Adrien's POV
The first mistake I made this morning was waking up.
The second was telling Mom I had school.
"You're going where?" Ava asked, eyes wide like I'd just announced I was joining a gang.
"School, Mom. You know. That thing normal people do."
Her bottom lip quivered. "But what if you get kidnapped again?"
I blinked. "That was literally a once-in-a-lifetime serial stalker event."
"Exactly!" she wailed. "Once in a lifetime shouldn't have happened at all! You're never going anywhere again without me. I'll homeschool you. I'll hire ten private tutors. I'll sit outside the school gates with snacks!"
"I need to go," I said, shouldering my bag. "It's already been a year. People think I died."
Ava let out a strangled noise like I'd stabbed her in the heart. She dramatically flopped onto the couch.
"Don't you miss me?" she whispered, clutching a tissue like this was some kind of K-drama.
"I just ate breakfast with you. And you followed me into the bathroom while I brushed my teeth."
"I was emotional support!"
I stared at her. "You sat on the counter and made me pinky-promise not to forget your face."
She sniffled. "I have abandonment issues."
"You abandoned me at birth for ten minutes to buy a candle, and you haven't stopped bringing it up since."
"It smelled like lavender and hope!"
I groaned and headed for the door, but she followed, clutching a baggie of sliced apples and a bottle of water and—was that a laminated school map?
"Here's your lunch. And snacks. And backup snacks. And emergency chocolate in case your blood sugar drops or you get sad. And tissues for if you think about anything too much. And this—" she pressed a note into my hand, "—is a letter I wrote you during the time you were missing. Just so you know how much I love you."
"…I'm not even going to read this."
"You'll frame it when you're older," she declared tearfully.
We made it to the car. I opened the door. She opened the other door and climbed in.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm coming with you."
"Mom!"
"What? I'll just stay in the car! Like a bodyguard. Or a mom-guard. I'll wear sunglasses and eat sad croissants in the parking lot like a normal traumatized mother."
"I can't believe this is happening," I muttered, sinking into the seat.
Alex walked out just then, sipping coffee like he hadn't just seen the most chaotic mom-son breakdown of the century.
"Need help prying her off him?" he asked.
"No one asked you," Ava snapped, already reaching to buckle my seatbelt.
"I'm seventeen," I growled.
"Which means I own you until you're thirty-five," she said sweetly.
Alex smirked. "You're handling this really well."
Ava rolled down the window dramatically as we drove off. "I'LL MISS YOU, MY LOVE. MY LIFE. MY HEART. TEXT ME WHEN YOU GET THERE. TEXT ME IN TEN MINUTES. TEXT ME WHEN YOU BREATHE. I LOVE YOUUU—"
I sank lower in the seat.
I was never surviving high school after this.