Chapter 74: Even I Have a Limit
Monday mornings sucked. That wasn’t up for debate. The halls were loud, people buzzing with gossip and half-finished assignments, but underneath it all there was that dragging, heavy ugh that came with the start of a new week.
I was leaning against the lockers, chatting with Marina, just talking about nothing in particular while I kept trying not to sound half-dead from lack of sleep. She was animated, whining about how much homework Halifax gave over the weekend and I was just nodding along, letting her vent.
Then I spotted him—Trent—coming down the hall like a commercial for varsity athletics. He had that easy, unshaken stride, the kind of presence that automatically drew eyes.
"Morning, bro," he greeted, sticking his hand out before he’d even fully reached me.
I clasped it, and the look in his eyes told me everything. A quiet, I’ve got this from here.
I glanced at Marina, then back at him. The hint was clear.
So I nodded, forcing a casual smile. "See you later, Marina."
She smiled back, small but warm, before turning her full attention to Trent.
I walked off, exhaling. Not jealous. Not exactly. Just... cautious.
I hadn’t even made it ten steps, still within earshot of their laughter, when something shifted behind me.
And that’s when I heard it.
] "Hi."
A calm, smooth voice. Not sugary sweet, not fake. Just... steady.
I turned, and there she was.
Avery Brooke Prescott.
Her hair fell loose today, a little tousled like she’d either rushed to school or spent an hour trying to look like she hadn’t tried. Her eyes flicked over me before settling in, unflinching.
"Avery," I said, keeping my tone neutral.
She folded her arms, tilting her head slightly. "Relax. I’m not here to start something."
"Alright," I said slowly.
For a moment, she just studied me. Like she was lining up the right words, chewing them over before letting them out.
Finally, she sighed, almost like she was bored with herself. "You know, I never actually liked you. Not at first."
My brow furrowed. "...What?"
Her lips curved, not quite a smile. "Don’t get flattered. I didn’t like you—not back then. I only went after you because you were hers. Because I wanted to hurt Celestia. And what better way than to go after what she wouldn’t share? Messing with you was just the fastest way to mess with her."
I stayed quiet, waiting.
Avery tilted her head, studying me. "But then you... didn’t care. You didn’t give me the time of day. You didn’t even look at me. Every other guy in this school—hell, in my life—" She flicked her fingers, dismissive. "—trips over themselves just to get a smile out of me. They don’t tell me no.
I shifted, uncomfortable under her stare.
She let out a small laugh, bitter around the edges. "And then there’s you. Aloof. Distant. Always looking past me like I wasn’t even in the room. Like I didn’t matter. And do you know what that did to me?"
"...Made you mad?" I guessed.
Her smile broke wider, almost genuine this time. "Mad? Furious. I hated it. Because when you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting attention, being ignored feels like—" she snapped her fingers lightly "—like someone just flipped the script on you. And instead of making me walk away..."
Her voice dropped lower. "...it made me want you to look at me even more."
That quiet honesty hit harder than if she’d shouted.
I ran a hand over my face. "...Avery."
"Don’t worry, I know." She gave a little laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You’re not interested. You’ve made that clear enough. And if I’m being honest, I think that’s what finally hit me. That I wasn’t trying to hurt Celestia anymore. I was just... chasing after the one guy who wouldn’t look at me twice."
Her eyes flicked over me, searching.
I shifted again, trying to find the right words. "...You do know Val would actually kill you, right?"
That made her laugh—really laugh this time, full and bright. Heads turned down the hall.
She shook her head, brushing her hair back. "Not literally. But yeah, I know. I’d probably lose an arm just for standing here too long."
I chuckled under my breath despite myself. "Sounds about right."
The smile faded from her lips, but her expression softened. "So, I’m not asking you to like me back. That’s not it. I just... I don’t know. I don’t want to be your enemy anymore. So I’ll ask for something else instead."
She hesitated, then finally let it out. Can we just... be friends?"
The words hung there, suspended.
I stared at her, caught between surprise and caution. My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
And then—like the universe had impeccable comedic timing—the air shifted.
Celestia walked in.
She didn’t say a word at first, just looked. Her eyes flicked from me to Avery, slow and sharp, like she was connecting dots in a puzzle only she could see.
Avery only arched a brow, cool and unbothered, but I caught the faintest twitch in her jaw.
And me?
Yeah, I suddenly wished Monday morning had never existed.
---
I didn’t even get the chance to breathe through it before it happened.
Because that was the exact moment I felt a pair of arms slide snugly around my waist.
"Morning, husband."
The voice was sweet. Too sweet. Like sugar meant to cover poison.
I didn’t need to look. My stomach already knew.
"Val..." I murmured, half relief, half dread.
Celestia rested her chin on my shoulder, her body flush against mine, and then, with a smile that was all porcelain and knives, she tilted her head at the girl still standing in front of me.
> "Avery."
Her tone was warm enough to sound polite. But the way my girlfriend said that name made the hallway temperature drop three degrees. (I said girlfriend didn’t I?)
"Celestia," Avery replied, calm. Not mocking, not flustered — just... steady.
"Funny seeing you here," Celestia said, her smile widening as she pressed closer into my side, like she needed to remind us both I was hers. "Or maybe not funny. You always do have this way of... appearing."
Avery’s lips curved faintly, though her eyes stayed flat. "Relax. I wasn’t ambushing your husband. Just talking."
Celestia’s lashes fluttered, all false innocence. "Oh, I’m relaxed." She reached up, brushing imaginary lint from my shirt. "Why wouldn’t I be?"
My mouth went dry. If tension could be bottled, this hallway could’ve fueled an entire city.
Avery shifted her books against her chest, exhaling slowly. "Look... I’m not here to fight. You probably won’t believe that, but it’s true. I was actually..." She paused, as if the word itself was bitter. "...apologizing. For real this time"
Celestia stilled against me, then tilted her head like she’d just been told the funniest joke of the year. "Apologizing?"
"Yes." Avery met her gaze, unflinching. "Not that it matters. I already know if I apologize, you won’t accept it anyway."
Celestia let out a soft laugh, her nails tapping idly against my chest. "Correct." Then, with a syrupy smile: "But it’s cute that you tried."
"Val..." I muttered, shooting her a warning look.
Her eyes flicked to mine — sharp, searching — and for a split second, I swore she looked like she wanted to snap. But then she caught whatever expression I was wearing and drew back, softening her tone by a hair.
"I mean," she added smoothly, "people don’t change overnight. Right, Avery?"
Avery didn’t take the bait. "I’m not asking you to believe me. I just... don’t want to keep playing the same game. I’m tired."
Celestia smirked, though I could feel the way her arms tightened around me, like she didn’t trust a single word. "Tired of losing, you mean."
Something flickered across Avery’s face — irritation, maybe — but she kept her voice even. "Maybe. Or maybe tired of being the villain. Believe what you want."
I let out a slow breath, caught between them, wishing I could disappear into the nearest wall.
Celestia finally leaned her cheek against my shoulder, still staring at Avery. "You’re right about one thing. I don’t accept apologies." Her voice dropped softer, but sharper. "Especially from people who touch what’s mine."
"Val—" I started, but she only smiled sweetly, cutting me off.
"Don’t worry, husband. I said I’m relaxed."
But I didn’t believe her for a second.
And from the way Avery’s jaw tightened again, neither did she.
Avery folded her arms lightly, her calm like armor. "You act like I’m circling to steal something, but I already told him—I get it. He’s yours. I’m not here for that."
Celestia’s smile sharpened. "You think saying the words makes them true?"
"Do you ever hear yourself?" Avery’s brow lifted. "Not everything revolves around you, Celestia."
"Oh, but this does." Celestia leaned in closer against me, her voice dropping into velvet steel. "He does."
I swallowed hard, glancing between them, watching Avery’s composure war against Celestia’s grin that screamed she’d happily end her on the spot if I wasn’t standing here.
Avery finally exhaled through her nose, eyes flicking briefly to me before settling back on her. "You’re exhausting."
"And you’re persistent." Celestia tilted her head, lashes batting. "Which, in case you missed it, is just another word for annoying."
"Val—" I tried, but neither even twitched in my direction.
This was bad. This was nuclear.
And then, somehow, I opened my mouth and words came out before my brain could stop them.
"Enough."
It wasn’t loud, but it was firm. Final. The kind of tone I didn’t even recognize coming out of myself.
Both their heads turned toward me.
"I’m serious," I said, holding their gazes in turn. "This—whatever this is—ends here. No more sniping, no more fake smiles, no more backhanded apologies. If you want to talk to me, you talk to me. If you want to glare at each other, do it on your own time. But not with me standing here."
Silence.
Absolute, ringing silence.
Celestia blinked, her lips parting like she couldn’t quite process that I’d just told her to shut it. She of all people, quiet? That alone felt like spotting a unicorn.
Avery’s expression flickered—first surprise, then something like grudging respect—as she shifted her weight, uncrossing her arms.
I exhaled slowly, pulse still thundering in my ears. "Didn’t think that would work," I muttered under my breath.
But it did.
Because for once, both girls said nothing.
And in that moment, I wasn’t sure who was more shocked—Avery, Celestia or myself.
---
To be continued...