The Summer She Refused to Break

The first thing Ava Monroe did every morning was feed a cat that didn’t belong to her. “Good morning, Oliver.” The orange tabby looked up from his spot beneath the apartment stairs, stretched dramatically, and rubbed against her leg before meowing loud enough for the entire complex to hear. “I know,” Ava laughed, pulling a small bag of treats from her purse. “You’re absolutely starving. Just like yesterday.” Oliver accepted the treats with all the dignity of a king accepting tribute. Mrs. Ramirez from Apartment 2B leaned out her front door carrying a watering can. “I swear that cat likes you more than the people who actually own him.” Ava smiled. “I think he just knows where the snacks come from.” Mrs. Ramirez chuckled. “He waits for you every morning.” Oliver proved her point by weaving between Ava’s ankles until she scratched behind his ears. “You’ve spoiled him.” “I have not.” “You absolutely have.” Ava stood, brushing cat hair from her black scrubs. She had worked the opening shift at Willow Bean Café and still smelled faintly of espresso and vanilla syrup. “I should get going.” Mrs. Ramirez smiled warmly. “Have a good day at school.” “You too.” The older woman laughed. “I’m seventy-three, sweetheart.” “Right.” “You tell everyone to have a good day.” “I do?” “You’ve been doing it for two years.” Ava covered her face. “I’ve got to stop saying that.” “Please don’t.” Mrs. Ramirez reached over and squeezed her arm. “The world’s nicer because you do.” The words stayed with Ava as she climbed into her aging silver Honda. The passenger door still squeaked. The air conditioner only worked when it felt like cooperating. The radio had exactly three stations that came in clearly. She loved the car anyway. It had belonged to her father. Every dent told a story. Every mile reminded her that he had worked overtime for months to buy it before he passed away. She rested both hands on the steering wheel. “I’ll take good care of it.” She made that promise every morning. Traffic into Willow Creek University was heavier than usual. Students hurried across crosswalks carrying backpacks twice the size they needed. Someone skateboarded through the parking lot with a coffee balanced in one hand. Another student was already running late, sprinting toward the science building while trying to zip a backpack closed. Campus looked alive. Ava parked in her usual spot nearly half a mile from the nursing building. Closer parking required permits she couldn’t afford. She didn’t mind walking. Most mornings. Today the crisp autumn air felt nice. She slipped her backpack over one shoulder and started toward campus. Halfway across the quad she heard someone call her name. “Ava!” She turned just in time to catch Chloe jogging toward her with two coffees. “You were walking too fast.” “I was?” “You have long legs.” “You are literally taller than me.” “That’s beside the point.” Chloe handed her one of the coffees. “Vanilla latte.” Ava frowned. “I thought you had an eight o’clock class.” “I do.” “So why are you buying me coffee?” “Because you’re my best friend and because I know you skipped breakfast.” “I wasn’t going to skip breakfast.” “You absolutely were.” Ava accepted the coffee. “I hate that you know me so well.” “I know.” They walked together through campus, weaving around groups of students. “So,” Chloe said casually. “You have dinner tonight.” Ava smiled without meaning to. “I do.” “Anniversary dinner.” “Three years.” Chloe bumped her shoulder. “You seem happy.” “I am.” “You think he’s finally going to ask?” Ava nearly choked on her coffee. “What?” “The ring.” “There isn’t a ring.” “You’ve checked?” “I haven’t checked!” Chloe laughed so hard several students turned to look. “I’m kidding.” “I almost believed you.” “I know.” Ava shook her head. “Mason wouldn’t propose while we’re still in school.” “You’ve got the whole future planned out already.” “I guess.” She had. Graduate. Pass the NCLEX. Get a nursing job. Marry Mason. Buy a little house. Maybe a dog. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t exciting. But it sounded peaceful. She liked peaceful. As they reached the nursing building, Chloe stopped. “I’ve got class.” “I’ll see you later.” “Don’t forget.” “What?” “If he proposes, I expect pictures before you call your mother.” Ava rolled her eyes. “Go to class.” “I’m serious.” “I know.” They hugged before heading in opposite directions. Inside the nursing building, Ava settled into her usual seat near the middle of the lecture hall. Not the front. Not the back. The middle felt safe. Students slowly filled the room. She opened her notebook and began organizing today’s notes before class even started. “You’re making the rest of us look bad.” She looked up. Emily dropped into the seat beside her. “I like being organized.” “You color-code your notes.” “It helps.” Emily laughed. “It also makes me feel lazy.” Before Ava could answer, the professor walked in carrying a stack of folders. The room quieted. As class began, Ava focused completely on the lecture. She always did. Helping people had never been just a career choice. It was who she was. She wanted to be the nurse who remembered a frightened patient’s name. The one who noticed when someone was scared before they said a word. The one who made hospitals feel a little less lonely. It wasn’t glamorous. But neither was kindness. And kindness had always mattered more to Ava than being noticed. She had no idea that, from the back of the lecture hall, someone noticed her every single day. Not because she was the prettiest girl in the room. Not because she was the loudest. But because she was the only person who stayed after class to help an elderly guest lecturer gather papers scattered across the floor. She didn’t know that someone quietly smiled as she did it. She didn’t know he’d been noticing little moments like that for years. She certainly didn’t know that, in a matter of days, her carefully planned life was going to fall apart. For now, Ava Monroe was simply an ordinary college student with a kind heart, a loyal best friend, and a future she believed was certain. She had no way of knowing that ordinary was about to become something she would never experience again.