Trespassing

Ava's POV

I ate the cooked broccoli slowly. For once I didn't chew my own lip, I usually did it because I tried to chew and swallow at lightning speed. Tonight it was different. My mind wasn't in the right place. It was up floating in the clouds. Everything flashed back to this afternoon in my car, with Thomas. I couldn't understand what was going on. I was feeling all gooey around a boy I was supposed to detest. Every single time I glimpsed into his eyes I melted, every time we touched sparks ignited throughout my whole body. It was unlike anything I ever felt before. It was so… stupid. I was being an idiot, behaving like a… like a…

"How's school, honey?" I lifted my head on cue, catching my Mother's eyes on me.

"A… good, it's been good." I lied easily.

My Father sat on the opposite end of my Mom. He was serving himself some more water, before he too joined my Mother in the weekly interrogation.

"That's good to know, munchkin." I tried not to make a face, mainly because my Dad was the only one who still seemed to have a shred of humanity left and tried to show it by calling me 'munchkin'. I heard Mom cough softly; she didn't like it that he treated me like a child. "Any friends?" He ignored my Mother's subtle scold directing a tiny smile at her that made her back down.

It was nice to see my parents getting along after twenty-years of marriage but at what expanse? Mine. I did this to keep the remains of our family together. Since I held responsibility for my sister's death this was all I could do, the only way I could make up to them…

"I met Valerie." I crossed my fingers praying that my Mom didn't ask for—

"Valerie what?" Her last name…

"Valerie Monet." I stabbed a piece of steak.

My Mother's eyes brightened.

"Doesn't her Father own a hotel chain here in New York?"

"Yeah, she's that Valerie." I nodded picking up my chewing pace. Thomas and everything he made me feel already forgotten. "She's in my geography class."

"Did she see your picture?"

"Yup, she was psyched about it." I put some fake glee behind the words just to get my Mom's joy and pride going.

"What about classes?"

"Forget about that, what about boys? Anyone interesting?" My fork made a terrible scratching noise when I missed the piece of tomato.

I could get through this. My Mom asked me this type of questions all the time, I could do this. I just had to lie and say no, or that I hadn't paid attention yet because I was fitting in—I just couldn't breathe a word about Thomas.

I could feel a fair amount of heat gathering in my face, soon sweat was going to drip. I was sure.

"No," I shrugged dragging my food around the plate. "I haven't paid much attention. I've been trying to situate myself, getting to know how things work and doing catch up in some classes… English mostly." I turned to my Dad who actually cared about my grades—unlike my bored, materialist Mother. "We're analyzing Paradise Lost."

"Really, not even one boy?" Mom pressed taking a piece of carrot into her mouth, her mute grass eyes glimpsed at me, then the room, like it was a completely innocent question.

With a tiny bit of hesitance rising, I pushed out, "Yes, not a single guy has called out my attention." I brightened my poker face with a sly, sugary smile.

By the end of our dinner I wasn't listening to the conversation my parents were having, they could be talking about the weirdest thing or just about the weather, I wouldn't know. I was done and about to get up, taking my plate to the washer—

"Ava?" My Father's voice made me stop mid-motion; I sat back down once I saw a glance mixed with concern and sternness. "How's therapy going?" There it was, the pink elephant in the room.

My Mom's short hair seemed to jump from her head like a cartoon. My Dad couldn't have brought up a more delightful topic. As long as I went to the session and behaved well, like before I got into my older sister's old bedroom trashing it, all was fine. Mentioning therapy only reminded my Mom of what I had done.

"Super, it's been super. Ms. Coleman is an excellent professional." I think what she was doing with me and Trip broke lots of patient and doctor confidentiality, along with other ethic rules I couldn't begin to name. "Can I get up, now? I promised Marcy I would call today." It was a lie—well I had promised I'd call her, but I wouldn't do it at this time of night, maybe tomorrow.

"Go honey, go chat with your friend." My Mom shooed me so she wouldn't have to talk about my crazy-issues. I wasn't complaining about that.

I placed my dish, cup and silver wear in the washer, silently, keeping my lips sealed. I didn't want to say another word about my time at the shrink. As soon as possible, I skipped up the stairs locking myself in my room. I sat on the queen bed, shoulders hunched and face pinched in deep thought. I needed something to get my mind off the bad stuff, something to remind me who I'd been once upon a time, who I still longed to be within myself.

I knelt on the floor reaching a hand under the bed, feeling around a bit I gripped a carton box. My throat dried out as I lifted my eyes to the window, yelping in complete fear. Half way through it I clamped my hand over my mouth. The box landed with a deaf thud letting out the contents, they scattered all across the floor. Aw man…and now I sounded like a total boy. Great.

Was I really starting to see things now? Kids saw monsters under their beds or in their closets. Me? I was beginning to see a yummy, orgasmic-looking guy outside my window—ah, pause, rewind and think. Did I really think just the sight of Thomas was orgasmic? Maybe I was screwed and needed therapy after all… I jumped five feet in the air when a tap came from my window. Oh. I glanced to it, he was actually there, or his vision-self was. Though, it had to be him, that smirk was unique. Fisting my hands for a moment, I walked carefully so I wouldn't step on anything. Unlatching the window I pulled it up. His face inched closer, eyes sparkling all the while.

"You scared the bejesus out of me!" I hissed with an accusing glare.

With a snicker, Thomas pushed his head forward, I pulled back fast almost toppling over myself.

"Cute," I heard him chuckle.

"Hey, hey!" I whispered waving my hands in front of him, it was no use he'd already hopped into my bedroom.

"What the heck are you doing here?" I asked the most logical question. Even if I had others, like, how did you get up here? Or, how did you know this was my room? But the most haunting one was: what was he doing here at eleven o'clock at night!

"After what happened in your car—"

"Nothing happened!" I whispered with a high pitched voice.

"Have it your way, after nothing happened in your car this afternoon I couldn't get you out of my head." I must have looked like a brainless moron. "I have no idea why either, I mean, you definitely aren't the nicest girl in my life… I think I'm a martyr or something."

I rolled my eyes. He was kidding… good, I almost lost it there.

"Are you serious?" When I placed my hands on my hips I cringed inwardly. I was wearing a pair of slacks, complete with a worn T-shirt—and damn, damn, damn! Where was one of my mega-sized jackets? I had to put one on urgently… I wasn't wearing a bra. I wasn't wearing a bra and Thomas Harrington was standing there in my room… looking at me. I think I leaped over my bed once I spotted my favorite baggy jacket hanging in the open closet. I must have looked beautiful doing it, too. I zipped it almost all the way.

"And you call me superstar." He joked going over the repeated pattern of my jacket. All the background was red, and then there were the white stars in different sizes all around. "Look at you all normal-looking."

"Is this why you came here?"

"To see how you sleep at night?" He pretended to be ignorant; I wasn't going to humor him.

"No, dick, to tick me off—is that why?" Why did I feel lousy for wearing my house-clothes? I was in my home. He was the intruder.

Thomas cocked his head some, taking a step forward—

"Stop!" I hissed commandingly. To my surprise Trip behaved like a soldier, stopping and even looking down.

"I didn't see them." He nodded to the photographs that had spilled to the floor after the scare he'd given me. "I didn't step on them. Honest," he went around them, not able to avoid stealing a few curious glances at them.

"Yeah, because I told you to stop…" I muttered softly keeping my eyes off him as much as possible until nothing could be done and he was blocking my view of anything else. "What do you want? Do you have any idea what happens if my parents catch you here? I'm dead." Maybe not for the reasons he thought, but I'd be dead. My life would be an official train wreck if Mom knew of Thomas existence in my life.

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, my eyes eased up on the furtive glare as I recalled his fingers on me. I got the urge to shift closer.

"I wanted to ask you something," I kept my arms crossed. "Can I sleep here tonight?" Okay. I was so not prepared for that.

"Are you… kidding?" I asked with a continuous widening of my eyes.

"Does it look like I am?" Ah… no, I couldn't say so. "Just let me crash here tonight."

"Wh-what…?" I shook my head still baffled, trying to gather my thoughts. "No, why the hell would I do that? You have a bedroom of your own, a suite actually, at your house. What's wrong with sleeping there, where you should be right now instead of here… in my bedroom… at night…" Inches away from me and smelling incredible—what the freak was up with me? "No, no. Huh-uh, go home." I gripped his arms turning him around, pushing back to the window until I couldn't push—at least not without making a big effort.

Thomas spun around watching me huff out a breath from exerting myself. He was obviously stronger than me. Judging by the muscles in his back and arms…

"Look, just let me stay the night. I'll be gone in the morning no one will ever know. I swear."

"Why?" I found myself asking. "Why do you need a place to crash—what happened?" Was that note in my voice concern? Yup, as much as I hated to admit it, it was.

"I got kicked out." Okay. So my mind was sort of blown away by that.

"Permanently?"

Thomas didn't look very rattled with the question, honestly, he looked sad when he said:

"No, just for the night." Seriously, what was up with him and his house? Why didn't he want to go home? It had been the same thing this afternoon.

"What did you do?"

He made an agonizing face.

"I didn't eat my vegetables." I was going to slap him. Again.

"Thomas," I deadpanned, worry washing away. "Can you try and act serious?"

He sighed out looking the most frustrated I'd ever seen him.

"Are you going to let me stay or not?"

I ground my teeth together. This shouldn't be a hard call to make. There shouldn't be a choice, I should send him packing. It was the right thing to do. It wasn't because of who he was, or what could happen if my Mom broke down the door—which didn't seem likely to happen—it was about the way Thomas made me feel, how he made me act. Around him I was like a spring. I could go either bad or good. But no matter which side of the track I fell to, I seemed to end up happy.

"Why don't you stay at Finn's?"

"I don't know where he lives." He said like it was obvious.

"But you have a cell phone with his number, right?" Even I didn't want him to call someone at this time of night, though. "What about your car, just sleep there."

"Do you really want me to sleep in a SUV?" He scoffed when I tapped a finger on my crossed arm.

I should send him away… but I just couldn't. He was the only shred of happiness I had in a long while, no matter how strange and unacceptable it seemed.

"Fine, stay. Only tonight and don't make a noise." I warned with a stern finger pointing at his grinning face. Could I take back what I just sentenced myself with? No, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"How did you get up here?" I asked crouching to the lowest shelf of my closet, pulling out a blue blanket that matched the deep blue of my bedroom walls.

"I climbed the tree outside your window then jumped to the roof. Easy." Easy? I would have broken a leg doing that.

"What if this hadn't been my bedroom?" I threw the blanket onto bed.

"I checked from a distance." He shrugged. "When I was climbing the tree."

"Peeping Tom," he graced me with a cute smirk. "You're not going to tell me what happened?"

"I already told you—"

"If you talk about vegetables again I'll jam a pencil into your eye." I warned, sick of anything green.

Thomas gave a scrunch to his eyebrows.

"You suffer from rage blackouts, don't you?" I tilted my head grabbing a number two pencil from my desk, holding it up. I watched him press his lips together. "On the other hand, you're the sanest person I ever met."

I hid a smirk, "Good choice." I tossed the pencil behind me.

I knew I locked the door when I came in, I double checked it anyway. I couldn't risk them coming in here, it wasn't usual, but it could happen.

"Who's this?" I whipped around to see what he was talking about and shit… I had completely forgotten about the fallen photos. The same ones he was picking up and gazing at.

"Who said you could look at those?" I slapped his hand.

Trip handed them over without a question.

"Was that really necessary?" I gave him a glare that read 'yes'. Thomas sat on the edge of my bed. "You're violent." Only with him… and maybe with my sister's bedroom. "Who is that anyway? She looks like you." He ended the phrase abruptly like he'd planned on saying more but got skittish. That was new.

Tracing over the photograph from three years ago, I felt heartache taking over. Any emotions directed at Thomas vanished; it was like he wasn't in the room anymore. All I felt now was a pressure in my chest; my heart was pumping strongly, heatedly. Was I having the starts of a panic attack? I had them after Mia passed away. Lindsey was at my side then, she helped me through them. My Mom couldn't be bothered to acknowledge my existence; my Father submersed himself in work… I was all alone when Lindsey went to France. Not much later, my life was ripped away like it never meant anything at all. It was all about Mia. Sometimes I wondered what if I'd been the one who got shot? Would they miss me as much as they did my sister? Enough to strip away everything she worked for, dreamed of, aspired? They'd done it to me. I allowed it because of my guilty consciousness. Because if it wasn't for me Mia wouldn't have gone—

"You stumbled." Was all I heard when Thomas' strong hands grasped my forearms. One minute he'd been sitting on bed, the next, he was up keeping me from falling on my butt. It wasn't the first time. "Something wrong?" He wasn't touching my skin and it still felt harder to breathe. Yes, something was really out of hand.

"She's my older sister." I said while taking a step back, maintaining a healthy distance. I didn't trust myself around him, not when my body reacted in the strangest ways.

Thomas' eyes flickered to the photo in my hand.

"You never told me you had a sister." Like I had the obligation to? Please, he wasn't telling me why he couldn't go to his own house.

"I know," I picked up the rest of the photos placing them back in the box. "She died, that's why I didn't… bring it up." I pushed a wayward strand behind my ear looking for the box's lid.

I didn't want to look at Thomas and see pity. Everyone gave me and my parents the same look, the big saddened eyes, the uneasy curve of lips… I didn't need it.

Trip's POV

"I'm sorry," I hung back a bit, feeling misplaced. I never lost anyone important to me—sure my grandparents died but I was a kid, I didn't spend much time with them. I didn't know how to deal with this stuff. "What…" I hesitated. "What was her name?"

"Mia," Ava breathed getting up, taking the box of memories to her desk. "She would be twenty years old this year." She murmured not looking at me. I watched as she sat down at her desk logging into her laptop.

I hovered behind her quietly. Each time Ava popped up in my mind I got hot chills, my stomach twisted into knots. It sounded horrible, didn't it? I loved it. This afternoon in her car had been a rush. I couldn't wipe the feel of her soft skin from my memory. It was all I could think about—oh, and her smile. That sunshine-smile she rained down on me every once in a while… the rarity of it made it even more special. That's why I came here when I found out I couldn't stay home. She was a beacon for me, I couldn't understand why yet, because we fought most of the time. And she ended up hitting me, I still came to her.

This thing about her having a sister—a dead sister—came as a total surprise. Although I wasn't sure if I wanted to trudge into that territory, I could see it bothered her. So maybe if she talked about it, it would make her feel better? Or maybe she'd hate me…? Yeah, I was on uncharted territory here.

"I guess you're the one who looks like her." I shoved my hands into my pockets, while my eyes spied around the blue bedroom. I was glad it wasn't pink... There wasn't a response from her, she seemed totally focused on whatever she was surfing. "Was her hair straight or wavy like yours?"

That did it. I wasn't easily scared, so when she turned her head to me all of a sudden, I didn't show any reaction.

"How… how do you know my hair's not straight?"

How self-absorbed did she think I was? I noticed things about others, probably more than they noticed about me.

"Duh, I have eyes, don't I?" On cue her chocolaty irises glued onto mine. I shivered, a feeling I couldn't discern grasped at my heart—what was that look Ava was giving me, giving my eyes? It was like... like—she turned away before I could find the right word, damn. "When we met for the first time in my house I saw the tips were wavy, and at the bar you had a pony tail but I saw it—now that I think about it, you always catch your hair when its wavy. Why do you do that? Scratch that, why do you straighten it? It looks boring."

"Really?" She sounded incredulous, taken aback, admired—it wasn't every day I got those reactions from her. It was nice to see her drop her guard a little, and see she wasn't the only one surprising me. I could do it, too.

"Yeah," I sat on the floor by her desk chair. "Wavy hairs are wilder, sexier—"

"Shouldn't you have wavy hair, then?" An easy-going smirk began to spread on her lips.

I grinned right back.

"Why, Ava, are you calling me sexy?" She'd walked right into that one.

"You're insufferable." Ava gritted nudging my side with one of her socked feet.

"Aw, your socks have little red apples on them." I cooed and she ran a hand up and down her face. "I won't tell at school—Valerie won't know a thing." She peaked a look at me.

"I don't like being friends with her..." I watched the shy smile I had worked for, completely disappear. I wanted to hit whoever was responsible for it—her parents, Valerie—I'd even go after the Pope if I found out he had something to do with her unhappiness.

"Then why are you?" Even though I already knew the answer...

"My Mom wants me to have popular friends." Ava began lowering the lid off her laptop; she looked at me from her comfy chair. "At my old school that was all they were—popular people in high school, outside they were normalish. At this school... everyone is popular in and outside."

"Not all." I murmured. There were people who struggled to pay for their kids to attend—maybe like her parents, I didn't know. Or kids like Finn who got scholarships. "But most of us, yeah," I was included in the group there was no escaping the rich-kid label.

"I really don't like high class. I don't like the spotlight and... being friends with Valerie pushes me into that world—the more contacts I make in your world the worst." I understood all too well the spotlight. But what was wrong with having contacts in my world, like she put it? "I don't like being a model," yes, she'd already told me that—more like yelled, but who cared how she did it? What mattered was that she got it out. "The more I hang with important people, the greedier my Mom's going to get. Don't get me wrong, she's already hell-bent on making a super-model but if I meet important people in that circle her hopes will sky-rocket." Hmm, made sense. "I'd be stuck modeling if that ever happened. My life would be officially over..." She let out a short, pained sigh.

I nibbled at my bottom lip. I liked that she was trusting me with her problems, that was the whole reason for us seeing each other, but I didn't like to see her so sad. I liked to see her smile—I liked to make her smile.

"Let's play a game."

"No," she lifted the laptop lid immediately, ignoring me forcefully.

"If I promise the game's really quiet will you play?"

"Hum, no."

I almost hung my head.

"Pretty please?"

"No, go to sleep."

"It's midnight on a Friday night—we shouldn't even be home."

"You've got me beaten there. Since only one of us is home. The other's just invading private property." She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. I knew she was going to cave in. "Will you promise to leave me alone afterwards?"

"Do you want me to lie?" She rolled her eyes, but I knew she was convinced. "Do you have a hat?" She furrowed her eyebrows while nodding. "How about a stack of cards?"

"Yeah... around here somewhere." I watched her get up. Her slacks were baggy but I imagined her curvy legs underneath. "Staring at my legs again?" She called over her shoulder while rummaging in the top shelf of her closet.

"I can't make anything out."

"I'm sure you have plenty of imagination." That one took me by surprise. Why wasn't she slapping me? Oh, well. I could live with this. "Not that I'm giving you permission to imagine anything." Bummer... then again, she didn't know what I was thinking. "Catch," I glanced up a second too late and a hat bashed me in the face. There was a covered-up giggle.

"Very funny," I mocked a few laughs until she shushed me. "Sorry, my bad," she was really concerned about her parents finding me here, huh? Well if they came knocking I'd just climb outside to the roof and wait. "Where's the deck?" I admired the dark stylish hat in my hands for a little while.

"Here," she huffed sitting in front of me, reclining her back against the side of her bed. "What's with you and cards?"

I shrugged. I walked to the bedroom door and a hand lifted, her mouth parted like she was about to say something to me. I just set the hat on the floor before trudging back to her side.

"We're going to toss the cards inside, aren't we?" Ava side-glanced me a little smugly.

"Yup," I took the cards from her, placing them in our middle. "One of us misses and—"

"We have to answer a question?"

"Actually, moments," a cute little frown showed up—Bambi was making its appearance. A hot wave shot from the depths of my stomach when her eyelashes batted, it made my tongue knot-up for a second. "If a card ends up outside the hat we have to share moments—like happy stuff, embarrassing—"

"Okay, I get it... why am I even agreeing to this?" Ava eyed a card before lifting her eyes to the black hat.

"Because you don't want go to bed, and you don't have anything better to do."

"Huh, that's not true."

I hid my chuckles swiftly, preparing to launch my first card—when I got jabbed in the side.

"Hey, that's just not fair. I missed the shot."

"Well too bad." She smirked leaning her head on the side of bed. "You owe me a moment." Great... I wasn't planning on sharing anything in the first round. My aim was good. I should probably keep it that way if I hoped to join any sports team in College—the gym wouldn't help with that though. "An embarrassing moment," I blinked my eyes coming back to Earth, guess I zoned out. "Tell me an embarrassing moment."

"Oh," I had plenty of those. Not that I wanted to share them—not the first one, or the second one. Those were the things I tried to bury and forget that ever happened, although number one kept on happening and was basically the reason of me hiding out tonight. "You had to go to those, didn't you?"

"I want to laugh a little."

"I could always tickle you." I waggled my eyebrows, edging my hands closer to her. She smiled her sunshine-smile and I couldn't keep one off my face. "Okay, I got one. The first time I smoked—"

"You smoke?"

"Not cigarettes, pot—"

"You smoke pot?" Ava grew paler, I refused to laugh.

"Not regularly, I'm not a stoner—but sometimes." I shrugged. "Everyone does it once..." I graced at her with a shake of my head when she bit her lip. "I can't believe you never smoked pot."

She scoffed.

"I enjoy preserving my brain cells, thanks."

"Whatever," I sighed. "Like I was saying, the first time I smoked a joint it was a total disaster. Everyone kept telling me how to take a drag the right way—like, you have to pull the smoke into your mouth, then you have to inhale through your nose to make sure it gets to your lungs. I kept pulling and pulling and after five or six tries I was the only one who wasn't high." I shook my head with a silly smile remembering the insults that hadn't made sense. "I pulled, then coughed it all up... it was like I was choking." Ava hit my shoulder with a run-away grin.

I jostled her a little before she pitched the card—she gave me a push right back when the card floated to the floor.

"That was so your fault."

"Doesn't matter," I inched toward her. "Your turn to share something you wish you could forget."

"Hmm," she muttered picking at her baggy jacket. "This once my Dad dropped me off at school and it was raining, so, when I got out of my Dad's car I ran all the way to the entrance because I was getting wet... I was about to slow down when I totally slipped falling on my butt. My backpack went flying, papers were everywhere, notebooks... and everyone was laughing at me." I didn't laugh. It was embarrassing but it didn't sound funny, she could have gotten really hurt. My hand inched towards hers without me even thinking about it. "My Dad was into the school's spirit, 'cuz when I got home he was telling my Mom and sister—laughing about it." I had a feeling I was going to hold a grudge. Who laughed at their kid's misfortune? Well, my Mom did worse things, but she was the devil incarnated. But Ava's Father? How could such a great girl like her come from such awful parents?

"Their douche-bags," she lifted her eyes to mine. "I'm including your Dad." She burst out laughing, I would've joined her but... there was the parents' coming-to-knock-on-the-door-issue. Ava pressed her forehead onto her knees, turning her head to me. "I wouldn't have laughed." I added before the moment passed.

She grew aware of our hands grazing each other. Hers slipped away.

"I should... go to sleep." She said slipping our gazes apart. "We should go to sleep."

"We just started playing." She got up not listening, in less than a minute the hat and deck were gone from view, tucked away into their places. "What's wrong?" I asked meeting her by the closet.

Ava took a step into its door.

"Nothing," she breathed out, arms at her sides looking completely and utterly paralyzed—it only got worse when I took a step forward—a gentle hand pressed into chest, stopping me from getting closer. "Wow, do you grill cheese on this thing?" I forgot to breathe for a minute there.

"I prefer frying eggs." I cheekily said. A blush crept into her cheeks, resulting in her hand dropping from my abs. "So, bed?" I jerked my head in its direction, putting some breathing distance between us. "Which side are you on?" I asked over my shoulder.

Like the fighting Ava had awakened all of a sudden, she eye-balled me.

"On the floor," She pointed to the spot where we'd been sitting. The menace in her eyes told me not to fight on the sleeping arrangements.

I tossed my Converse under the desk, holding my hands up.

"Alright, alright—on the floor it is." I mumbled pulling off my T-shirt. I shook my hazel hair. When I undid my jeans I saw Ava turn around. "I'm not going to strip naked, you can look."

"Who says I want to look at anything you have to show?" Did she have amnesia?

"Whatever," I whispered not wanting to end a moderately-progressive day with her in a fight. "Can I at least get a pillow?" I asked looking down at her carpeted floor. This once I caught the flying object.

"Here," she handed me a blue blanket.

I nodded lying down. It wasn't the comfiest place, but I slept in worse. My eyes were closed, I heard her click the lights off, the unzipping of the jacket. Rustling of sheets came soon after. I tossed around just to settle on my back ten minutes later, eyes slipping open. To my surprise there was a faint light coming from behind me, from the bedside table. I saw a nightlight on—it was a carousel, horses went up and down, the shadow show was projected onto the walls. How hadn't I noticed that before? It must've been from when she was a kid. Some things were hard to let go of. My eyes drifted to the bed, I was right beside it but since Ava was probably sleeping in the middle, or all the way on the other end, I couldn't see any of her. What I wanted to see was her face, though. Placing an arm behind my head, I closed my eyes for a second time.

Ava's POV

I couldn't sleep. An hour had flown by since everything went quiet in my bedroom and I couldn't get my beauty sleep, like Mom said. I didn't dare make a move, either. I was scared something would happen—that something would change when I did. But… there was nothing in my room… nothing but me and a millionaire-seventeen-year-old who was partnered with me in therapy, was my new tutor and apparently got me to say 'yes' on the stupidest of things—oh yeah, let's not forget the heart-racing moments he caused me. That couldn't be good for my health.

The slip-up I did, when I said what I said about his chest… what was I thinking? He does have some hardcore abs… I wonder what he does to keep in shape? Oh, it was happening again. My thoughts were all converging in one person—Thomas—Thomas and his amazing body.

I wanted to cover my face with a pillow, choke those poisonous ideas to death. I couldn't be feeling like this for him. I knew what friendship felt like and this—this wasn't it. I think, or maybe I'd been friendless for so long that I'd forgotten. No, who was I kidding? No other guy had ever sent me into overdrive with just their touch, and his voice… it was the kind of voice you'd want to hear just before falling asleep, whispering in your ear. Suddenly I was stricken by a flare of jealousy, I didn't know why. It just happened. Just as quickly as it happened it vanished. Freaking God, Harrington was driving me insane! Maybe I would need a shrink, but not for my issues with my parents or Mia…

I moved tentatively, a leg then an arm. Nothing changed, the bedroom was quiet. The light from the carousel was enough to see well. I tapped my fingers on the covers each time I stopped moving, listening for any change, any little noise. I slithered to the edge of bed, the one where I could look down and see him. Was he asleep or pretending?

Thomas was sleeping. There was no way he could fake that. He was looking so peaceful I thought he wasn't alive, that he wasn't human like me and every other person on this blue planet. One arm was thrown back, almost behind his head. Serene face, ridden of pressure lines of any kind. His honey hair was tossed away from his handsome cut face, all except for a stray lock. I should have known better, I shouldn't have reached out… I did. I wiped the hazel lock back—grazing his forehead in the process. A sapphire shimmered up at me. He blinked softly, taking his time.

"You okay?" The husky tone was deeper due the sleep, it sounded even sexier, though.

As he continued to look up I wondered what to say. What should I say? Did he think I was just watching him sleep? I hoped not.

"I can't sleep…" It slipped out as a raspy whisper; I'd been quiet for so long it didn't surprise me. "Sorry I woke you up." Gazing at him sleeping so blissfully… I couldn't have made a better choice if I went back in time I would still allow him to stay the night.

I don't know what it was, maybe he was too sleepy to know what he was doing, maybe not, but he moved the arm from under his head and soon, I was having one of those heart-skipping-beats moment. He laced our fingers together gently. Thomas gazed right into my eyes as he did it.

"Thank you," he murmured. He didn't say anything else, he didn't need too. I knew he was talking about spending the night.

Our eyes dropped, I couldn't tell whose closed first, but I do know that our fingers didn't come undone, at least up until I fell asleep.