Chapter 5 – Ava

Riley thinks she's won.

I could see it in her eyes when I walked away—smug, amused, like she finally got under my skin.

And maybe she did.

But I'm not about to let her know that.

The way she cornered me outside the library, the way she stood too close, pushing, testing—it pissed me off. Not just because she was being her usual aggravating self, but because... because part of me didn't want to leave.

And that's the problem.

That's the whole damn problem.

I spent years making sure no one could shake me. I had to. After Chelsea, after the mess she left me in, I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone get that close again.

And yet—here Riley is.

Pushing. Pressing.

Making me want things I shouldn't.

I storm into my dorm room, dropping my bag onto the floor with a little too much force. My roommate, Lisa, glances up from her desk, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, who pissed you off this time?"

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "Guess."

Lisa snorts. "Riley."

I glare at her. "You didn't even hesitate."

"That's because it's always Riley." She stretches, leaning back in her chair. "Seriously, I think you talk about her more than anyone else."

I huff, kicking off my shoes and flopping onto my bed. "Because she's annoying."

Lisa just hums in response, tapping her pen against her notebook.

When I glance over at her, she's watching me with that look.

The one that tells me she's thinking something ridiculous.

"What?" I ask, already dreading whatever is about to come out of her mouth.

"You're obsessed with her."

I sit up immediately. "I am not."

Lisa grins. "You so are."

I grab my pillow and chuck it at her. "Shut up."

She laughs, easily dodging it. "Seriously, though. Why do you let her get to you so much?"

I hesitate.

Because I don't know the answer.

Or maybe I do, and I just don't want to admit it.

Lisa tilts her head, studying me. "You sure this isn't some weird... thing between you two?"

I scoff. "Like what?"

"You know." She wiggles her eyebrows. "Tension. Unresolved feelings. The kind of stuff that happens in bad romance movies where the main characters hate each other but secretly want to make out."

My face heats up instantly. "Lisa—what the hell?"

She cackles. "I'm just saying!"

I groan, flopping back down onto my bed, covering my face with my arm.

It's not like that.

It can't be like that.

But the problem is...

I think part of me is starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Lisa isn't entirely wrong.

The silence stretches between us, but Lisa isn't done.

She never is.

"Look, I'm just saying," she continues, tapping her pen against her knee, "there's a fine line between hate and… something else."

I groan. "I don't hate Riley."

Lisa smirks. "Exactly."

I throw my second pillow at her. She dodges again, still grinning like an idiot, and it only pisses me off more.

"You're so annoying," I mutter, rolling onto my side.

She hums, kicking her feet up onto the edge of my bed. "So is Riley. Maybe that's why you two work so well."

I don't respond to that, mostly because I don't have a good comeback.

Lisa's not wrong—Riley does get under my skin in a way no one else ever has.

But that doesn't mean anything.

Right?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the thoughts away.

I should be focusing on my coursework, or maybe trying to relax after today's disaster of a conversation with Chelsea.

But instead, my brain keeps replaying that moment outside the library.

The way Riley stepped closer.

The way she dared me to walk away.

The way I hesitated—just for a second, just long enough to wonder what would have happened if I hadn't.

Lisa's voice pulls me back to reality. "Hey, uh, speaking of disaster exes..."

I crack one eye open, my stomach already sinking at her tone.

Lisa hesitates before flipping her phone screen toward me.

And there it is.

A post from Chelsea.

A picture of her with some girl I don't recognize—curled up close, smiling, looking like she's moved on completely.

And the caption?

Some people are easy to replace.

My chest tightens.

I shouldn't care.

I don't care.

But that doesn't stop the bitter taste from rising in my throat.

Lisa must see something in my expression because she quickly locks her phone. "Okay, you know what? Screw her. She's trying to get under your skin."

I let out a slow breath. "It's fine."

"It's not fine, Ava. She's a manipulative little—"

"It's fine," I say again, more firmly this time.

Lisa doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't push it.

Instead, she crosses her arms. "You know, Riley would love to see that post. She'd have a whole speech ready about what a miserable attention-seeker Chelsea is."

I scoff. "Yeah, well, Riley isn't here, and I don't need her to fight my battles for me."

Lisa shrugs. "No, but you do need to stop letting Chelsea live rent-free in your head."

I don't answer.

Because, honestly?

I don't know how.

And maybe that's the real problem.

I sit up, pressing my palms into my thighs, trying to ignore the way my stomach twists.

Lisa watches me carefully, like she's waiting for me to crack.

I won't.

I can't.

Because if I start letting my guard down—if I start acknowledging how much Riley actually gets to me—I don't know where that leaves me.

Instead, I huff out a breath. "I'm not thinking about her."

Lisa snorts. "Which her are we talking about? Chelsea or Riley?"

I glare at her. "Chelsea. Obviously."

Lisa arches a brow like she doesn't believe me, and the worst part is... maybe I don't believe myself either.

Because while Chelsea's post should be the thing gnawing at my brain right now, it's not.

It's Riley.

Her words. Her voice. The way she had the nerve to get so close to me, as if she could see something I wasn't ready to admit.

It's Riley daring me to stay.

And me almost wanting to.

I shake my head sharply. "God, she's exhausting."

Lisa grins. "You know who else she exhausts? Herself. I swear, the girl has two settings—flirting or fighting."

I scoff. "She wasn't flirting."

Lisa smirks. "Wasn't she?"

I open my mouth to argue, but—hell, I don't even know what I'm about to say.

Because Riley doesn't flirt with me. She taunts me, she pushes, she invades my space and makes my pulse spike in ways I do not want to analyze.

And yet…

Something about today felt different.

Lisa stretches out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. "You know, if you two ever hooked up, I think the world would implode."

My entire body seizes up. "Lisa."

She cackles. "What? It's true! Can you imagine the sexual tension? Actually, you don't have to—I can already see it."

I grab a nearby notebook and chuck it at her. "Shut up."

She's still laughing when she tosses it back. "I'm just saying, maybe you should stop fighting whatever this is and just let it happen."

"There is nothing to let happen!"

Lisa hums like she doesn't believe me.

And honestly?

I don't know if I believe me either.

Because when I close my eyes, I don't see Chelsea.

I see Riley.

I see the challenge in her eyes.

I feel the way the air shifted between us.

And damn it, I hate that I can't stop thinking about it.