Chloe showed up at my house with an overnight bag, a tub of popcorn, two sodas, and the biggest smirk on her face.
"You," she said, the moment she walked into my room, "are going to tell me everything."
I laughed, flopping onto the bed. "Hi to you too."
"Who told you about my place." I asked.
"Nope. Not until you hand over your phone. I want to see all the messages."
I clutched my phone to my chest. "You're worse than the FBI."
"And way cuter," she winked.
---
We set up blankets and snacks, threw on a rom-com that neither of us paid attention to, and gossiped under fairy lights while doing face masks that made us look like swamp creatures.
"So," Chloe said, munching on popcorn, "you and Damien. What's the deal?"
I stared at the ceiling, heat blooming on my cheeks.
"I don't know… He's just… I feel something when I talk to him."
"Something or everything?" she teased.
I threw a pillow at her.
She ducked and squealed. "Girl, don't lie! I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like—ugh, like he's memorizing you."
My heart jumped a little. "You really think so?"
Chloe nodded like it was obvious. "He doesn't even talk to girls. Like ever. And the way he saved you in the hallway? That's straight out of a Wattpad story."
I grinned, remembering the way his fingers had laced with mine like it was natural. Like he didn't even think about it—he just did it.
"He texted me tonight," I whispered.
Chloe gasped like I'd said we were getting married.
"Oh my gosh, what did he say?"
I opened the messages, and she read through them with wide eyes and dramatic gasps.
"Ava," she breathed. "He wants to sketch you under the evening sky?? I'm gonna cry. This is adorable."
I buried my face in a pillow. "I know! I don't even know how to act normal around him tomorrow!"
She smiled, setting the phone down. "Just be you. You're the one he's sketching, remember?"
I looked at her. "I'm scared."
She softened. "Of what?"
"That this is all in my head. That he's just being nice."
Chloe took my hand.
"Listen to me. Damien Knight doesn't do 'just nice.' That boy has been emotionally locked up for years and now he's texting you, drawing you, smiling at you in class… Ava, he's falling. Hard."
I bit my lip.
She added with a grin, "And you're falling right back."
I smiled like a fool. "Maybe."
We ended up staying up till 2 a.m., laughing over the dumbest things, sharing secrets, and building dramatic fake futures where Damien and I ran away to open an art studio together.
And somewhere between the third snack break and the tenth inside joke, I realized…
I wasn't scared anymore.
I was excited.
Because something real was starting.
And tomorrow, I'd walk into school—not just
as the new girl—
But as the girl Damien Knight couldn't stop looking at.