Crossed Lines
1000 Words
The headache had started in the morning — a dull throb behind Ava’s eyes. She brushed it off, blaming it on stress and lack of sleep. But by third period, the ache had turned sharp, and her vision was blurring.
She clutched her desk, breathing shallowly. Her classmates’ chatter faded into a distant echo. The room tilted. Ava blinked, trying to steady herself, but the light above seemed too bright, and the air felt too thin.
Then everything went dark.
A loud gasp filled the room as Ava collapsed from her seat, her body limp on the classroom floor. A few students stood in shock, unsure of what to do.
Ethan, sitting two rows away, didn’t hesitate.
“Ava!” he shouted, rushing toward her.
He dropped to his knees and gently cradled her against him. Her skin was burning hot. She wasn’t responding. Panic surged through him. Without a second thought, he lifted her into his arms and bolted for the hallway.
As he turned the corner, Jordan stepped out of the restroom and froze.
“What happened to her?” he asked, eyes wide, rushing to Ethan’s side.
Ethan didn’t answer.
“Did you do something to her?” Jordan demanded, trying to keep up.
“I said nothing,” Ethan snapped without looking back, walking faster.
Together, they burst through the doors of the school clinic. A middle-aged woman with tired eyes looked up from her clipboard.
“She fainted,” Ethan said, his voice tight. “She’s burning up.”
The woman stood quickly. “Put her here,” she instructed, gesturing to the nearest bed. “I’m Dr. Elaine Morrows. Let’s get her checked immediately.”
Jordan helped lower Ava onto the bed. Dr. Morrows took her vitals swiftly and frowned. “High temperature, clammy skin... classic symptoms. I’m running some quick tests, but this looks like severe malaria. Her fever is dangerously high.”
Ethan looked stricken. Jordan’s brows furrowed.
“We need to call her parents,” the doctor added. “Immediately.”
“I’ll do it,” Ethan said quickly.
“No, I’ll call her mom,” Jordan argued, stepping forward.
“She barely even trusts you!” Ethan snapped.
“She trusts me more than she trusts you right now!”
Ava stirred slightly on the bed, her face tightening. “Stop... arguing,” she whispered hoarsely, but they didn’t hear.
“Enough!” Dr. Morrows barked. “Neither of you is calling anyone. Give me her phone.”
She fished it from Ava’s backpack and found “Mom 💖” in her contacts. She dialed.
“Hello? Mrs. Morales? This is Dr. Elaine Morrows, the school physician. Your daughter Ava has collapsed from a fever. We suspect it’s malaria. You need to come immediately.”
Within half an hour, Ava’s mother arrived at the clinic, eyes wide with panic and fear.
“Where is she?” she asked breathlessly.
Dr. Morrows led her in. Ava lay on the bed, an IV attached to her arm, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.
“Mom...” Ava whispered faintly.
Her mother rushed to her side, brushing her hair from her damp forehead. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”
Both Ethan and Jordan stepped back to give them space. For a moment, the clinic was filled only with the sound of the IV drip and Ava’s labored breathing.
After a few hours, when Ava was stabilized, Ethan stood outside the clinic, staring at the darkening sky.
Jordan joined him, arms crossed. “You still didn’t answer my question. What really happened?”
Ethan didn’t look at him. “She was sick. That’s all.”
“She told me she’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” Jordan said. “You think this might’ve had anything to do with you?”
Ethan turned to him sharply. “You don’t know her like you think you do.”
“And you do?”
They locked eyes, the tension razor-sharp.
Before either could say more, Ava’s mom stepped out of the clinic. “Thank you both,” she said, her voice weary. “For staying.”
They nodded silently.
That night, Ethan arrived home later than usual.
Coach Thompson stood in the living room, arms folded, eyes cold. “You skipped practice,” he growled.
“I was at the clinic. A classmate fainted.”
“I don’t care who fainted. You have responsibilities.”
“She could’ve died, Dad,” Ethan said, exhaustion thick in his voice.
Coach Thompson stepped forward. “This is why you’ll never be great. You’re soft. Just like your mother.”
That was the final blow.
Without a word, Ethan turned around, walked to his room, and began packing his duffel bag.
Ten minutes later, he dragged it through the living room. His father didn’t even flinch.
“I’m going to Mom’s cousin’s place,” Ethan said quietly. “It’s just a short drive away. Don’t bother calling.”
Coach Thompson said nothing. Just stared at the TV as if his son didn’t exist.
Ethan arrived there, his cousin Janet Spencer, opened the door surprised to see him at night and he asked her if he could stay there for some weeks.She nodded in the positive and asked why the sudden leave from his house.
He then told her he's not in a good mood to reply her and promised her by morning he'll talk about it.She showed him a guest room to rest and bade him goodnight.
By midnight, Ethan lay on a the bed staring at the ceiling.
He felt hollow, but strangely... at peace.
Far away, Ava slept in a hospital bed, her mother by her side.
And somewhere, Jordan sat in his bedroom, smiling darkly at his ceiling, already imagining how he’d win Ava over completely — now that she saw him as her savior too.
But what he didn’t know was that Ethan wasn’t giving up that easily.
Not this time.
- Writer
