Chapter 1: Fractured Echoes

Ava’s fingers clenched around the strap of her bag as she walked through the crowded school hallway. The buzz of conversation, laughter, and the occasional locker slamming together created a chaotic melody she had learned to tune out. She kept her gaze straight ahead, willing herself not to turn, not to look, not to acknowledge the presence she could feel just a few feet behind her. Noah Reynolds. His name was a weight pressing against her chest, an unwanted echo of a past she wished she could erase. Once, he had been her everything—the boy who had held her hand when she was scared, who had whispered ridiculous jokes to make her laugh, who had promised, in the naïve way teenagers did, that he would always be there. And then he wasn’t. The sharp pang of betrayal twisted inside her, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to breathe evenly. She had mastered this art—pretending he didn’t exist, pretending his presence didn’t send a storm raging through her veins. Ava had rebuilt herself, brick by brick, after her mother died and Noah walked away as if she had been nothing but an inconvenience. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. The thought barely formed before her traitorous eyes flickered to the side, catching a glimpse of dark curls and sharp blue eyes. Noah was walking a few feet away, his posture relaxed, and his expression unreadable. He always looked that way now—calm, detached, as if nothing touched him. As if the past didn’t weigh on him like it did on her. Anger coiled hot in her stomach. How dare he? How dare he act like she didn’t exist, like she hadn’t once mattered? It was as if he had flipped a switch and erased everything between them, while she was left drowning in memories she couldn’t escape. Ava’s fists tightened, nails biting into her palm. She didn’t have time for this. Today was just another day, another step closer to finishing school and getting as far away from this place—and from him—as possible. “Hey, Ava!” She blinked, her focus snapping back to the present as her best friend, Lia, appeared beside her. The warmth of her presence was an instant relief, grounding her in something real, something safe. “You okay?” Lia asked, her brows knitting together in concern. “Yeah,” Ava lied smoothly, forcing a smile. “Just tired.” Lia didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “Well, you won’t have time to be tired. Mr. Carter is looking for volunteers to help with art supplies in the storeroom. And guess who he already signed up?” Ava groaned. “Lia—” “Don’t ‘Lia’ me. You need to do something other than brood in the library. Plus, it’s just sorting supplies. What’s the worst that could happen?” The answer to that question arrived seconds later in the form of Mr. Carter himself, walking toward them with a clipboard and an enthusiastic grin. “Ah, Ava! Perfect timing. You and Noah will be working together in the storeroom today.” Ava’s stomach plummeted. “What?” she blurted, barely managing to keep her voice even. Mr. Carter nodded, oblivious to the sudden tension between her and the boy standing a few feet away. “Noah already agreed, and we need another set of hands. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Ava didn’t need to look at Noah to know he had heard. She could feel it—that shift in the air, the unspoken awareness that existed between them despite everything. Lia winced sympathetically, whispering, “Oops.” Ava wanted to run. She wanted to refuse. But she also knew Mr. Carter wouldn’t take no for an answer, and backing out now would only make her look weak. So she lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and muttered, “Fine.” Noah didn’t say anything. He just turned and walked toward the storeroom, leaving Ava no choice but to follow. The space was small and cluttered, shelves packed with paint cans, brushes, and rolls of canvas stacked haphazardly. The air smelled of turpentine and dust, and the dim lighting did little to ease the suffocating tightness in her chest. For a few minutes, they worked in silence, sorting through supplies with an unspoken agreement to ignore each other. But the weight of unsaid words pressed against Ava like a vice, tightening with every second that passed. Finally, she snapped. “You don’t have to act like this is some huge burden, you know.” Noah paused, a can of paint in his hand. He turned to her, his gaze calm, unreadable. “I never said it was.” His voice was deeper than she remembered steadier. It sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine, but she refused to let it show. “Right. Because you don’t care about anything, do you?” she said bitterly. Something flickered in his expression, too fast for her to decipher. “Believe whatever you want, Ava.” Her jaw clenched. “I don’t have to believe anything. I know exactly who you are.” Noah exhaled, placing the can on the shelf with slow precision. “Do you?” The quiet question caught her off guard, but she refused to back down. “Yeah. I do.” He studied her for a long moment before shaking his head slightly. “Then I guess there’s nothing left to say.” Ava opened her mouth to retort, but the words lodged in her throat. Because deep down, she hated that he was right. The worst part of losing someone wasn’t the absence—it was the knowing that they had chosen to leave. And Noah had made his choice a long time ago. So she turned away, focusing on the supplies, on the task at hand. Because at least here, in this moment, she had something she could control. Even if everything else felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

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