Page 194 of Going Viral for Christmas
Wherever she is, I need her to know I’m never going anywhere. Even if I have to camp out in a fucking treehouse again to prove it.
It’s been a few days since I left Salem.
I drink too much. Barely sleep. I haven’t written anything in days except Ava’s name in margins. Her initials on my notepads. Her scent still lives in my skin. Her voice in my head. Her smile lurks in every inch of me. And I can’t stop replaying that goddamn video Lena posted. I saved it to my phone before Matthew got it taken down. She’s posted a bazillion more. I’m told her cease and desist letter is coming.
I keep hoping I’ll hear a knock. Ava will show up. Coffee in hand. Eyes apologizing for everything before her mouth even speaks.
But the door doesn’t knock. The texts don’t ping. The world keeps turning without her. All I can do is watch from a distance and hope?—
Hope she’s okay.
Hope she knows I’m not mad.
Hope she believes in us enough to come back.
Wherever she is… I miss the hell out of my girlfriend. Even if the whole damn internet thinks she never was.
At 3:14 a.m., I decide to text Emily. She messages back three hours later.
Hey. I know you told Fisher you hadn’t heard from her. Just checking again. Anything?
Nothing. I’m so sorry. I’ve called. I’ve emailed. I’ve even reached out to people she knows in Boston. In case they’ve heard anything. But it’s total radio silence.
She doesn’t have her cards. No ID. How would she even travel?
I don’t know. But if anyone could disappear like a ninja librarian, it’s Ava Bell.
I stare at those words—a ninja librarian. They’re so Ava, it makes my chest ache. She left her life mid-sentence. No punctuation. Or goodbye. Just an ellipsis and a vanishing act.
I’m still here—flipping pages, rereading every chapter of us, praying the story’s not over. I don’t want another book. I don’t want another heroine.
I wanther.
My chaos. My calm. My comet that set my whole sky on fire.
If this story has to wait—if she needs more time before she can come back to me—I’ll wait.
Every chapter. Every page.
Until she writes her way home.
Please let me know if you hear from her.
I will, Soren.
Bells,
Know one thing: I’m not mad. Not even close. I’m hurting, yeah. The pain inside chews straight through bone. But anger? No. I couldn’t be angry at you for protecting your heart the only way you know how.
I get it. I do.
But I miss you.
I miss your laugh and how it bubbles up when you least expect it. I miss the way your eyes dart around like you’re always ten steps ahead, even when you’re pretending you’re not. I miss the warmth you bring to every cold corner of my life.
I need YOU, Ava.
I need the woman who snorts a little when she laughs too hard. The onewho builds pillow forts and hides inside stories when the real world claws at her too sharply. The one who trusted me—piece by trembling piece—with her heart.
