Sebastian's POV
—
I didn't plan to snap.
I'd actually told myself to keep it together. Stay calm. Let her come to me when she was ready.
Except Ray Lin doesn't do ready. She does loud, impulsive, dramatic. She throws herself into things—literally and emotionally—and somehow the whole world adjusts around her.
But now?
Now she won't even look at me.
So when class ended and she zipped up her bubblegum-pink backpack and made a beeline for the door—without one glance in my direction—I followed her.
"Ava, wait for me—!" she called down the hall.
"Ray."
She kept walking.
"Ray."
Nothing. She was about to turn the corner. About to disappear again.
I snapped.
"Ray!" I said sharply, louder, voice slicing through the corridor.
She froze mid-step. Her back tensed.
Then she turned around slowly. No smile. No sparkle. Just raised eyebrows and a shrug.
"What?"
"What?" I repeated, disbelieving. "That's all I get? After everything—'what?'"
Her mouth twitched like she wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't have the energy. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sebastian."
Oh.
Full name.
"Don't pull that," I muttered, walking up to her. "You've been ignoring me for two days."
She turned her head to the side. "I've been busy."
"You talk to Austin."
"He's funny."
"You talk to Ava."
"She's my best friend."
"You talk to strangers. Janitors. Trees."
Her eyes narrowed. "What's your point?"
"My point is," I stepped closer, "you talk to everyone but me."
Silence.
The hallway echoed with the sound of some freshman dropping their books at the other end.
She shifted her weight. Crossed her arms. "Well maybe I finally got the message."
"What message?"
"That I don't matter."
My chest tightened. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You smiled at her."
"What?"
"You. Smiled. At that girl," she said, voice cracking just a little. "I've never seen you smile like that. Not for me. Not once."
"Ray," I exhaled, "that wasn't a real smile."
She laughed bitterly. "Oh, great. So you fake smile for other people, and I don't even get that?"
"Ray, I don't smile at you because I don't have to fake it." I said, louder than I meant to.
She blinked.
"I don't know how to act normal around you," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "I'm not used to… this."
"This what?"
"You. Us. Whatever this is. You make things complicated."
Her face crumbled just a little. "Sorry I complicated your life."
I wanted to scream. "That's not what I meant."
She turned to walk away again.
So I grabbed her wrist—not hard, just enough to stop her.
"Ray," I said quietly. "Talk to me. Please."
That broke her.
She spun around, eyes wide and glassy. "I was scared, okay? I saw you with her and it hit me—I'm not like those girls. I trip over air, I wear glitter on purpose, I bring you coffee with too much marshmallow fluff and I talk too damn much and I know I'm too much sometimes—"
"You're not too much," I said firmly.
"You don't even like sweet things!"
"I drink your ridiculous coffee every day."
"You don't like hugs!"
"I catch you every time you throw yourself at me."
"You don't like loud people!"
"I listen when it's you."
Silence.
She was breathing hard. Her face was flushed.
I took a step closer. "You don't scare me, Ray."
She looked up. "You don't hate me?"
"I think I might be in love with you."
The look on her face? I'd never seen anything brighter.
Not even the way she smiled when she talked to the janitor.
And finally—finally—she was looking at me again.