file.

Inside were nearly three years of
foundation records.

The first program was a housing
scholarship for students facing online

harassment on campus.

The second was anonymous medication
support for low-income cancer patients.

Several anonymous grants Mom had
received over the last two years came

through that program.

The third was Westbridge's nonprofit
leadership program, the opportunity that

had brought me into Zeta Delta.

Ava's signature was on every original
proposal.

My first reaction wasn't gratitude.

It was panic.

So she's been planning my life this
whole time?

I snapped the file shut.

Housing, medical bills, the project, all
Ava?

No.

Olivia didn't get defensive.

She built a door.

She didn't push you through it.

She pulled up the selection records.

Every application had been anonymized
and scored by an independent committee.

My file had only been a number.

Ava had never seen it.

Mom's assistance had been recommended by
a hospital social worker, not handpicked

by Ava.

If you hadn't been selected, the
foundation would have helped someone

else who needed it.

Ava didn't even know where you ended up
going to school.

She just refused to let that rainy night
be the only thing she'd ever done.

That mattered.

I didn't want to be some secret a rich
heiress had carefully raised from a

distance.

I didn't want my own work reduced to Ava
loving me.

I'd written the proposal.

I'd done the interview.

I'd earned the scholarship.

Ava had only made sure there was one
more door in the world that wouldn't

slam shut because of a rumor.

She hadn't walked the road for me.

She'd only made sure the road existed.

When she came home three years ago, she
suddenly pushed the foundation to create

these programs.

She set the criteria.

An independent committee made every
selection.

She didn't know whether you'd ever be
picked, and she never asked anyone to

favor you.

I turned to the earliest page.

The reason for the proposal was one
line.

Some girls aren't lacking courage.

Nobody ever stood in front of their
first storm.

My fingers started shaking.

Olivia took out a small box.

Inside was a silver iris brooch, the old
Sinclair emblem engraved on the back.

Ava had a pair.

She lost one three years ago.

She kept the other.

The photo.

The brooch.

The girl whose face I couldn't see in
the rain.

Ava always finding me.

Everything locked together.

It was her.

Olivia only smiled and closed the file.

When Ava came out of Mom's room, I was
standing by the floor to clean window.

Winter sunlight caught her blonde hair
and turned her into the blurred

silhouette seen behind headlights three
years ago.

You know, she saw the brooch on my hand.

Why didn't you tell me sooner?

Because I didn't want you choosing me
out of gratitude.

So you preferred letting me think you
were investigating me?

That excuse sounds pretty stupid now.

And the foundation.

If Olivia hadn't shown me the records,
how long were you planning to hide that?

Ava didn't make excuses.

I don't know.

Every time I tried to tell you, I was
afraid.

It would sound like a bill, a bill
asking to be repaid.

I don't want someone paying for my life,
then calling it love.

I don't want to love you that way
either.

She stepped back, giving me room to
think.

Those programs don't end if we break up.

You owe the Sinclair family nothing.

You got the opportunity because you
qualified.

Your mom got help because she needed it.

My feelings don't change any of that.

Her voice still caught slightly on
breakup.

That tiny bit of pain she couldn't hide
was exactly why I believed she wasn't

pretending to be some selfless saint.

She was scared of losing me, too.

She still gave the choice back.

I walked up and pinned the brooch onto
her coat collar.

Three years ago, you told me not to give
away my right to choose who I like.

I did.

Then I'm taking it back now.

I kissed her first.

Ava froze.

then put both hands on my waist.

The kiss was so gentle it felt almost
like confirmation.

I was finally kissing the girl whose
face I couldn't see in the rain, and the

woman who kept stepping in front of me.

Until she learned how to stand beside me
instead.

A camera shotter clicked behind us.

We both turned.

Olivia stood there with her phone up,
completely unashamed.

On screen was the exact moment I rose
onto my toes to kiss Ava.

Olivia was already walking toward us
with her thumb hovering over send.

Post that and I'm cropping you out of
every family photo.

Olivia, stop.

I'm not even in that one. Then I'm
kicking you out of the family chat.

Turning on your own sister over one
kiss.

Heartbreaking.

She complained, but still handed me the
phone and let me decide whether to keep

it. In the photo, Ava's eyes were
closed, one hand resting gently at my

waist. I stared at it for a long time,
then hit save, not send.

I'll show mom after she gets out of the
hospital, I said.

This time, everyone respected my choice.

The night before finals, I went to the
parking garage for the plans I'd left in

the car.

Around the corner, I heard Ava and
Olivia talking.

When are you going to tell Riley?

After finals.

About the girl you fell for three years
ago?

I froze.

Ava answered quietly.

She still doesn't know everything.

After tomorrow night, I'll tell Riley.

An ambulance tore past the entrance, its
siren swallowing the rest.

You've been holding onto this for three
years.

She deserves to see it.

If Riley knew you'd had someone else in
your heart this whole time, their voices

faded with their footsteps.

I stood behind the wall as that brand
new sense of safety cracked open again.

Logic told me three years ago could mean
that night in the rain, but Ava had only

admitted she saved me that night.

She'd never said she loved me.

And the someone else Olivia mentioned
sounded like a secret I'd never met.

Trauma doesn't solve mysteries.

It hears half a sentence, picks the
worst ending, then tells you every good

thing is temporary.

Every time hope had fallen apart before,
I'd thought the signs were on my side

too. So I didn't believe the simplest
answer.

The one I wanted most.

Maybe saving me that night had only been
kindness.

Maybe Ava had actually fallen for
someone else.

She'd kept that girl's photo for three
years and planned to confess after

finals.

And maybe I was just what happened
before she found her way back to that

first love.

She could love me.

She could save my mother.

That still didn't mean I had all of her
heart.

I knew I should run after her and ask.

But tomorrow's final would decide
whether the sorority survived.

Mom was still recovering, and we were
still short on donations.

I couldn't tie everyone else's future to
my fear again.

Back at the house, Ava was waiting in
the fitting room.

She wore a deep blue gown for finals.

The zipper still opened down her back.

When she saw me, she turned.

Have you been crying?

It's windy.

There's no wind in an underground
garage.

I stepped behind her and zipped up the
dress.

The same motion that used to wreck my
heartbeat now felt like closing a door,

inch by inch.

Ava watched me in the mirror.

What happened?

After finals, are you going to tell me
all your secrets?

Yes.

Including the person you've loved for
three years?

Something shifted in her eyes.

Then, somehow, she smiled.

Including her.

That little smile only convinced me the
secret was precious to her.

Suddenly, I didn't want our last night
to be nothing but suspicion.

I took her shoulders, turned her around,
and kissed her first ava felt my urgency

right away she cupped my face and slowed
the kiss riley she murmured

against my lips you're kissing me like
goodbye i just want to kiss you

i'm right here i closed my eyes too
scared to

ask myself how much longer i'd get to
have her

An argument suddenly broke out in the
hall.

Ava's father walked in with Gavin and a
lawyer. He set the final donation pledge

on the table and demanded that Ava deny
our relationship on the live stream,

then appear beside Gavin as the Stinkler
heir.

Ten minutes. That's all.

After the ceremony, do whatever you want
in private, with whoever you want.

Ava's face went cold.

Riley is not whatever.

Then give up five million dollars in
donations for her.

And your position at the Family
Foundation.

Every member in the hall heard him.

I started to speak, but Ava looked at me
first.

What do you want me to choose?

She actually asked me.

And for once, I didn't sacrifice myself
for her.

Choose yourself.

Ava turned back.

I won't deny her, and I won't trade the
image of a perfect heir for resources

anymore.

Effective now, I resign from the
Sinclair Foundation.

Her father tore the pledge in half on
the spot.

Pieces of paper fluttered to the floor,
and the donation total dropped on the

screen. With the family money gone, we
were exactly $100,000 short of keeping

our national charter.

We had one night left to raise it.

After a few silent seconds, Helen bent
down first and picked up a torn piece of

the pledge.

We never should have bet our future on
one check anyway.

The members got to work.

Some called former scholarship
recipients.

Some recut the message wall video.

Some split up alumni lists page by page.

The girl who dumped a drink on me
volunteered to work the phones all

night.

Madison posted a public video owning
what she'd done and asked people to turn

their anger into help for victims.

No mansion gala, no complicated rules,
just a room full of people who'd messed

up before and were willing to make it
right together.

Ava watched them. For the first time,
her eyes filled in front of everyone.

She'd always thought a president had to
hold the whole house up alone.

Now she saw that letting go didn't make
everything collapse.

Some people cried.

Others started boxing up the house
memorabilia.

Ava stood in front of the nearly empty
donor wall, shoulders straight, hands

ice cold.

I took her hand.

Even if her heart still belonged partly
to someone else, even if we ended

tomorrow, I wouldn't let her carry
tonight alone.

Let's go to finals.

A hundred grand isn't the end of the
world.

With the time we have left, it's pretty
close.

Then let's get the whole campus to help
us drag the world back.

One by one, the members turned on their
phone lights and followed us out of the

house. Across the dark campus, hundreds
of lights became a path all the way to

the finals plaza.

The live stream countdown began.

On the screen, the final ten minutes
started ticking down.

The $100,000 gap still glowed red.

I didn't bring the speech the PR team
wrote for me.

It was too perfect.

Like the old Ava.

Like the old me, desperate to prove I
was harmless.

This time, I didn't want the audience to
like me.

I just wanted them to hear someone.

who'd been buried under a lie for two
years finally stopped being ashamed of

someone else's cruelty.

The host handed me the mic.

I looked at Ava in the crowd, put my
thumb on the switch, and slowly pressed

down.

The mic went live.

There were more than 10,000 people in
the plaza and even more watching online.

The giant screen showed the countdown on
one side and our $100,000 shortfall on

the other.

I'd prepared the perfect speech.

It listed how many people Zeta Delta had
helped, how many programs we'd run, and

why we deserved to keep our charter.

But once I stepped into the lights, I
put the speech down.

Two years ago, My whole school decided I
was the girl who secretly filmed women

and leaked private videos.

The crowd went quiet.

I lost my school, my friends, and almost
the will to keep going.

Then I came to Westbrook, and the same
lie followed me here.

People asked why I stayed, why I didn't
just start over somewhere else.

I looked toward the message wall.

Members held up cards covered with the
names of mothers, daughters.

friends, and strangers.

Because the person who was smeed
shouldn't have to keep running.

The people who hurt others should be the
ones who leave.

I'm not asking you to pity me tonight.

I'm speaking to anyone who's been
secretly filmed, defined by a lie, or

forced to expose something private.

You do not have to be a perfect victim
to deserve help.

The first $10 donation hit the screen.

Then $5, 20, 1. The total started
climbing.

Olivia held up her phone from the side
of the stage.

Mom was watching from her hospital bed.

She donated $5 with one message.

For every daughter who never should have
had to run.

Then families who'd once received
anonymous medical aid started donating

too.

Some sent a dollar. Some left long thank
you messages.

All those tiny doors Ava had opened
years ago became a road built by

ordinary people.

On the very night she lost her family's
check, Ava walked onto the stage.

She wasn't wearing the Sinclair crest,
just her Zeta Delta President pin and

the silver iris I'd pinned back on her.

I used to think loving someone meant
standing in front of every

problem for them.

So I made choices for her.

I denied us for her.

I even used my power to force her to
stay close to me.

She turned to me.

Then I learned love isn't hiding her
behind you.

It's asking where she wants to stand.

Ava announced to the entire crowd that
she had resigned from the family

foundation. She would no longer trade a
polished public image for donations.

and she would never deny the person she
loved for money.

If Zeta Delta can only survive because
of one rich family name, then it doesn't

deserve to survive.

But if it survives because people are
willing to give one dollar or tell a

victim, I believe you, then that's the
sisterhood worth saving.

The numbers suddenly started flying.

Students raised their phones.

Alumni logged back into the live stream.

People whose names were on the message
wall started sharing it.

90,000. 95.

98. With 10 seconds left, the whole
plaza counted down together.

10. 9.

Ava took my hand.

3. 2.

1. The total crossed the goal.

Confetti cannons exploded as the
donations kept climbing.

Zeta Delta won the charity competition
and kept its national charter.

Everyone around me screamed and hugged.

Then I realized Ava was gone.

A moment later, she came back from the
other side of the stage carrying a huge

bouquet of silver irises.

Olivia wheeled out a screen.

It showed the full video from that rainy
night three years ago.

The footage came from the Sinclair
family's dash cam. On screen, 18-year

-old me was pinned against the wall.

The girl getting out of the car was Ava.

She chased them off and gave me the pin.

After she got back in the car, she kept
watching me through the rear window

until I disappeared into the rain.

Then the screen showed the full version
of that old photo.

It hadn't been taken in secret.

The driver was photographing the
bullies' license plate.

I just happened to be standing in the
middle of the frame.

Ava had cropped me out of it later and
kept that piece for three years.

When I got home that night, I found out
you'd applied for a community service

scholarship. I created the fund so
people like you wouldn't lose housing or

medical care because of a rumor.

I never touched the selection process.

I had no idea that three years later,
you'd walk into Zeta Delta.

By then, I was crying.

In the garage, you said you fell for a
girl three years ago.

Ava smiled.

I did.

It wasn't someone else? There was never
anyone else.

In front of thousands of people.

she dropped to one knee but there was no
ring she only held out irises giving

me a confession that asked for no
promise of forever riley bennett i

didn't fall for the version of you who
cleared her name stood on this stage or

finally learned to trust herself she
looked at me her voice carrying across

the whole plaza three years ago i fell
for the girl everyone mocked

who still dove into a puddle to save her
love letter.

Every time I've fallen for you since has
only proven I saw you right that night.

I had never been anyone's replacement,
and I never had to become prettier,

braver, or more innocent to deserve her
love.

I took the flowers and pulled her back
to her feet.

You still owe me one question. What
question?

Can I kiss you?

She kissed me under a storm of confetti
while thousands of people cheered.

Three months later, Mom finished her
first round of treatment.

Zeta Delta's charity program expanded to
other schools.

helping students targeted by secret
recordings and online smear campaigns.

Selena was awaiting trial.

Blair had been suspended.

Madison stayed on as a volunteer after
completing her discipline, not to earn

forgiveness, but to take responsibility
for her part.

Ava never went back to the family
foundation.

She and Olivia started a much smaller
program.

Rule number one, Recipients never owe
donors affection, public gratitude, or a

pretty success story.

My job was reminding her that
suggestions were not President's orders.

Her job was sliding hot milk across a
boundary that no longer existed.

Whenever I tried to carry everything
alone.

As for me, I still lived in the
President's suite.

The suitcase between our beds was long
gone.

The charity trophy sat by the window,
and the silver pen rested beside our

first official photo together.

You checked me out seven times during
the meeting today?

Ava said from the bed.

Six.

So you admit you were checking me out. I
lunged over and covered her mouth.

Laughing, she rolled us over and pressed
me into the soft mattress, her blonde

hair falling around my face.

Ask. Before you crossed the line, I
reminded her.

Riley Bennett?

She murmured against my lips, her voice
low enough to send heat through me.

Can I keep going?

I looped my arms around her neck and
started pulling her down toward me.