Page 83 of Exes That Puck
“Baby,” he says automatically, the endearment slipping out like muscle memory. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back. Can we talk? Are you packing your stuff? Please don’t leave like this. Talk to me.”
My chest tightens reflexively from his desperate tone, the pet name, the immediate plea to talk. It’s so familiar it makes my skin crawl. I grab a box and hold it close.
“We’ll be out in ten minutes,” I say calmly.
But Willy’s not listening to me. His focus is entirely on Ava, who’s gone very still in the doorway of the bedroom.
“You read my messages wrong,” he says, voice rising slightly. “Those girls didn’t mean anything. You’re overreacting.”
I watch Ava’s resolve start to crumble. Her shoulders drop, and for a moment she looks like she might actually engage with his bullshit.
“We don’t need your version today,” I say, keeping my voice low but firm. No lecture, no scene. We’re grabbing her things and leaving.
I’m watching Ava nearly fold, and all I can think about is how many times my friends have had to pick up my pieces after fights with Zeke. How exhausting it must have been for them to keep putting me back together.
I text Zeke quickly.
Kara: Willy showed, but we’re fine. Don’t come up.
When I look up, Willy tries one more time with Ava. He reaches out to her. “Baby, please—”
Ava jerks away from his touch. “Don’t touch me.” Her voice is steady now, stronger than it’s been all day.
We finish packing in tense silence, Willy hovering nearby making occasional comments that we all ignore. When we finally leave, loaded down with boxes, Ava is shaking slightly but her head is held high.
In the stairwell, she stops and leans against the wall, breathing hard.
“I didn’t cry,” she says, half-laughing. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
“That’s huge,” I tell her, and I mean it because I would be a freaking mess. She lived with him, so I can’t imagine how much guts it takes to breakup with him.
When we reach the parking lot, Zeke’s truck is idling at the curb. He stays inside. He doesn’t storm the building or demand to know what happened with Willy. Just waits.
He gets out only when he sees us with boxes, silently helping load everything into the truck bed. No questions, no protective posturing. Ava catches my eye and mouths “thank you, girls” to both me and Brianne.
The ride back to campus is quiet, filled with a tension I can’t quite identify. Maybe it’s just the aftermath of the confrontation, or maybe it’s something else.
They drop me off at my dorm with promises to hang out soon. Zeke just waves at me with tension in his jaw. When I reach my room, Payton’s getting ready to go out.
“How was it?” she asks, applying mascara in the mirror.
“Willy showed up, but Ava handled it well.” I pause. “Did you get my text about Brianne?”
Her eyes widen. “Shit, I forgot to text back. Sorry, I was in the middle of doing something, and I completely forgot.” She’s throwing her arms around animatedly, clearly guilty.
“It’s okay,” I say, plopping on my bed and grabbing my laptop.
Her lips pull to the side, showing her teeth. “How was that?”
I shrug. “Today wasn’t about me and Zeke. Ava asked me to be there for her, so I was, and it was fine.”
Payton returns to her mirror and says, “Well, if Ava is treating you well. It’s a good sign.”
I didn’t think of it like that. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“I’m always right,” she says with a grin, then returns to her mirror for lipstick.
I open the project I’ve been avoiding all day. It’s so close to finished that I force myself to focus, typing while Payton gets ready on her side of the room.
