Ray's POV
"I think I'm in love."
Ava blinked. Twice. Then dropped the spoon into her instant ramen.
"No," she said flatly.
"Yes," I sing-songed, flopping face-first onto her bed, long hair spilling like a waterfall across her blanket. "And I mean the serious kind. Not like—oh-he's-hot love. I mean, like, oh-no-he-glared-some-mean-girls-into-submission-and-I-saw-god kind of love."
"You're ridiculous," she muttered, stirring her noodles with all the emotional energy of a sleep-deprived cat.
"I know, right?" I flipped over dramatically, holding a squishmallow to my chest like a love-struck Jane Austen heroine with a plushie addiction. "Like I always knew he was hot. I'm not blind. But then he went all silent protector today and Ava—it did something to me. Like, my soul? Left my body. My bones? Evaporated. I think my hair got shinier from how he looked at them. I think the grass grew back greener after he glared."
"You're having a crisis."
"I'm having a moment," I corrected, reaching for the iced coffee on her desk I brought from the vending machine. "And I think he might be my soulmate. Do you think he likes sprinkles? No, he probably hates sprinkles. That's okay. Opposites attract. He's brooding, I'm sunshine. I'll bring the glitter. He'll bring the 'shut up.' It's perfect."
"Ray," Ava said carefully, placing her ramen down, "He hasn't even said three full sentences to you."
"Correction!" I raised a finger. "He said, and I quote: 'Move.'"
She stared.
"That counts!" I insisted, flopping back again. "It was so… authoritative. He commands space, Ava. And today? He used that space to protect me. And he didn't even say anything mean after. Just glared at those girls like—like he would've murdered them if I cried."
"You did cry."
"Details."
She sighed. "Ray. Don't get your hopes up. Guys like Sebastian Ashford—"
"Don't talk to janitors. Don't drink sweet coffee. Don't like loud girls with knee-length hair and pink fluffy napkins," I finished for her.
She didn't say anything. Which was worse.
But I just smiled.
Because today?
He didn't say anything.
But he didn't walk away either.
He saw me small. He saw me not sunshine.
And he stayed.
That's what did it, I think.
That's what made me fall for him, like a fool in glitter sneakers with too many stickers on her laptop and a love language made entirely out of baked goods and chaos.
I looked over at Ava, who was trying very hard not to be worried for me.
"I know," I said quietly. "He's… cold. And scary. And doesn't like people. But today he didn't hate me. He could've, but he didn't."
Ava leaned her head on mine. "Just don't get your heart broken, okay?"
I laughed. "Too late. I already monogrammed our wedding towels in my head."
She groaned. "Ray!"
"I'm kidding," I said. Then muttered, "Mostly."