summer of ava

The shift

But Ava was impossible to ignore.

She kept talking to him, kept cracking jokes, kept existing loudly in his space. And somehow—Jason couldn't pinpoint exactly when—it stopped being annoying and started being... something else.

Maybe it was the day she brought extra snacks and slid a bag of chips onto his desk without a word. Maybe it was when she drew a ridiculous cartoon of Mr. Patterson as a superhero and showed it to Jason, making him snort-laugh despite himself. Maybe it was the afternoon she noticed he was stuck on a problem and, instead of being smug about it, genuinely walked him through it step by step until something clicked in his brain.

By the third week, Jason found himself waiting for her to arrive each day. Found himself listening for her laugh. Found himself checking his phone for her texts—funny memes, random math puns, or just "Guess what? I tripped over my own feet again. New record."

He'd never admit it out loud, but Ava was becoming the best part of his summer.

One day during lunch break, they sat outside on the school steps. Most of the other students went home or to the cafeteria, but Jason and Ava had fallen into the habit of eating together.

She pulled out her lunch—a sandwich, an apple, some cookies—and immediately broke the sandwich in half. She handed him one half without asking.

"Eat. You look like a sad stick."

Jason took it, smirking. "Wow. Romantic."

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, taking a bite of her half.

But he noticed her cheeks turn pink. And he noticed that he didn't mind it.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, watching other kids pass by, listening to the distant sound of traffic and birds.

"Why'd you end up in summer school anyway?" Jason asked. "You're like... annoyingly good at math."

Ava shrugged. "I was homeschooled last year. My parents wanted me to get 'socialized' before regular school starts, so they signed me up for this. Figured I might as well take a class I like."

"You like math?"

"Don't say it like it's a disease," she laughed. "Math makes sense. It's like... puzzles. There's always an answer if you look hard enough."

Jason thought about that. "What if you're just bad at puzzles?"

"Then you find someone who's good at them and ask for help," Ava said simply. "No shame in that."

He looked at her—really looked at her. At the way the sunlight caught in her messy hair, at the genuine kindness in her eyes behind those ridiculous glasses, at the easy way she existed in the world, like she wasn't afraid of being herself.

"You're weird, Ava."

She grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment, Mystery Boy."

"It's Jason," he said. Finally.

Her grin got wider. "I know. I heard Mr. Patterson call on you like a hundred times. I was just waiting for you to tell me yourself."

Jason shook his head, but he was smiling.