Hearts Rewritten

Misread Signals

The following week at Westbrook University began with gray skies and a steady drizzle. The kind of rain that soaked through jackets and slowed down everything — except for hearts, which, as Elliot would later write in his journal, often refused to obey the weather.

Inside the campus café, warm yellow lights flickered above shelves of pastries and chalkboard menus. Elliot sat by the window, flipping through notes for his Modern Philosophy class. His black coat hung on the chair, droplets still clinging to its hem. A half-full coffee cup steamed beside him, the label marked “Elliot - 2 Sugars” in Ava’s handwriting.

She had dropped it off minutes earlier with a smile, “You looked like you needed rescuing.”

And she was right. He had felt sluggish all morning, and her arrival had felt like sunlight piercing clouds. As she left to meet a professor, Elliot’s gaze lingered on her through the window, his heart tapping uneven rhythms in his chest.

He pulled out his notebook, flipped to a fresh page, and scrawled in the corner:

Kindness is not always love — but sometimes, it’s easy to forget the difference.

“Deep thoughts again?”

Jace’s voice broke through, pulling Elliot back to the present. The tall athlete slid into the seat across from him, hair damp from the rain, hoodie clinging slightly to his chest. He shook the water from his hands and rubbed them together, stealing a bite of Elliot’s untouched muffin without asking.

“You know those are for customers, right?” Elliot muttered.

“I’m an honorary member,” Jace smirked, chewing. “So, what’s the genius up to? More Kierkegaard nonsense?”

Elliot shut the notebook. “Modern ethics.”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “Heavy stuff. Maybe that’s why Ava always brings you coffee. Keeps your brain from combusting.”

The mention of her name made Elliot pause. He studied Jace more closely. There was a flicker in his friend’s eyes when he said Ava — a softness that hadn’t been there last year.

He tested the waters. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately.”

Jace shrugged, but a grin tugged at his lips. “She’s cool. And fun. Way better at shooting than I thought too. We played at the gym Saturday night. She landed three free throws in a row.”

“Impressive,” Elliot said neutrally.

“I mean... she gets me, you know? I can just be myself with her. No fake charm. No pressure.”

Elliot looked away, masking the sting that crept into his chest.

“You ever think...” Jace leaned forward, tapping the table. “That maybe she likes me?”

Elliot hesitated. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, for one — she texts me first. Sends me memes. Came to both of my last games. And after the last one, she hugged me. Not like a ‘good game’ hug. More like... personal.”

“She hugged both of us under the oak tree last week,” Elliot pointed out.

“Yeah, but she looked at me when she said I was her favorite,” Jace said, grinning like a boy with a secret.

Elliot forced a laugh. “Maybe you’re reading into it.”

“Maybe I’m not.” Jace leaned back, still smiling. “I mean, come on. I’ve dated girls before — I know when someone’s interested.”

Elliot’s jaw tightened. “Ava’s not one of your usual types. She deserves someone serious.”

Jace looked at him, surprised. “And you think I’m not?”

“I think... you’re used to people falling for you. Ava doesn’t just hand her heart out.”

Silence stretched between them. For a moment, it felt like the café grew quieter, the rain outside louder.

“Are you saying you like her too?” Jace finally asked.

Elliot’s fingers curled around his coffee cup. He chose his words carefully. “I’m saying she’s important to both of us. Let’s not ruin that by rushing to assumptions.”

Jace stared at him a moment longer, then gave a tight nod. “Right. Friends first.”

But the way he said it felt like a lie — or maybe a challenge.

—

Later that week, the trio met up for one of their traditions: Thursday night ramen at the corner noodle bar. The place was cramped and noisy, but it had been their spot since freshman year. Ava was already inside when the boys arrived, waving at them from their usual table.

Elliot sat across from her. Jace took the seat beside her.

As they talked about school, memes, and weekend plans, Elliot couldn’t help but notice how naturally Ava leaned into Jace’s shoulder when she laughed, how she playfully stole a piece of pork from his bowl, how she wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of his mouth without hesitation.

He also noticed the way Jace looked at her — not just as a friend, but as someone waiting for a moment to happen.

When Ava left for the restroom, Elliot turned to Jace. “You’re going to tell her, aren’t you?”

Jace met his gaze, no more teasing. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Elliot’s pulse quickened. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Jace leaned forward, serious now. “If I don’t, someone else will. I’m not gonna sit back and pretend anymore.”

Elliot looked down at his bowl, appetite gone. He knew Jace wasn’t wrong — but that didn’t make it easier.

When Ava returned, smiling and oblivious, she tucked her hair behind her ear and asked if they wanted dessert. Both boys nodded, though only one of them was truly present.

—

That night, Elliot sat in his dorm room with his journal, unable to study. Rain tapped on the window as he scribbled:

She hugged him first. She brought me coffee. She laughs with him. She remembers my stories. She touches his arm. She holds my gaze.

What if we both misunderstood everything?

What if it’s not about what she does... but how we want it to mean something?

He closed the journal and turned off the light, lying in bed with one truth he couldn’t escape.

They both liked her.

And neither of them knew what came next.