summer of ava

THE BEST DAYS

After that, something shifted between them. Not dramatically—no big confession or movie moment. Just a quiet understanding that they were friends now. Real friends.

Jason started actually trying in class. Not because his mom wanted him to, or because he was afraid of failing, but because Ava made it seem possible. She'd study with him after class, explaining concepts in ways that finally made sense, never making him feel stupid when he messed up.

"Okay, think of it this way," she'd say, drawing pictures and diagrams. "If variables are like boxes, and you're trying to figure out what's inside..."

And somehow, with her explanations, the boxes would open. The numbers would make sense. Jason pulled his grade up to a C+, then a B-. Mr. Patterson actually smiled at him once.

But it wasn't just about math anymore.

They started hanging out outside of class. Ava would drag him to the park to feed ducks ("They're so judgmental, look at that one!"), or to the library where she'd show him her favorite books, or to get ice cream at this place that had weird flavors like lavender honey and black sesame.

Jason learned things about her. She wanted to be an engineer. She'd moved around a lot as a kid because her dad was in the military. She had a younger brother she talked about constantly. She was afraid of thunderstorms but loved the rain. She could draw really well but didn't think she was good enough. She listened to embarrassingly cheesy pop music and wasn't ashamed of it.

And Jason talked too. Actually talked, more than he had with anyone in a long time. About how he felt invisible at school. About how his parents were always working and barely noticed him. About how he liked photography but never showed anyone his pictures because he was sure they were terrible.

"Show me," Ava demanded one day.

"No way."

"Come on! Please? I showed you my bad drawings."

"Your drawings aren't bad."

"Then your photos aren't either. Show me."

So he did. Pulled out his phone and scrolled through the photos he'd taken—shots of the city at dawn, close-ups of rusty fences and cracked sidewalks, portraits of strangers on the subway.

Ava went quiet, studying each one. Then she looked up at him, serious for once. "Jason. These are amazing."

"You're just being nice."

"I'm really not. I'm actually kind of jealous. You see things differently than other people."

Something warm bloomed in Jason's chest. He'd never felt seen like that before. Like maybe he wasn't just some kid failing math and wasting space. Like maybe he had something worth sharing with the world.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Ava punched his arm lightly. "Don't get all emotional on me now."

But she was smiling that soft smile that made his heart do weird things.