It had been weeks.
Weeks of silence, of aching restraint, of pretending like he hadn't fallen harder than he ever meant to.
Ava smiled at him differently now. She lingered when he walked by. Asked him questions. Waited for his answers.
But she didn't know. Not really.
She didn't know he'd stopped fighting because he was afraid she'd see him as cruel. That he turned down parties and girls because no voice made his heart race like hers. That he sat on the steps near her classes, just to hear her laugh once before lunch.
He wasn't going to mess this up.
He wasn't going to mess this up.
Until Kevin.
Kevin-freaking-Taylor. With his clean jokes and stupid varsity jacket and that smirk like he had a chance.
Alex had watched it happen from across the hallway. Saw Kevin step up beside her locker. He couldn't hear everything — just the parts that mattered.
"You're really pretty, you know that?"
Ava smiled — polite, confused.
"You, uh… wanna go out sometime?"
She laughed. Laughed.
Not a no. Not a yes. Just… that sweet, soft, confusing sound that made Alex see red.
Kevin touched her arm.
That was it.
Alex didn't remember walking. Just fists.
The hallway cleared in seconds. Shouting, someone calling a teacher, Ava's voice trying to cut through the chaos.
But Alex didn't stop until Kevin was on the floor, blood on his lip and fear in his eyes.
"You don't get to touch her," Alex growled, low and shaking. "You don't even get to look at her."
And that's when he saw her.
Ava. Frozen.
Her books scattered, hands trembling, eyes wide.
She didn't look scared of Kevin.
She looked scared of him.
Alex stepped back like he'd been punched in the gut.
The principal's voice blurred into noise. Leo pulled him away before he could say something even dumber.
But all Alex could see was the way Ava had flinched. Just slightly. Just enough.
He was trying to be better.
But maybe he was still that guy.
Still the boy who broke things.
Even when all he wanted to do was hold her gently.
---
They didn't speak right after.
He got suspended. Two days.
It wasn't the first time, and everyone knew it wouldn't be the last.
But when Alex walked out of the office, fists still aching and ego bruised worse than Kevin's lip — she was there.
Sitting on the edge of the concrete steps, arms wrapped around her knees, coat drawn tight even though it wasn't that cold.
Ava.
She looked up.
Not angry.
Just quiet.
And then her eyes dropped to his hands.
His knuckles — red, cracked, starting to swell.
She stood.
Stepped close.
He didn't know what to expect — a slap, a rant, silence.
What he didn't expect was her fingers gently taking his wrist.
"You didn't even bandage it," she murmured, thumb grazing the raw skin.
Alex swallowed hard. "I'm fine."
"You're an idiot," she said, so softly it didn't sting. "You hit walls harder than you hit people."
He tried to laugh. It cracked instead.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
Because what could he say?
Because I saw another guy try to take what's not his?
Because I don't know how to be soft, but I'm trying for you?
Because you smiled and I lost my mind?
Instead, he said, "Did he scare you?"
She blinked. "What? No. Kevin's harmless."
That hurt more than it should have.
Then she looked up at him — eyes sharper this time. "But you scared me, Alex."
He stepped back like she'd slapped him. "I didn't mean—"
"I know." Her voice cracked. "But you did."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Ava reached into her bag, pulled out a small pack of tissues and a Band-Aid — like she knew he'd need it.
She handed it to him.
He didn't move.
So she did it herself.
Carefully, quietly, she wrapped the wound.
He watched her.
And for the first time in forever, he wished he could be someone else. Someone who didn't scare her. Someone who didn't bleed rage.
Someone worthy of a girl who carried band-aids for boys like him.