Chapter 6 THE SPARK REIGNITES

It started with a group project.

Ava had walked into her Media Studies elective late, expecting to pair with Maya as usual.

But Maya had switched out.

And when the professor announced, "Ava Brooks, you'll be working with Liam Rivera," she almost laughed.

Of course.

Of course, the universe would play this card now.

She didn't look at him when she slid into the seat beside him. But she could feel his presence like static-quiet, pulsing, impossible to ignore.

"Hey," he said softly.

She hesitated. Then returned a clipped, "Hey."

Progress.

They met later that evening in the campus library.

It wasn't like before-no jokes, no teasing. Just laptops, books, and long silences.

But every silence was filled with something.

"So," Liam finally said, scrolling through articles. "Are we... okay working together?"

Ava didn't look up. "We don't have to be friends to collaborate."

That stung more than it should have.

"I wasn't asking for friendship," he said. Then, quieter, "But it'd be nice to not feel like a ghost sitting next to you."

That made her look up.

And for the first time in months, their eyes held contact.

Neither spoke.

But neither looked away.

Their second session was... different.

More relaxed.

Liam brought coffee-her favorite, still remembered. She didn't thank him, but she drank it.

They argued over the direction of the project, and when she rolled her eyes, he smiled like it was familiar.

"Still stubborn," he said under his breath.

She looked at him. "Still smug."

But her lips twitched.

And that almost-smile haunted him for the rest of the night.

This doesn't mean anything. It's just school. Just business.

But her heart had its own rhythm again.

And Liam's laugh-quiet and hesitant-was beginning to sync with it.

I'm not falling for him again, she told herself.

But she never really stopped.

After their third study session, Liam surprised her by walking her home.

It was silent until he stopped at the steps to her dorm.

"I've been trying to figure out how to say this," he began, voice low, "but... I'm sorry."

Ava froze.

"For what exactly?" she asked.

"For not choosing you loud enough. For not explaining everything. For not being the guy you deserved."

A long pause.

She stared at him.

And said, "You still haven't told me why."

Liam looked away. "I was scared. That you'd see all the broken parts and leave."

"I already saw them," she said. "And I stayed."

The words sat between them like something sacred.

Then she added, "Until you didn't."

And turned to go inside.

Later, Ava vented to Maya.

"He apologized. Finally. But part of me feels like it's too little too late."

"And the other part?" Maya asked.

Ava swallowed. "The other part... still cares. Even when I wish it didn't."

Maya smiled gently. "He doesn't look at anyone else like he looks at you. I've seen it."

Ava sighed. "I just don't know if I can trust that look again."

They stood together at the front of the classroom, presenting their campaign on digital empathy.

Liam was calm, collected, and confident. But every time Ava spoke, he glanced her way like she hung the stars.

And when she caught him doing it once, she didn't look away.

After class, their professor complimented their chemistry.

"Great balance between passion and restraint," he said.

Neither responded. But their eyes met.

Passion and restraint.

That sounded exactly like them.

Later that week, Ava climbed the stairs to the old rooftop for the first time since it all fell apart.

She didn't know why.

Maybe to see if the stars still looked the same.

She didn't expect him to be there.

But he was-sitting quietly, hoodie on, sketchbook in hand.

He looked up, startled. "I didn't think you'd come up here anymore."

"I didn't think you still did."

Silence.

Then she sat beside him.

No touching.

No declarations.

Just breathing together under the stars that hadn't changed, even though they had.

And maybe, just maybe... that was a start.

When the professor paired Ava and Liam together, something cracked in both of them-but neither let it show.

Ava kept her face impassive. Liam forced a nod and a polite "Cool."

But under the table, his hand clenched into a fist.

She didn't owe him civility. She owed him nothing.

Still, when they met at the library later that week, she showed up on time.

And for Liam, that alone felt like a miracle.

They sat across from each other.

Textbooks between them like a shield.

Ava typed. Liam fidgeted.

Finally, she spoke. "We'll divide the outline. You take the visuals. I'll handle the research. We can merge the script later."

He nodded. "Okay."

Then added quietly, "You're still the best at this stuff."

She glanced up. "Flattery doesn't work on me anymore."

He gave a faint smile. "Wasn't flattery. Just fact."

A pause. Her expression didn't change, but for the first time, she didn't shut him down completely.

The tiniest crack in the ice.

Their second meeting was better. Not warm-but easier.

They argued over a title slide and Ava, frustrated, called him "design-blind."

Liam blinked, then said, "At least I don't make every title sound like a Netflix documentary."

A beat.

Then-laughter.

Her laughter.

Quick. Unfiltered.

It slipped out before she could stop it. And for a moment, they both froze in it.

"I forgot you could be funny," she muttered.

"I forgot how good your laugh sounds," he replied, too fast.

Silence again.

But this time, it didn't hurt.

Liam offered to walk her back. To his surprise, she said yes.

The evening air was cool. Quiet.

"Do you ever think about how weird it is?" he asked.

"What?"

"This. Us. Going from never talking... to everything... to nothing."

She nodded. "Every day."

He hesitated. "Would you have changed it? If you could go back?"

Ava thought for a moment. Then said, "No. But I would've held you to your word more."

That one hit hard.

He deserved it.

Still, she didn't walk faster or pull away.

That was something.

At their next study session, he brought her coffee again.

No fanfare. Just set it down in front of her like it was normal.

She eyed it. "This doesn't mean anything, right?"

"No," he said. "Just... old habits."

She sipped it anyway.

That sip felt more intimate than a thousand kisses.

Liam's sister, Camila, noticed the change.

"You've been... softer," she said one evening while folding laundry. "Did you finally talk to her?"

He didn't need to ask who.

"Yeah. Sort of. It's complicated."

Camila looked up. "Do you love her?"

He didn't blink. "Always have."

"Then don't screw it up this time."

He nodded, quieter now. "I don't think I get another shot."

Camila smiled. "Then make this one count."

On presentation day, something shifted.

They stood side-by-side at the front of the room, calm and in sync.

Their slides flowed. Their voices balanced. When Ava spoke passionately about digital empathy, Liam looked at her like she was reading his mind.

And when he wrapped it up with a simple, "Connection only matters if it's honest," Ava froze for half a second.

Was that for the class-or for her?

She didn't ask.

She just nodded slightly.

And he saw it.

They lingered by the door after the presentation.

"Good job," she said.

"You too."

Then silence again.

"I meant what I said," Liam added softly. "About honesty."

She looked at him. Long and slow. "So be honest. What do you want from me, Liam?"

He swallowed. "A chance to show I'm not who I was."

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "And what if I don't know if I can believe that?"

He stepped back. "Then I'll keep showing you. Even if it takes a while."

For the first time, she didn't walk away right away.

Later that night, Ava climbed the rooftop.

She didn't know why-habit, nostalgia, maybe hope.

And there he was.

Sketchbook on his lap. Hoodie drawn up. The city lights behind him like a painting.

"I didn't think you'd be here," he said.

"I didn't think you'd be."

They sat side by side. Close, but not touching.

She glanced at the sketchbook.

"Still draw me?" she asked.

He didn't look embarrassed. Just turned it so she could see.

It was her.

Not perfect. Not polished. But real.

She stared at it. "Why?"

He looked at her then.

"Because you never left my head. Even when I wanted you to."

She didn't reply.

She didn't need to.

The fact she stayed said enough.