Ava:

I hurry inside, cursing myself for letting myself get so worked up. When I get inside, I kick off my shoes, reaching on my shoulder to take off my bag. Except there's no bag. In my rush to get inside the house, apparently I've misplaced the fucking thing. With an aggravated huff, I storm back outside, not bothering to put my shoes back on. The grass is still damp from the autumn rain, leaving my socks soggy. The sensation would usually drive me crazy, but right now my brain is anywhere but here, unable to focus on anything besides finding my bag.

I look around outside, hoping I just dropped it outside Milo's truck in my hast. But, as luck would have it, it's absolutely nowhere. Which means it's in Milo's truck. What if he goes through my stuff? I mean, it's fair. I went through his notebook- a very personal one, apparently -which means... I guess he can look through mine?

I reach into the back pocket of my pants to grab my phone, pissed off that I let myself get so worked up I forgot my purse. I grope my left pocket, then my right pocket... "What the fuck?" I grumble to myself, patting myself down like I'm frisking myself. No phone either. "Oh what the fuck."

My mom pops her head outside, yelling at me for leaving the door open. "Do some shit like that again, and you're sleeping outside!" Mom yells, slamming the door closed with so much force, I think it's about to shatter the windows next to it.

My socks are now noticeably wet, and I rip them off, throwing them in the bushes with an angry yell. It felt good to get that out. What I loved about cheer is that we had to shout. I was allowed- encouraged to yell. I miss it so. Fucking. Much.

I stand idly on my lawn for a minute longer, just staring at the door my mom slammed shut, thinking about how my bag and phone is with Milo currently. I make my way inside again, shivering from the cold and lack of socks. When I step into the kitchen, I slip on the tile, steadying myself on a cabinet. The old wood creaks under the sudden pressure, and falls to one side, causing all the dishes and cups inside of it to come tumbling out.

Not everything breaks, but... most do. My mom comes running downstairs, her eyes wide as she sees the mess I made. She stands there, her chest heaving up and down rapidly as her face slowly turns red. "Mom-" I try to start, looking around for a safe place to stand. The cabinet is now laying on the counter below, the surrounding floor flooded with glass and ceramic shards. I have no idea how I'm supposed to clean this all up.

Tears spring to my mom's eyes, but she fights them off. "This is exactly why your father left," she manages to get out after a second, before a violent sob rips from her throat.

It's a soul crushing sound, and I can physically feel my heart shatter in my chest. I'm not new to being told I'm the reason my father left- I've heard it said behind my back and to my face growing up. In all honesty, none of us actually know why he left. He didn't even leave a note. Just packed up his stuff in the middle of the night, and left.

Mom has never been the same since; always distant, never dating again in fear of them leaving her. And she has hated me since the second we woke up to my father gone. People would whisper behind my back about me being the reason Dad left, but they would at least show fake sympathy to my face. "Poor girl," they'd whisper amongst themselves. "Daddy didn't love her enough so he had to leave to play family with someone else."

My mother was the opposite. She never hid the fact that she thought it was my fault. She blamed it on me kissing boys too young, for sneaking out my window at night, sneaking my dad's beer when he wasn't looking. On multiple occasions, she's blamed my father's absence on my "whoreness."

"Mom, my feet-" I try again, taking a step back, away from the glass to grab my shoes and a broom.

"Get out," Mom says quietly, sniffling as she tries to catch her breath. Then, louder, she shouts, "Get the fuck out, Ava! Find somewhere to stay tonight! I can't do this right now..."

I look at her in shock, my bottom lip quivering. "Momma, I'm sorry," I whimper out, suddenly frozen to the ground, unable to move. "Please-"

She grabs a mug that's half shattered, throwing it next to me. It shatters even further against the wall, and I cover my face so it doesn't get in my eyes. I leave the kitchen quickly, grabbing the essentials that I have access to and leaving the house.

I start down the road, my feet still damp from the wet socks, groaning against the rubber in my boots. The jacket I'm wearing does little to brace against the wind, and I wrap my arms tightly around each other to keep myself warm.

The more I walk, the more I'm realizing I'm making the trek to Lexi's house. While not incredibly long, walking thirty minutes at nearly ten o'clock at night on a cold October night is not ideal. About ten minutes into my walk, I see a pair of headlights break through the fog down the road. My heart quickens a bit, wishing I had my pepper spray and phone with me. Maybe the darkness will hide me, I think as I pull my jacket tighter, cursing myself for picking the least warm coat I own.

My pace quickens, and I keep my eyes up, trying to be as aware of my surroundings as possible. When the car slows down, my heart jumps to my throat, and I lace my keys in between my fingers carefully, prepared to punch someone if I have to.

The car pulls to a full stop next to me, and fight or flight fails me, and I freeze in place, eyes wide in fear. I realize the car is really a truck, and when the window gets rolled down, I hear, "Ava?"

I squint my eyes in the dark to see who it is, taking a few tentative steps towards the vehicle. "W-who is that?" I demand, raising my fist-o-keys defensively.

The door opens slowly, and out slides Milo, his hands in the air in surrender. "It's just me," he promises, dropping his hands to the side once he sees me relax. He opens the door wider, grabbing something from the dark passenger seat. "I was actually coming back to give you this. You forgot it."

I snatch my purse up thankfully, slinging it fully around me like a cross-body so I can't possibly lose it again. I open the bag, grabbing my phone. A few missed calls from Milo- meaning he didn't go through my bag, since he thought I had my phone -and a few social media notifications. Lexi's texted me too, asking how my "date with Milo" went. Ugh.

"Thank you," I say quietly, finally looking up at him. I shiver as a big gust of wind blows the trees beside us. "Sorry you had to come back out."

He shrugs nonchalantly, waving a dismissive hand. "It's whatever. Uh... Where are you going?"

The sudden question causes tears to prick my eyes, and I swallow the lump starting to form in my throat. "I don't know," I manage to get out, before breaking down. I bury my face into my hands, embarrassed that I can't control the flood of emotions that takes over my body. "I-I-I... I-I'm so-orry..."

After a moment of silently crying into my hands, I feel Milo approach. Without a word, his arms wrap around me, and he pulls me into his chest. My hands remain shielding my face, but my sobs melt into him, muffled by the fabric of his shirt. He starts tracing slow, deliberate circles on my upper back, his touch both gentle and grounding. His chin comes to rest atop my head, and we sway together, a soft rhythm to the broken sounds of my crying.

Eventually, the tears run dry, leaving me empty and dehydrated. I pull away, scrubbing furiously at my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I mutter, heat creeping up my face. "I usually have better control than that."

Milo doesn't say anything. Instead, he steps around and slides into the driver's seat, unlocking the passenger side with a soft click. "Get in," he says softly, and this time I don't hesitate- I walk around the truck and jump in. He grips the old gear stick, wrestling with it, his jaw tightening as he fights to get it unstuck. Finally, with a satisfying clunk, it shifts, and we ease back onto the road.

A silence stretches between us, thick and heavy, until I blurt out, "My mom kicked me out." My fingers instinctively tug at my bottom lip, the words foreign on my tongue. I can't remember the last time I opened up to a guy like this. Usually, it's just fleeting- a one night, no strings. But with Milo, it feels... different.

Milo goes quiet for a second, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice just barely a whisper. "That's awful. What happened?"

Tears spring back into my eyes, and my throat aches from fighting them back. "I forgot my... everything in your truck, and then my feet were wet from outside, and I slipped and broke the cabinet... and everything inside of it."

He lets a low whistle, cringing at my story. "Man, that's rough. Sounds like you're cursed. Sorry, that's what you get for hanging around the unlucky magnate." He gestures to himself with a crooked grin, trying to lighten the mood. I manage a sniffle, offering a half-hearted shrug in return. "Do you have somewhere you can go for the night?"

I shrug again, pulling out my phone with trembling fingers, barely managing to tap the right buttons. The cold has seeped into my skin, making them slow and clumsy. Finally, I reach my call log and dial Lexi.

"Hey, girl!" She says loudly over the music that's threatening to drown her out. It sounds like she's at a party- or maybe a concert? "What's up? How was your date?!"

Milo's head snaps towards me, a blush spreading from ear to ear. His eyes are wide in shock, but he quickly turns his head back towards the road, trying to play it cool. I hide my face in my free hand, shushing Lexi loudly.

"I'm going to kill you in your sleep," I hiss into the phone, my heart pounding into my chest. "Ugh... What are you doing right now? Where even are you? I can barely-"

"I love you, but I really can't talk right now," her voice is muffled, and I hear her giggling slightly. "Is it super uber mega important?"

Not wanting to burden her more than I already do, I force a laugh, shaking my head. "No worries, I just wanted to talk about our days! Uh, just call me when you're free. I love you! Have fun- don't do anything I would."

I hang up the phone as Lexi laughs into it, and swallow roughly. Milo looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. "Why would you say it's no big deal? You got kicked out. What're you going to do? Ask a nice homeless man to share a street corner with you?"

The laugh that escapes my lips is quiet and humorless, and I shrug. "I pass by one when I walk from school. Name's Pete. Real nice guy. Sometimes I get him some McDonalds. Maybe me and him can kick it for the night." Though I'm joking, I'm actually heavily weighing my options for what my next move is. I don't want to wake Lexi's parents...

"Well, tell Pete maybe another night," Milo says with a low laugh, suddenly taking a turn at the next stop sign. "Stay at my apartment for the night. I know- it's a crack house, but it's not on the cold streets where Creepy Pete can touch you while you sleep."

I look towards him in surprise, my eyebrows shooting up. "Oh, uh, are you sure?" I ask, the idea of being alone all night with Milo making my heart flutter with both nerves and excitement.

He shrugs casually, now driving with a sense of purpose, the aimlessness gone. "Yeah. You can take the air mattress, or my bed, and I can sleep on the air mattress. Uh, whatever you want. I know it just won't be the floor, that's for sure."

I blush slightly, giggling lightly. For half a second, I forget about the fight with my mom, and my string of bad luck. "Facts," I agree, faking a shudder.

He gives me a gentle wack to my thigh, shaking his head in mock disgust. "You suck," he teases, though I catch the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Really well," I joke, smacking him back. Milo blushes again, brighter this time, but laughs with me. After a second, I look over at him and sincerely say, "Thank you. I... actually don't know what I would have done if you didn't pick me up."

Milo gives me a firm nod, his smile softening slightly. "No worries. I could use the company, honestly. Even with someone as awful as you."

I give him my most dramatic eye roll and scoff, flipping him off. "You're sleeping on the floor," I shoot back with a smirk, and the roads become slightly familiar as we pull into Milo's neighborhood. It isn't the best street, and I worry a little bit when I see some guys hanging outside.

Milo pulls up the side road, hopping out of the car. He unlocks the door for me and opens it, tentatively sticking out his hand so he can help me down. I take it gingerly, thanking him as I step down. As we walk past a group of guys, they whistle at me, making almost baboon-like noises. Their stares make my skin crawl, and I take a step back.

"Hey, mami," one of them calls out, his voice slithering through the air. He pushes himself off the wall, swaggering toward me with an arrogant smirk. Under the streetlight, I can make out the tattoos snaking across his arms, neck, and face. A toothpick dangles from the corner of his mouth, twitching as he grins. "Haven't seen you 'round here before."

The words escape me as he steps closer, and before I can say anything, I feel Milo's arm wrap around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. "Yo, that's my fucking girl," he spits in a voice I've never heard come from Milo before.

The guy throws his hands up in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Hey, no disrespect, homie. She's a catch. Treat her right, or she'll come running to me." The guy makes a peace sign over his lips, flicking his tongue around in a disgusting display.

Milo quickly shuttles me inside, his arm still firmly wrapped around me. Once we're all the way in his apartment with the door locked, I finally breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I say once Milo is done locking up. "You saved me twice in one day, how am I supposed to top that?"

He laughs, the sound rough and almost bitter as he kicks off his shoes and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry that happened. Men like that are fucking disgusting and deserve to have their balls removed. Painfully."

I nod emphatically, snapping my fingers in a sassy zig-zag. "Preach, sister."

Milo rolls his eyes, adjusting his jacket, but not taking it off. "You are so annoying," he grumbles, trudging into the living room. "Okay, do you want the air mattress, or my bed? I don't care either way. I could sleep on a rock and be fine, I think."

The idea of sleeping in the bed Milo has slept in makes my heart beat against my chest, and I shrug. "Uh, whatever."

"Oh, God, you're so unhelpful," he groans, rubbing his face with both hands. I think he's hiding a smile behind them, but that might just be wishful thinking. After a pause, he glances at me, almost sheepish. "Do you, uh... want a change of clothes? That sweater looks like it's doing you no favors. I mean, I don't have much, but I can lend you something more comfortable."

Once again, my heart rate quickens at the idea, and I suppress the feelings. It's only because he's a man, who's showing an ounce of care. And when he finds out how terribly broken I am on the inside, he's going to leave me. Call me a beast, cause that shit is a tale as old as time.

I nod reluctantly after a second, the fabric damp and scratchy against my skin. "Please... Thank you, again. Ugh, I never thought I would be thanking you."

Milo laughs as he heads into his bedroom, and I follow behind like a lost puppy. He glances over his shoulder with a smirk. "What would I ever thank you for?" He teases, throwing one of his few clean shirts at my face. I catch it with a playful glare, but before I can respond, a pair of checkered pajama pants comes flying at me- harder this time, hitting me square in the chest.

"I might be annoying, but at least I'm not a prick," I shoot back, snatching some socks from him and trying to suppress my grin. Milo lurches forward suddenly, like he's preparing to chase me.

I scream, darting into the bathroom, fumbling with the lock. "God, if I actually needed this, I'd be screwed!" I yell through the door, hearing his laughter echo from the bedroom.

I get changed into Milo's clothes, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I'm practically drowning in his pants, having to cuff them three times so I don't trip over them. The shirt fits loosely, slouching off one of my shoulders. I pull my hair into a messy bun atop my head, throwing open the door.

When I step back into the bedroom, Milo drinks in my appearance, and I can swear I see his eyes darken just the slightest. But all he does is flash me that stupid grin of his. "That should be your new look."

I give him a twirl, striking a pose from that one Roblox game. Milo laughs at my theatrics, giving me a round of applause. "Very nice. No notes. One request, though- Pick a fucking spot to sleep."

After a second of deliberation, I wave my hand like a queen dismissing her court. "I'll take the air mattress," I declare with a firm nod. "I've slept on worse. Some guy I fucked had a waterbed. I didn't know they still made those things."

Milo raises an eyebrow at my confession, suppressing a laugh. "How was sex on a waterbed?" He asks curiously, humor lacing his voice.

"Horrible," I admit with a laugh, shuddering at the thought. "I thought we were going to pop it at one point. And it was so cold..."

We both laugh as we walk back into the living room. Milo throws me a blanket that's about as thick as paper, along with a spare pillow. I stand carrying the things while he blows up the air mattress some more, to ensure I don't fully deflate by the end of the night.

Once everything is all set up, he gives the bed- or couch? -a smack. "Voila! I present: Not Sleeping With Creepy Pete."

I sit down, bouncing on it a couple of times like I'm judging its quality. "I mean, it's no street corner, but... I guess it'll do." I lay down, pulling the blanket to my chin as I settle in. "Thanks again, Milo. Okay, seriously, last time I'm saying that."

Milo gives me a small grin, flicking off the light. "Uh, if you need me, just scream I guess. That's what you cheerleading bitches are good at, right?"

I nod, smiling back at him. "The best," I promise, tossing him a wink that makes his cheeks flush. "Goodnight."

He says goodnight back, disappearing down the hall, shutting off lights as he goes. I'm surrounded by darkness, the only source of light from the streetlamp outside the window. Besides the music that's playing from the house next door, it's relatively quiet.

As I curl up under the thin blanket, the rhythmic pulse of the distant music lulls me. Slowly, I drift off, the weight of the day finally giving way to sleep.