Original subtitles

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.