~Ava
Morning came too bright, too quiet.
Enzo still wasn’t back, he sent some cryptic text at 3 a.m. about Adrian “falling apart” and needing the night. I woke up sore, pissed, and restless.
I rolled into campus late, hoodie up, coffee in hand, ready to ghost the day.
Martha was waiting outside Scott Hall like a storm cloud with lip gloss.
She marched straight up to me, eyes red, voice shaking with rage.
“If you posted that video, I swear to God, Ava…”
I sipped my coffee, slow.
“Video?” I asked, all fake innocence. “You mean the one where your bare ass is bent over Hartman’s desk? Nah. I blurred your face, I didn't know who else made a video of you both. You’re welcome.”
Her mouth opened, closed. A couple of people nearby slowed down, sensing drama.
“I know it was you,” she hiss
