Between Us

Chapter 16 — Different Now

The thing about getting what you wanted was that it came with a whole new set of things to be anxious about.

When it was fake I knew the rules. There was a script — walk together, sit together, look convincing, go home. Clean. Structured. Manageable.

Real didn't have a script.

Real was Zane texting me good morning on Tuesday and me staring at my phone for four minutes trying to figure out if I responded the same way I always had or if everything was different now.

Everything was different now.

Denise found out at 7:15am.

I don't know how she knew — I hadn't said anything, I'd barely processed it myself — but she looked at my face when I came back from the bathroom and sat up in bed with the energy of someone whose alarm had just gone off except there was no alarm.

"Something happened," she said.

"Good morning Denise."

"Don't good morning me. Something happened."

I sat on my bed. Looked at my hands. "We're — not fake anymore."

The sound Denise made was not a word. It was something above language. She grabbed her pillow and pressed it to her face and made a sustained noise into it that communicated everything she needed to say.

I waited for her to finish.

She lowered the pillow. Her eyes were bright. "I KNEW it."

"You don't need to—"

"I have been WATCHING this happen for WEEKS—"

"Denise—"

"The hoodie! The lunch! The 2am calls that you thought I didn't know about—"

"I knew you knew about those."

"The way he looks at you Ava!" She threw the pillow at me. "Like you're the only person in the room!!"

I caught the pillow. Held it. Tried not to smile.

Failed completely.

Denise pointed at me. "There it is."

"There what is."

"That smile." She lay back looking satisfied. "I haven't seen that one before."

I put the pillow over my own face.

"Tell no one," I said into it.

"Too late I'm telling Serena."

"DENISE—"

I saw Zane before BIO 215 like always.

Except this time when he fell into step beside me there was a moment — brief, just a second — where we both registered that this was different now. Not fake different. Real different.

He looked at me sideways.

I looked at him sideways.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said back.

We walked in silence for a moment.

"This is weird again," he said.

"A little bit."

"We've literally talked every day for weeks."

"I know."

"Why is it weird again?"

I thought about it. "Because the last time it was weird we were pretending. Now we're not pretending and the rules are different and neither of us knows what the rules are."

He was quiet for a moment. "Fair."

"We'll figure it out," I said.

"Yeah." Something settled in his expression. "We will."

The first real difference I noticed was small.

After BIO 215 he waited for me while I talked to the lecturer about Wednesday's assessment — just stood by the door, scrolling his phone, unhurried. Before, when everything was for show, he'd always positioned himself where people could see. Now he was just — waiting. Because he wanted to.

Nobody was watching.

He was still there.

I thought about that the whole walk to the library.

We studied for two hours. Normal, comfortable, the easy rhythm we'd built over weeks. At some point his hand found mine on the table between us and stayed there and we both just let it happen without either of us making it a thing.

Around 4pm he said — not looking up from his notes, "Can I take you somewhere Saturday?"

I looked up. "Where?"

"Somewhere I like. Not for Keira, not for anyone." He met my eyes briefly. "Just because I want to show you."

I considered him for a moment.

"Okay," I said.

He went back to his notes. But the corner of his mouth moved in a way that did something completely unreasonable to my chest.

That evening I was walking back from the library alone — Zane had a call with his father he'd been preparing himself for all day, I could tell by the way his shoulders had gotten tighter toward the end of our session — when I ran into Keira.

Properly this time. Just the two of us, narrow path, no avoiding it.

I braced myself.

But Keira just looked at me for a moment and then said — quietly, without the performance — "You're good for him you know."

I blinked.

She didn't wait for a response. Just kept walking, shoulders straight, head up, the way she always moved through the world.

I stood there for a second.

Then I kept walking too.

Zane texted at 10pm.

Call went okay. Better than expected.

I smiled at my phone.

I'm glad, I typed. What happened?

He told me — not everything, but more than he'd shared before, like something had loosened slightly. His father had listened for once. Nothing was resolved but something had shifted.

That's progress, I said.

Yeah. A pause. Thanks for — I don't know. Being someone I can say that to.

I read that message three times.

Anytime, I typed. I mean it. Anytime.

A pause.

Saturday, he said. 10am. Wear something comfortable.

Mysterious.

You'll see.

I put my phone down and looked at the ceiling and thought about how three weeks ago I'd walked into the wrong classroom and been annoyed about it.

Funny how things go.