Chapter 2 2

The last day of winter break arrived with overcast skies and a biting wind that sliced through Maplewood like a final reminder: the comfort of home couldn't last forever.

Ava stared out the window of her mom's SUV, her breath fogging up the glass as the landscape rolled past. Her bags were in the trunk. Her heart, however, still felt parked somewhere between the porch swing and the frozen lake- between that first kiss and Jace's promise that they could make this work.

Her phone buzzed just as they reached the highway.

Jace:

Still wish you were coming to Ridgefield with me.

Ava:

I wish I was too. Road-tripping to two separate schools feels like a breakup montage waiting to happen.

Jace:

It's not a breakup.

Ava:

I know. But it still sucks.

Jace:

You sure about this?

She stared at his text. A week ago, she might've hesitated. Now?

Ava:

More than anything.

She could almost feel him smile through the screen.

---

Back at campus, everything felt different. The dorms still smelled like detergent and instant noodles. Students still hurried past with earbuds in and eyes glued to phones. But Ava walked through it all like someone wearing a secret. Like someone who'd finally tasted something real and was terrified of losing it.

Camila raised an eyebrow as soon as she entered their room. "You've got a glow. What happened? Did Maplewood install a spa over break?"

Ava tossed her duffel onto her bed and gave her a sheepish smile. "I kissed Jace."

Camila's jaw dropped. "No. Freaking. Way."

Ava laughed, nodding.

Camila threw her hands up. "It's about time! I thought you two were gonna pine until one of you died in a rocking chair clutching a love letter."

"It's still early," Ava teased.

"But wait... you guys are actually together now?"

"We're... figuring it out."

Camila plopped onto her bed, legs crossed. "So what does that mean? Long-distance relationship? Weekly FaceTimes and tragic playlists?"

"Pretty much," Ava said with a sigh. "But we both want this. We've wanted it for a long time."

Camila grinned. "I'm rooting for you two. Just remember-communication is everything. Like, everything. And if he starts acting weird, tell him. If you start feeling off, tell him. If the cafeteria makes your stomach hurt-"

"I get it, Cam," Ava said, laughing. "Thanks."

---

That first week back, everything felt hopeful.

Ava and Jace texted constantly. They FaceTimed almost every night, even if it was just for a few minutes. They sent each other photos-of coffee, class notes, books, stupid signs they passed on the way to lectures.

It wasn't perfect, but it was something.

Their relationship was new but built on a foundation so familiar it felt like second nature.

Still, cracks began to show.

By the third week, their call schedule began to slip. Jace had midterms. Ava had two lab projects and a club she had promised to help organize. Their late-night talks turned into late-night texts. Then into missed replies. Then into silence that lasted longer than either of them liked to admit.

One Friday night, Ava found herself alone in the library after everyone had cleared out for the weekend. She opened her messages and saw that Jace hadn't responded to her last text from two days ago.

She typed: Ava:

Hey. Haven't heard from you. Everything okay?

No reply.

---

The next day, Ava's phone finally buzzed.

Jace:

Sorry. Things have been crazy with the internship interviews and group projects. Didn't mean to disappear.

She stared at the screen. Rationally, she understood. Emotionally, it stung.

Ava:

I get it. Just wish you'd said something sooner.

Jace:

I know. I'm sorry.

She didn't reply immediately. She tossed her phone onto her desk and stared at the ceiling.

She wanted to believe this would be enough. That what they had could survive missed calls and unread messages. But part of her couldn't help but worry: were they slipping back into that space where words went unsaid?

---

When they finally FaceTimed on Sunday, Jace looked tired. His room was dimly lit, cluttered with papers and a half-eaten bowl of cereal on his desk.

"You look like you've been hit by a semester," she joked gently.

"I feel like it," he muttered. "I didn't want to bother you with all of it."

"You're not a bother, Jace."

He looked at her, guilt clouding his expression. "I know. I just... I suck at this."

"No, you don't," she said quickly. "We're both figuring it out. I just want to be part of your life-even the stressful parts."

He exhaled, nodding. "Okay. I'll do better."

"I will too," she promised.

There was a pause.

"Can I ask you something?" Ava said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever wonder if we should've just stayed friends?"

Jace looked stunned. "Do you think that?"

"No," she admitted. "But I'm scared sometimes. That we'll mess this up and won't even have our friendship left."

He leaned closer to the screen. "Ava, I don't care how hard this gets. I'd rather fight to make this work than go back to pretending we're just friends."

She blinked back tears. "Okay."

"I love you, Ava."

The words knocked the breath out of her. He'd never said them before- not like this.

She smiled, hand pressed to her heart. "I love you too."

---

February brought snowstorms and more silence.

Not between Ava and Jace-but within Ava herself. Even with the love and the promises, something felt... off.

She was losing her balance.

Classes were overwhelming. Her schedule was packed. And Jace, as much as she loved him, was still a glowing face on a screen most nights. She missed real touch. Real presence. Real simplicity.

One night, after a group project meeting ran late, she opened Instagram and saw a story someone had tagged Jace in.

He was at a party. Smiling. A girl with pink braids leaned close to him. Not touching, not kissing- just... close.

Ava stared at the image too long. She didn't want to be the jealous girlfriend. But she also didn't want to be the clueless one either.

She called him.

He answered on the third ring, the sound of music still echoing faintly in the background.

"Hey," he said, stepping into a quieter space. "Everything okay?"

Ava hesitated. "I saw a story. You're at a party?"

"Yeah. Roommate's birthday. Didn't stay long."

"She looked... close."

Jace frowned. "Who?"

"The girl with the braids."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. That's Lexie. She's in my writing class. She was just talking to me. That's it, Ava."

"I know. I just... I panicked."

"I'd never do that to you," he said firmly. "You believe that, right?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do."

But it didn't make the ache disappear.

---

The semester dragged on. Some weeks were full of connection- calls that went on for hours, laughter that healed old wounds, dreams spoken out loud. Other weeks were full of distance- missed messages, short calls, long silences.

It was a tug-of-war between love and logistics. Between emotion and exhaustion.

One late night in March, Ava wrote in her journal instead of calling Jace.

Sometimes I wonder if love is enough. If timing and distance and everything we're not saying will eventually drown out everything we are. But then I think of him. And it all feels worth fighting for again.

Spring was on the horizon, but Ava barely noticed. Her days blurred into back-to-back lectures, half-eaten lunches, and scribbled deadlines. Jace's name still flashed on her phone, but less often. Their conversations were shorter. The silences stretched longer. They weren't fighting, not exactly-but they were drifting. And Ava didn't know how to stop it.

Her phone buzzed late one Wednesday evening.

Jace:

Can we talk?

Her heart skipped.

Ava:

Yeah. Now?

Jace:

Now.

She slipped into the dorm lounge, wrapped in her hoodie, and called. When his face appeared on the screen, it felt like coming home-and yet so unfamiliar at the same time.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he echoed. His smile was tired. His eyes, heavy. "How are you?"

"I've been better."

He nodded. "Same."

A beat passed. She tucked her knees up to her chest.

"You sounded... serious in the text," she said carefully.

"I've been thinking," he said, staring down at his hands. "A lot. About us."

Ava's breath hitched. She knew where this was going before he even said it.

"I love you," he began. "You know that, right?"

She nodded slowly.

"But I don't know if love is enough when we're constantly missing each other. I feel like we're stuck in limbo-always waiting for the next visit, the next call, the next time we don't feel so... disconnected."

Ava's throat tightened. "So what are you saying?"

"I don't want to keep hurting you by not being there when you need me. I don't want to be a half-present version of the guy you deserve."

"Jace, I never asked for perfect," she whispered. "I just asked for you."

"I know," he said. "But maybe you deserve more than someone you only get pieces of."

She felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. "Are you... breaking up with me?"

He looked pained. "I don't want to. But maybe we need space to figure out if this-us-can survive without falling apart."

Tears welled in her eyes. "You said you'd fight for this."

"I did. And I have. But sometimes fighting doesn't fix what's broken."

She swallowed hard, fingers trembling as she gripped her phone.

"You're right," she said, her voice flat. "Maybe we both need to figure out who we are-without the weight of what ifs."

His eyes flickered. "Ava, I-"

"Don't," she said, cutting him off. "Let's not make this harder."

A long silence.

Then finally, with a nod and a sad smile, he said, "I'll always love you."

She stared at the screen, wishing she could hold on to the version of him from Maplewood-the boy who kissed her like she was his whole world.

"I'll always love you too," she whispered. "But maybe that's not enough right now."

And then the screen went dark.

---

The days that followed felt unreal. Ava went through the motions-smiling in class, nodding in meetings, laughing at Camila's jokes-but it all felt muted. Like she was living underwater.

Camila eventually cornered her. "What's going on?"

Ava shrugged. "We broke up."

Camila blinked. "You and Jace? But... I thought things were good."

"They were. And they weren't. We just... couldn't hold it together."

Camila sat beside her on the bed, silent for a moment. Then: "Do you regret being with him?"

"No," Ava said instantly. "Loving him was the most natural thing I've ever done."

"Then maybe it wasn't a mistake," Camila said. "Even if it didn't last."

Ava didn't reply. She just stared at the ceiling, letting her friend's words hang in the quiet.

---

Weeks passed. April bloomed with soft winds and cherry blossoms lining the campus sidewalks. Ava buried herself in coursework. She journaled more. She stayed late at the library. She did everything she could to outrun the hollow ache inside her. And then one afternoon, she walked into a coffee shop off-campus and froze.

Jace was there. He was sitting by the window, sketching in his notebook, headphones in, completely unaware of her presence. Her heart thundered. She could turn around. She could walk away and pretend she hadn't seen him. But her feet betrayed her. She walked over. He looked up and blinked in surprise. Then slowly removed his headphones.

"Ava."

She nodded. "Hey."

They stared at each other, and for a moment, the world quieted.

"I didn't know you were in town," she said.

"Visiting for the weekend. My cousin's birthday."

"Oh."

A pause.

"You look good," he said softly.

"Thanks."

"You... okay?"

She shrugged. "Some days."

He looked down, then back at her. "Me too."

Another pause. Then he stood. "Do you want to sit?"

She hesitated- then nodded.

They talked for an hour. About school. Mutual friends. Summer plans. Safe things. Easy things. But the tension lingered beneath every word. As they stood to leave, Jace looked at her. "I miss you."

Ava's throat tightened. "I miss you too."

They didn't kiss. They didn't make promises. They just stood there, two people carrying history between them.

He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. "Maybe someday."

She nodded. "Maybe."

And then she walked away, heart heavier and lighter all at once.

---

That night, Ava wrote in her journal again.

> We loved quietly, then loudly. We fell in sync and out of step. And maybe the timing was wrong, but the love was real. It still is. I'll carry it with me- even if I don't carry him.

---