I stared at my phone long after Ava stopped replying.
She was usually quick. Always witty. Always something sweet, even if it was just a shy "hmm" or a heart emoji. But now? Nothing.
I checked the time. 11:07 PM. I debated texting again — something light like "Did I make you blush into a coma?" — but something didn't sit right.
And then, finally, she texted.
> Ava:
Damien… someone just messaged me from a random number. It said "Careful who you trust. Not everyone is who they seem."
I sat up straighter in bed, the muscles in my jaw clenching.
Who the hell was messing with her?
> Me:
Send me a screenshot. Right now.
She did.
I recognized the number format. Not saved. No ID. Nothing. Could be a prank… or worse.
I didn't even hesitate.
> Me:
Block them. Right now. Don't reply. Don't even open it again.
> Ava:
Do you think it's someone from school?
> Me:
If it is, they're about to seriously regret it.
I paused.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing again.
> Me:
Ava, listen to me. Whoever it is, they don't get to mess with you. Not when I'm here.
She didn't respond for a minute. But then three little dots danced across the screen.
> Ava:
Why do I feel safer just by you saying that?
> Me:
Maybe because I mean it.
---
I leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through my hair. I wasn't just angry. I was... protective. That was a new feeling.
I heard my door creak open. Of course.
Ezra.
In pajamas, hair messy, holding a bag of chips like he owned the place.
"You good?" he asked, hopping onto the edge of my bed without asking.
"I'm fine," I muttered, flipping my phone face-down.
He squinted at me. "Is this about your mystery muse?"
I said nothing.
"Okay, fine," he said, crunching a chip loudly. "Then I'll ask Ava directly tomorrow—oh wait. I already got her number, remember?"
I glared at him.
Ezra grinned. "Relax, Romeo. I didn't use it. Just gave it to you. I ship you two way too hard to ruin it."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
"Seriously though," he said, suddenly quieter, "you've never looked at anyone the way you look at her."
I exhaled slowly. "Yeah."
"You gonna tell her how you feel soon?"
I looked at the phone screen again. Her last message still glowing.
> Why do I feel safer just by you saying that?
"Maybe," I said quietly. "But only when I'm sure she feels the same."
Ezra threw a pillow at me. "She does, idiot. She just doesn't know she does yet."
---
As I lay back and stared at the ceiling, one thought ran through my mind on loop:
> Whoever tried to scare her... made the mistake of underestimating what she means to me.
---