Your's, eventually

Acceptance

Some apologies are easy to make. Others require you to knock on a door, face the boy you might have accidentally hurt, and pretend your heart isn't behaving like an i***t.

By the time Gabriella reached Ethan's house, she had rehearsed her apology approximately twenty-seven times.

Twenty-seven.

She knew because she had counted.

The first version was too formal.

The second sounded as though she were apologising to a headmaster for setting fire to the chemistry laboratory.

The third involved the phrase I deeply regret the unfortunate circumstances surrounding yesterday's incident, which made her sound like a politician caught stealing money.

The fourth was simply, I'm sorry.

Too short.

The fifth was, I'm sorry Xander punched you.

That made it sound as though Xander had accidentally tripped over a shoelace and fallen into Ethan's face.

By the time she reached version twenty-seven, Gabriella had considered abandoning the entire plan, returning home, and pretending Ethan had moved to another country.

Perhaps Australia.

Australia was far enough.

She stood outside his front door, gripping the straps of her bag.

Just knock.

She raised her hand.

Stopped.

What if he's angry?

She lowered it.

Of course he's angry, Gabriella. A boy punched him in the face because of you. What exactly do you expect? A welcome party?

She raised her hand again.

Knocked.

Three times.

Then immediately regretted all three knocks.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

She almost turned around.

Then the door opened.

Ethan stood on the other side wearing a dark T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair slightly messy, as though he had been running his hands through it while doing absolutely nothing productive.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

His eyes moved briefly to the bag hanging from her shoulder.

Then back to her face.

"Well," he said. "Either I'm being visited by a very nervous girl, or my house has become the official headquarters for people who make questionable decisions."

Gabriella blinked.

"Hello to you too."

"Hello." He stepped aside. "Come in before you wear a hole in my doorstep."

She entered.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He closed the door.

For one horrifying second, Gabriella became aware of everything.

The quiet house.

The faint sound of a television coming from somewhere upstairs.

The fact that she was standing in Ethan's house again.

The fact that the last time she'd been here, they'd been sitting together at his desk, discussing kissing ethics.

And then—

No.

Absolutely not.

She was not thinking about that.

Not now.

Not when she had come here for a perfectly reasonable, mature, completely normal conversation.

Ethan glanced at her.

"You're doing it again."

She frowned. "Doing what?"

"Looking like you've just remembered something illegal."

"I do not!"

"Right. My mistake. Maybe you're remembering something embarrassing."

She stared at him.

He stared back.

Then one corner of his mouth lifted.

"That one got you."

"You're incredibly annoying."

"And yet, here you are."

Gabriella opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

She was here.

Voluntarily.

Nobody had dragged her across the city. Nobody had threatened to fail her in mathematics. Nobody had offered her a lifetime supply of chocolate.

She had come because she wanted to see him.

Because she needed to apologise.

And because, no matter how many times she told herself otherwise, she had been thinking about yesterday.

Which was precisely why she needed to leave before her brain betrayed her.

"I came to apologise," she announced.

Ethan's expression changed slightly.

Not dramatically.

He didn't suddenly become serious in the way boys in films did when the music became sad.

He simply stopped smiling quite so much.

"Okay."

Gabriella had prepared herself for sarcasm.

She had prepared herself for an insult.

She had even prepared herself for him to tell her to leave.

She had not prepared herself for a simple okay.

It somehow made the whole thing more difficult.

"Can we talk?"

"We can talk." He gestured towards the living room. "We can also sit down while we do it. I'm a big believer in having difficult conversations without making my legs suffer."

She followed him.

The living room was comfortable, with a large sofa, a television, and a few books scattered across a small table. A school notebook lay open on one end of the sofa, abandoned beside a pen.

Gabriella sat down carefully.

Ethan dropped onto the opposite end.

For a moment, neither spoke.

He picked up the remote, looked at it, and put it down again.

"So," he said. "Which part are we apologising for?"

Gabriella turned towards him.

"What?"

"The options are quite extensive. You could apologise for Xander punching me. You could apologise for bringing Xander into my life in the first place. You could apologise for the general inconvenience of knowing you."

"Ethan!"

"What? I'm helping you organise your thoughts."

"You're making this worse."

"Then let's skip the introduction and get to the part where you tell me I'm a terrible person."

"I wasn't going to say that!"

"Wonderful. Saves us both time."

She pressed her lips together.

He was doing it again.

Using jokes to make everything seem smaller than it was.

And normally, she would have found it funny.

Normally, she would have rolled her eyes and told him he needed professional help.

But today, she could see the faint mark on his face.

It wasn't particularly dramatic, but it was enough to remind her of what had happened.

Xander had hit him.

Because of her.

And she had stood there, caught between two boys, not knowing what to do.

The smile slowly disappeared from her face.

"I'm serious, Ethan."

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His expression settled.

"Okay," he said again. "I'm listening."

Gabriella looked down at her hands.

"I'm sorry."

He waited.

She swallowed.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. About Xander coming in and starting that fight. I'm sorry he hit you, and I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that because of me."

Ethan leaned back against the sofa.

For once, he didn't interrupt.

She continued before she could lose her courage.

"I should have stopped things from getting that far. I should have said something. I should have—"

"Gabriella."

She stopped.

"You didn't punch me."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"You didn't punch me. Xander did." He shrugged, though his expression remained serious. "So unless you've secretly developed superhuman abilities and started controlling people with your mind, I don't see why you're taking responsibility for his fist."

Despite herself, she almost smiled.

Almost.

"That's not what I mean."

"I know."

"I just feel responsible."

"That's unfortunate."

She frowned. "Ethan!"

"What? I'm not going to agree with you just because you look guilty enough to confess to a crime you haven't committed."

She stared at him for a moment.

Then she looked away.

"I hate when you make sense."

"Don't worry. It happens to me occasionally too. Very inconvenient."

A small laugh escaped her.

It was brief, but it was real.

Ethan's mouth twitched.

"There she is."

Gabriella's smile faded again.

"But I still should have done something."

"Maybe." He considered that for a moment. "You could've told him to stop. You could've walked away. You could've thrown a cushion at him, although I'd question your aim."

"Ethan!"

"What? I'm offering constructive suggestions for future emergencies."

She shook her head.

"You are impossible."

"That's what my teachers say."

For a few seconds, they sat in silence.

Then Ethan glanced towards the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"That wasn't a trick question."

"I said no."

"Fine. I'll get something for myself, and you'll have to sit here and listen to me enjoy it."

She gave him an incredulous look.

"You're actually so childish."

"And yet, somehow, I'm the one who managed to open the door without having a nervous breakdown."

He stood before she could reply.

Gabriella watched him disappear into the kitchen.

The moment he was gone, she let out a long breath.

She hadn't realised how tense she had been until then.

She looked around the room, trying to distract herself.

There was a framed photograph on a shelf. Ethan stood between two people who appeared to be his parents, his expression caught somewhere between a smile and the look of someone who had been forced to take the picture against his will.

She found herself smiling at it.

He looked younger in the photograph.

Less sarcastic.

Actually, no.

She suspected the sarcasm had been present since birth.

She could imagine him as a child, refusing to eat vegetables because they had personally offended him.

"You're staring at my family photograph."

Gabriella nearly jumped.

Ethan stood in the doorway holding two glasses.

"I wasn't staring!"

"You were studying it. Should I be concerned? Are you planning to write an essay about us?"

She took the glass he offered her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He sat down again.

She took a small sip.

Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she said, "I'm also sorry about the kiss."

Ethan went still for a moment.

Not completely.

He was still holding his glass. He still looked like himself.

But the teasing expression disappeared.

Gabriella immediately wished she could grab the words out of the air and shove them back into her mouth.

Excellent.

Wonderful.

She had apologised for the fight, and now she had brought up the very thing she'd been trying not to think about since arriving.

Her life was a masterpiece of poor decisions.

Ethan set his glass down.

"Okay."

She looked at him carefully.

"You're not going to make a joke?"

"I can, if you'd prefer. I've got several."

"No."

"Good. Some of them are terrible."

"Ethan."

"Right. Sorry."

He rubbed his thumb against the side of his glass.

For the first time since she'd arrived, he seemed unsure of what to do with himself.

Gabriella had seen him annoyed.

She had seen him amused.

She had seen him look at teachers as though their lessons were a personal attack against his freedom.

She had even seen him angry.

But this was different.

He wasn't looking at her.

And somehow, that made her more nervous than if he had been staring directly into her soul.

"I didn't mean to make things complicated," she said quietly.

He let out a short breath.

"Bit late for that."

She flinched.

His eyes lifted to hers.

"Sorry. That came out wrong."

"No, it's fine."

"It wasn't."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Look, Gabby. I'm not going to pretend yesterday didn't happen. It did. And I'm not going to sit here and act like it was some massive tragedy either."

She looked down at her glass.

"I don't know what to say."

"That's new."

She looked up sharply.

He gave her a faint smile.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

For a moment, the familiar banter returned.

Then his expression softened again.

"About the kiss..."

Gabriella's fingers tightened around her glass.

"Yes?"

"I kissed you."

She nodded.

"Yes."

"And you kissed me back."

Her cheeks warmed.

"I know."

"I'm just making sure we're discussing the same event. You'd be surprised how often people disagree about what happened five minutes ago."

"Ethan."

"Right. Sorry."

He looked away briefly.

"I just don't want you thinking you owe me something because of it."

She stared at him.

"I don't think that."

"Good."

"I mean, I wasn't—"

"Gabriella, you don't have to explain every single thing to me."

"But I want to."

That made him pause.

She hadn't meant to say it so quickly.

But she had.

And now the words were sitting between them.

Ethan looked at her.

She looked back.

For one brief second, neither of them seemed to know what to do.

Then Gabriella cleared her throat.

"I mean, I want you to understand."

"Right."

"Because I don't want you to think I was leading you on."

His face changed.

Only slightly.

But she noticed.

"I wasn't thinking that."

"You weren't?"

"No."

She searched his expression.

"Really?"

He gave her a look.

"Would you like me to swear on my mathematics textbook?"

She almost smiled.

"That would be ridiculous."

"Exactly. I'd rather not bring the poor thing into this."

She shook her head, but the smile didn't last.

"Ethan, I'm serious."

"So am I."

He sat back.

"I know you like Xander."

The words landed harder than she expected.

Gabriella looked away.

Of course he knew.

She had spent months making it obvious to anyone who cared to look.

She noticed when Xander entered a room.

She remembered the smallest things he said.

She could identify his footsteps in the hallway, which was both impressive and deeply embarrassing.

And whenever he smiled at her, her brain seemed to forget every language she had ever learned.

Ethan knew all of that.

He had known it long before yesterday.

"I do like him," she admitted.

Ethan nodded once.

"Yeah. I gathered that from the way you look at him like he's the last slice of pizza at a birthday party."

Her mouth fell open.

"Ethan!"

"What? It's a compliment. Pizza is important."

"That is NOT a compliment!"

"Fine. He's the last chocolate cake at a birthday party."

She stared at him.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Better?"

"No!"

"You're difficult to please."

She tried to look offended, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

Then she looked down again.

"But I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Ethan's expression grew quieter.

Gabriella took a breath.

"I've liked Xander for so long. I thought if I could just get him to notice me properly, if I could make him see that I wasn't just the girl who studied all the time, then maybe..."

She stopped.

The rest of the sentence felt foolish.

Maybe he'd like me too.

She had spent so much time building that possibility in her mind that she had almost forgotten it wasn't something she could control.

Ethan didn't interrupt.

So she continued.

"Yesterday, when you kissed me, I wasn't thinking about Xander."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Ethan looked at her.

Gabriella's heart began to pound.

She quickly added, "I mean, not at that moment. I wasn't thinking about anyone else. I was just—"

She stopped again.

Because she didn't know how to finish.

She had been there.

With Ethan.

And for those few moments, she hadn't been calculating how to make Xander jealous. She hadn't been wondering whether Xander would notice her or whether Marielle would laugh at her or whether she was doing enough to become the kind of girl Xander might choose.

She had simply been Gabriella.

And Ethan had been Ethan.

And the moment had felt different from anything she had expected.

That was the problem.

She didn't know what it meant.

"I don't know why I didn't pull away," she admitted.

Ethan looked down at his hands.

For a moment, Gabriella thought he might make a joke.

Instead, he said, "Maybe you didn't want to."

Her eyes lifted to his.

The room seemed quieter.

She swallowed.

"Maybe."

He nodded slowly.

"Okay."

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know!"

"Brilliant. We're both doing wonderfully."

She let out a nervous laugh.

He smiled a little, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Listen, Gabriella. I'm not going to tell you that you suddenly like me because you kissed me. That would be stupid."

She nodded.

"And I'm not going to tell you to stop liking Xander. I can't exactly reach into your head and rearrange things."

"Please don't. You'd probably put everything in the wrong place."

"Probably. Your brain looks like a very complicated filing system."

She gave him a look.

"You're ruining the moment."

"What moment? We're discussing your questionable filing system."

"Ethan!"

He laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound loosened something in her chest.

But then he grew quiet again.

"And I'm not going to pretend I don't care," he said.

Gabriella's smile slowly faded.

He glanced at her, then away.

"I mean, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't want to."

She held her breath.

He seemed to regret the sentence almost immediately.

"Obviously," he added, reaching for his glass. "I'm not in the habit of kissing random people as a public service."

Gabriella blinked.

Then she laughed.

"That is the worst explanation I've ever heard."

"It's the only one you're getting."

"You could just admit you wanted to kiss me."

"I just did."

"Oh."

"Try to keep up."

She shook her head, smiling despite herself.

Then the smile faded.

"Ethan..."

He looked at her.

"I don't want to hurt you."

His expression went still.

For a second, she thought she had said the wrong thing again.

Then he leaned back and looked towards the ceiling.

"Well, that's unfortunate."

She frowned.

"Why?"

"Because you've got an impressive track record of making my life difficult, and I'd hate to see you abandon your talents now."

She threw a cushion at him.

He caught it against his chest.

"Violence! In my own home!"

"You deserve it!"

"Probably."

He placed the cushion beside him.

Then he looked at her properly.

"Gabby, listen."

She quieted.

"You don't owe me feelings you don't have."

She stared at him.

He continued before she could interrupt.

"I'm not asking you to choose me. I'm not asking you to forget Xander. And I'm definitely not asking you to make some dramatic decision about your entire life because we kissed once."

She swallowed.

"Even if I kissed you back?"

"Even then."

"Even if I liked it?"

His eyes met hers.

There it was again.

That strange pause.

That feeling that the conversation had wandered somewhere neither of them had planned to go.

Ethan looked away first.

"Especially then," he said quietly. "You can like a moment without knowing what it means. Doesn't mean you have to make a whole announcement about it."

Gabriella sat very still.

For once, she didn't have a clever response.

Because he was right.

And she hated how much she appreciated that.

She had been treating the kiss like a question that required an immediate answer.

Do I like Ethan?

Do I still like Xander?

What if I like them both?

What if I don't like Ethan at all and I'm just confused?

What if I do like him and that changes everything?

Her thoughts had been running in circles so quickly that she hadn't stopped to consider something rather obvious.

She didn't need to know everything today.

She could simply admit that yesterday had happened.

That she had enjoyed it.

That she didn't understand her own reaction.

And that she wasn't ready to make promises she couldn't keep.

"I really don't know what I feel," she whispered.

Ethan nodded.

"Then don't pretend you do."

She looked at him.

He shrugged.

"Seems easier than lying to both of us."

She let out a slow breath.

"You're making this sound so simple."

"It's not simple. I'm just too lazy to make it more complicated."

She laughed softly.

"There he is."

"Who?"

"The annoying boy I know."

"Ah. Thought you'd met someone else."

She shook her head.

For a little while, they talked about other things.

School.

The project.

A teacher who had somehow managed to assign three separate tasks over a single weekend.

Ethan complained about the workload as though the school had personally declared war against him.

Gabriella corrected him when he exaggerated.

He accused her of defending the education system.

She accused him of being allergic to effort.

He told her effort was an overrated concept invented by people who enjoyed homework.

And slowly, the tension began to ease.

Not disappear.

It was still there, tucked between them.

But it no longer felt as though one wrong word would destroy everything.

At one point, Gabriella glanced at the clock.

"Oh! I should probably go."

Ethan looked at the time.

"Already?"

The question came out before he could disguise it.

Gabriella noticed.

He noticed her noticing.

Then he immediately added, "I mean, I assumed you'd be here longer. I haven't even finished complaining about my homework."

She smiled.

"Of course. Your homework deserves a proper farewell."

"It really does. We've been through a lot together."

She stood and picked up her bag.

Ethan stood too.

For a moment, they faced each other near the door.

Gabriella adjusted the strap on her shoulder.

"Thank you."

He frowned.

"For what?"

"For listening."

He looked at her as though she had said something mildly embarrassing.

"Don't make it weird."

She laughed.

"I'm trying to be sincere!"

"It's unsettling."

"Ethan!"

"Fine. You're welcome."

She smiled.

Then she hesitated.

There was something else she wanted to say.

Something she wasn't sure she had the courage to say.

She looked at him.

"Are we okay?"

The teasing disappeared from his face.

He studied her for a moment.

Then he nodded.

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Gabriella, if we weren't okay, I'd be telling you to leave."

She considered that.

"That's reassuring."

"I'm known for my comforting personality."

"You have the comforting personality of a broken chair."

"And yet you keep sitting on it."

She burst out laughing.

Ethan grinned.

"There. Much better."

She reached for the door handle, but paused.

"And Ethan?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"About yesterday..."

He waited.

She looked at him, suddenly nervous again.

"I don't regret it."

The words were quiet.

But she meant them.

Ethan didn't move.

For a second, his expression was impossible to read.

Then he looked down, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"Well," he muttered, "that's good."

Gabriella smiled.

"That's all you're going to say?"

He looked up.

"What do you want? A speech?"

"No!"

"Good. I didn't prepare one."

She laughed again.

He opened the door for her.

"Go home, Gabriella."

"You're kicking me out?"

"Absolutely. You've been here for ages, and my reputation is suffering."

"What reputation?"

"Exactly. Go before you ruin what's left of it."

She stepped outside.

Then she turned back.

He was still standing in the doorway.

For a brief moment, they simply looked at each other.

No jokes.

No teasing.

No Xander.

Just the two of them.

Gabriella wanted to say something meaningful.

Something that would explain the strange warmth in her chest.

Something that would make the entire afternoon easier to understand.

Instead, she said, "Don't forget your mathematics homework."

Ethan stared at her.

Then he slowly closed his eyes.

"That is genuinely the least romantic sentence anyone has ever said to me."

She laughed so hard she nearly missed the first step.

"Goodbye, Ethan!"

"Goodbye, Gabriella. Try not to get emotionally attached to any textbooks on your way home."

She waved at him and walked away.

He watched until she reached the end of the path.

Then he closed the door.

And leaned against it for a moment.

His smile faded slowly.

He had told her the truth.

He wasn't going to ask her to choose him.

He wasn't going to demand that she stop liking Xander.

He wasn't going to make her feel guilty for being confused.

But that didn't mean he wasn't disappointed.

He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that she might look at him differently after yesterday.

Not as a replacement for Xander.

Not as some convenient distraction.

Just as Ethan.

The boy who made her laugh when she wanted to cry.

The boy who listened when she couldn't tell anyone else what was wrong.

The boy who had started noticing things about her that he had never intended to notice.

The way she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear when she was nervous.

The way she spoke faster when she was excited about something.

The way her whole face changed whenever Xander entered a room.

That last one was particularly irritating.

He would have preferred not to notice it.

Unfortunately, his brain had apparently decided to make his life miserable.

He pushed away from the door.

"Brilliant," he muttered to himself. "Absolutely brilliant."

Then he returned to the living room, picked up his abandoned mathematics notebook, and stared at the first question.

He read it once.

Twice.

Then a third time.

He had no idea what it said.

He dropped his pen.

"Fantastic. Now I'm stupid as well."

Gabriella walked home with her bag hanging from one shoulder and her thoughts scattered in approximately twelve different directions.

She had expected the apology to be awkward.

It had been.

She had expected Ethan to tease her.

He had.

She had expected him to be angry about Xander.

He wasn't, at least not with her.

What she hadn't expected was to leave feeling lighter.

She had apologised.

They had talked.

He hadn't demanded an answer from her.

And somehow, that made everything more confusing.

Because if Ethan had been angry, she could have blamed her feelings on guilt.

If he had been cold, she could have told herself she was upset because she had lost a friend.

If he had accused her of leading him on, she could have defended herself and gone home convinced that the whole thing had been a mistake.

But he hadn't done any of those things.

He had listened.

He had made jokes.

He had admitted that he cared without turning it into a grand declaration.

And he had let her go without asking her to promise him anything.

She stopped at the corner of the street.

A car passed.

Someone across the road called to a friend.

Life continued around her, perfectly unaware that her brain had become a complete disaster.

Gabriella sighed.

"This is ridiculous."

She began walking again.

She liked Xander.

That was a fact.

A well-established, thoroughly documented, emotionally exhausting fact.

She liked his smile.

She liked the way he could make an entire room pay attention to him without appearing to try.

She liked the memories she had built around him, even if some of those memories involved her replaying a conversation from three months earlier because he had once asked whether she understood a homework question.

But Ethan—

She stopped herself.

No.

She wasn't doing this.

She wasn't going to compare them.

Xander was Xander.

Ethan was Ethan.

They were different people, and she didn't need to turn her feelings into a competition.

Still, one thought refused to leave her alone.

When she had been with Ethan yesterday, she hadn't been thinking about whether Xander was watching.

She hadn't been trying to make anyone jealous.

She hadn't been performing.

She had simply been there.

And that had felt strangely wonderful.

Which was exactly why it frightened her.

Because Gabriella knew how to chase a crush.

She knew how to admire someone from a distance.

She knew how to overthink every interaction until a perfectly ordinary conversation became a three-hour investigation.

What she didn't know how to do was stand in front of a boy who looked at her as though he actually saw her and figure out what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed.

She pulled it from her pocket.

A message from Xander appeared on the screen.

Xander: Where were you earlier?

Gabriella stared at it.

Of course.

Of course he would message her now.

She typed a reply.

Out.

She deleted it.

Too cold.

She typed again.

I had something to do.

Deleted.

Why?

She stared at that one.

It sounded suspicious.

Which was ridiculous, because she had done nothing wrong.

She finally sent:

Gabriella: Just had something to sort out. Why?

The reply came almost immediately.

Xander: Just asking. You disappeared.

She read it twice.

Then a third time.

A tiny, ridiculous spark of happiness appeared in her chest.

He had noticed.

He had noticed she was gone.

And there it was—the familiar feeling.

That little rush of excitement that had kept her chasing him for so long.

She leaned against a wall, smiling at her phone.

Then another message arrived.

Xander: Anyway, are you coming to school early tomorrow? Need help with the project.

Her smile softened.

There it was.

The reason he had messaged.

The project.

Of course.

Gabriella stared at the screen for a moment.

Then she typed:

Gabriella: Yes, I'll be there.

She sent it before she could overthink it.

A second later, another message appeared.

Xander: Great. You're a lifesaver 😂

Gabriella smiled.

She couldn't help it.

Even now, those words made her happy.

She slipped the phone into her pocket and continued walking.

She still liked Xander.

Nothing about the afternoon had magically erased that.

But for the first time, the happiness she felt from his attention wasn't the only thing occupying her mind.

Because somewhere between apologising to Ethan and walking out of his house, she had discovered something she hadn't been looking for.

She could enjoy being around someone without trying to make him choose her.

She could laugh without wondering whether she looked attractive while doing it.

She could be confused without immediately forcing herself to find answer