(Ava's POV)
Dada's car smells like him.
Cedarwood, leather, and danger.
The seat feels like it could transform into a jet any moment. The inside lights glow soft gold. There's a mini-fridge with sparkling water bottles I can never open, and the touchscreen thingy on the dash says something in Italian every time I touch it.
He calls it a car. I call it a spaceship that threatens people for existing.
I'm bouncing in the passenger seat, seatbelt cutting into my shoulder because I forgot to adjust it again. I grab his wrist mid-drive. "Did you actually eat or were you lying to me again like a little liar?"
Austin raises an eyebrow without looking at me. "I had coffee."
"That's not food. Coffee is bean juice. It's bean anxiety."
"Ava."
"You're a grown man and I'm a child and I'm the one worried about your vitamin intake. Did you take your supplements? The omega-3s? You know you get grumpy when your brain's dehydrated."
He presses a button and a barrier silently rises between the front and the back seats.
I gasp. "DADA! Did you just WALL me off?"
Silence.
I crawl over it.
"You forget I'm tiny and flexible."
Still no response.
I tap his shoulder, kiss his cheek again, and smile sweetly. "I brought you a cookie, remember?"
"I remember."
"I sat on it."
"I remember that too."
I grin and sit crisscross on the seat, facing him. "So! My day!"
He doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no, and in Austin-speak, that's practically begging.
"First off, I wore the new socks you bought me—the ones with little sharks. They're eating hearts. Everyone loved them. Even my teacher. Then we did group work in chem and, oh my gosh, Marcus was in my group? He's kind of annoying but not in a bad way—like a golden retriever? And he—"
His hand twitches on the steering wheel.
I blink.
Wait a minute…
Was that a flinch?
Did I just see jealousy in 4K?
I smirk. "Marcus said my handwriting's cute."
He switches lanes so hard I almost slide across the seat.
"Dada."
Silence.
"He also said I smell nice."
The car jerks again.
"AUSTIN CHEN. Are you being scary on purpose?"
"He should be scared."
"Oh my god. You're gonna murder a high schooler because he said I smell nice?"
"I'm not murdering anyone," he says flatly. "I'm just… evaluating the situation."
I laugh so hard I snort and fall sideways in the seat. "You're lucky you're hot. Otherwise, you'd be in jail."
---
At Home
We pull into the driveway of the house-that-isn't-a-house. It's a literal mansion. Marble steps. Giant carved doors. Security who bows every time I sneeze. It echoes when you talk too loud inside.
Dada gets out first. I try to open my own door and somehow slam my backpack in it. Then step on my skirt. Then drop my water bottle. Then trip over my own shoelaces.
Austin turns back, sighs, and catches me before I fall down the stairs.
Again.
"You were born to destroy gravity," he mutters, scooping me up and carrying me bridal-style into the foyer.
"I'm just testing physics, okay?!"
Inside, I run to the kitchen. "I'm going to cook for you!"
"Absolutely not."
"Too late!"
Fifteen minutes later, there's flour in my hair, something's burning, the fridge is beeping because I left it open, and I may or may not have microwaved a fork.
Austin walks in, pauses, and slowly takes the fire extinguisher off the wall.
"Go sit down."
"But I wanted to make us pancakes shaped like sharks!"
"Those sharks are on fire."
---
Later That Evening – The Boy
We're walking together—me in my oversized hoodie, him on the phone with someone who looks like they might cry through the screen—when we bump into him.
Marcus.
From chemistry.
He's cute. Freckles. Big eyes. Very Golden Retriever Who Thinks He's a Wolf energy.
"Hey, Ava," he says, and then glances at Austin. "…Sir."
I beam. "Hi! Did you survive chem today? You didn't even burn anything this time!"
"I mean… yeah. You helped a lot."
Then he says it.
He says the sentence that makes the temperature drop.
"You're really cool, you know? I—I was wondering if maybe, like, you'd wanna get boba sometime?"
Silence.
Austin's head turns slowly. Like a predator clocking prey.
Marcus swallows.
"Boba," Austin repeats.
"Y-Yeah?"
"That's what you're offering her."
"Um… yeah?"
Austin leans down slightly, voice lower, softer, more dangerous than thunder in a quiet room.
"You think I'd let someone like you near my daughter for a three-dollar cup of sugar and ice cubes?"
Marcus turns pale.
"Sir, I didn't—I wasn't—"
"She trips walking on flat ground. She burns cereal. She forgets her house keys five days a week. Do you know how many security layers she has?"
"…N-No?"
"Seven. Including me."
Marcus blinks rapidly. "So… that's a no?"
Austin smiles. Slowly.
Marcus bolts.
I turn to my dad, arms crossed. "That was dramatic."
"He touched your elbow."
"It was ACCIDENTAL."
"I saw intent."
"You're insufferable."
He looks down at me and tucks my hair behind my ear. "You're mine."
My heart softens.
I sigh. "You're lucky I love you more than I love boba."
He smirks. "That's not a high bar."