Hi guys! I just want to say that I linked the fashion ad for A.R.C in the youtube side bar thing. You can pretty much guess who Ryan is but the model isn't neccessarily who I picture him as. Anyway it was just inspiration! Have fun reading!!
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“Ava…I love you…I’m in love with you Ava.” His words swirled around my mind, over and over til they’re meaning became foreign to me.

“Say you love me too, say it. Please say it.” He pleaded, he was holding my hand while we floated weightlessly around together in some kind of empty white space.

His eyes were so intense, his expression was grave but he was still so beautiful to me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but there was something caught in my throat, a bubble or some kind of lump that prevented me from speaking.

His hand let go of mine.

“Why?” he asked, his face contorting into an expression of pain, his eyes full of hurt.

My heart wrenched tightly at the fact that I had caused him to look that way.

We were drifting apart in the infinite white space. I reached out for his hand as I tried to yell, to scream, to shout, for any sound to come out at all.

“3 words.” He said as he drifted backwards, “3 words are all it takes for me to come back to you.”

I was screaming myself hoarse in my mind but still, no sound left my lips. And he was getting further and further away.

I struggled frantically to chase after him, but the air was thick like fluid and I was moving so frustratingly slowly. I couldn’t move my arms or legs fast enough, and the more I struggled it seemed the slower I moved.

Drops of water seemed to float suspended in the air around me as I mouthed the words I so desperately wanted to tell him. They were tears. I haven’t cried since I was 10. My hands reached out for him, I kicked and screamed into the vacuum of space, as he turned his back to me and floated away.

He was gone.

He was really gone this time and I would never get him back.

Why couldn’t I just say those 3 stupid words?

My tired eyes opened slowly and gazed uninterestedly at my boring white ceiling while I waited for my racing heartbeat to return to normal. I didn’t feel the urge to move, didn’t feel like turning over, or getting up. Apart from releasing my hands from the tightly clenched fists they’d made, I lay perfectly still and did not move a muscle.

I woke up with a heavy weight on my chest, figuratively and literally; Poptart had decided to sleep on top of me at some point in the middle of the night.

I inhaled deeply and let the air leak back out slowly.

Same dream again.

But it didn’t seem any less real.

My throat actually felt sore, and my muscles a strange flood of relief; they were tensed up all night.

I parted my lips and tentatively broke the silence in my room, “Ryan…”

But I still couldn’t say it, just like in my dream.

It’s not like I was now physically incapable of saying the words ‘I’, ‘love’ and ‘you’, but saying them casually and superficially means nothing. I ‘love’ my phone, I ‘love’ Arctic monkeys, I ‘love’ coffee.

But to say it and really mean it, to say it about someone I felt strongly about let alone say it to their face...

Just the thought of it made my head spin.

Wait, my head actually was spinning?

I lifted a hand to my forehead; hot.
Nudging Poptart aside, I threw off the covers and began to shiver instantly. Weird, it was already Spring and the weather outside was quite warm.

“Mom?” I croaked, my voice really was hoarse, “Mom?”

Don’t tell me she was gone again, not now, not when I really needed her.

“Ava? What’s wrong?”  She said poking her head around my door.

Relief washed over me as I strode over shakily and hugged her.
Her arms felt pleasantly cold as they wrapped around me to hug me back.

“Honey you’re burning up!” She exclaimed, placing her cool hand on my forehead.

“A fever?” I croaked out.

“Watery eyes, pale lips, losing your voice; Ava you’re sick.” She concluded.

Shit. I hated being sick, it’s the worst, it made me feel so feeble.

“Wear some more layers and get back into bed, I’ll go and call the school; there is no way I’m letting you go like that.” She said before heading downstairs.

I felt unbearably hot even in my cropped pajama top, but my shaky shivering body said otherwise, so I opened my closet and grabbed the first comfortable but warm looking thing I could see and put it on, diving back into bed as fast as I could.

Where did I even get this top? It was so soft and warm and it smelt intoxicatingly good. It felt so familiar, like I was secure and safe and I could just rest easy.

I clutched the fabric of the over-sized top closer to my face so I could inhale the delicious scent and felt myself drift contentedly back to sleep.

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“Ava, honey wake up you’ve got to eat something.” Someone gently nudged me awake.

“Mom?” I rasped, “why aren’t you at work?”

“I got someone to cover my shift.” She explained, placing a glass and a steaming bowl of something that smelt delicious on my bedside table before sitting at the edge of my bed, “You rarely get sick and I wanted to look after my own daughter instead of other people for a change.”

“…thanks.” Maybe being sick was making me emotional but I felt almost overwhelmingly happy that my mom had for once chosen me over work.

“Eat your soup and drink your honey lemon tea and afterwards if you feel up to it, come downstairs and we can watch whatever show you want on TV.” She smiled, kissing my forehead before disappearing out the door.

‘Things are getting better between us,’ I smiled to myself as I reached for the bowl of chicken noodle soup.

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“America’s Next Top Model? Really Ava?” My mom asked, raising her eyebrow at me.

“Hey you said we could watch whatever I wanted,” I grinned and reminded her.

“Yes I you’re right, I did say that. But there are going to be so many ridiculous fashion ads in the breaks!” She laughed.

I secretly loved watching the ads; mostly there were models that looked like aliens, but sometimes there were some really hot ones. The cinematography was really the best part though!

“Ugh, that blonde girl shouldn’t have made it to the next round! The brunette ponytail is so much better at posing.” My mom groaned. She was so bad with names, she called all of the models by their hairstyle or physical appearance but it was pretty funny when she got worked up about it.  “Even DUCKLIPS was better than blondie.” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as she got up to go to the bathroom.

I laughed a croaky, gratingly throaty laugh as I saw that she had gotten up just in time to avoid another fashion ad that had just started playing on tv.

‘A.R.C, this is a new one,’ I thought as the label name appeared on screen.

Looks pretty fancy, what’s it called? A.R.C (Anastasia Ramsay Carlisle) with Marc Jacobs. Weird, why does that ring a bell?

As usual , a pan shot of a beach with chill music opened the ad, and the models in their fancy clothes started to walk on screen.

I grabbed my glass of water to take a sip as I took a look at the guys to see if any of them were hot.

Haha that guy kind of looks like Ryan.

WAIT A SEC.

*PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF* I sprayed water everywhere as I registered the fact that it WAS Ryan.

What the heck was he doing there?  AND WHAT WAS HE DOING LOOKING LIKE THAT ON NATIONAL TV. I almost didn’t recognise him with his sunglasses on.

And then it clicked. A.R.C = Anastasia Ramsay Carlisle = Anastasia from the dress shop who asked Ryan a favour and apparently that favour which Ryan refused to tell me involved exposing his abs which were supposed to be for my eyes only to the rest of America and who knows where else.

My mouth was gaping open and closed as my eyes were glued to the screen.

What. The. F***.

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I was desperate to get back to school and find out for myself whether or not this was actually true, but I apparently my body was adamant not to get better for the next 2 days.  

Lying on the couch at home watching the fashion channel again to catch the ad again, it only appeared 1 more time but once more was all I needed to confirm that that body could only belong to my Ryan.  Shit, he was not ‘mine.’

*Bzzzzzzz* went my phone as it vibrated on the table.

Who texted me? I kind of hoped it was Ryan who would say by some miracle that it wasn’t him and that it was just his European male model doppelganger or something. Who am I kidding, he hasn’t texted me for a week now.

New message from Rose:

Uh, Ava I’m not sure if you want to see this but I think it’s better that I show it to you now rather than later :/

Show me what? I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach as my anxiety grew.

*Bzzzzzzzz* went my phone again as Rose sent me some pictures.

Ok so it wasn’t as bad as I thought, it was just some photoshoot pictures in a magazine but nothing I hadn’t already seen in the commercial. Bzzzzz ok so these black and white ones of Ryan were new…

I was about to text Rose that I’d already seen Ryan on TV, but then she texted me another picture that stopped my heart. And made my blood boil.

Even with his back to the camera, I recognised that back anywhere; my fingers had traced down that spine, my hands had gripped those shoulders. Those arms had once been wrapped around me.

AND THERE WAS SOME MODEL BITCH WITH HER HANDS ON HIS ASS.

The only fingerprints on there should be MINE.

Argh not to mention that HIS HAND WAS ON HERS TOO.

That hand should only be allowed on my ass and my ass alone!

I swear, when I get back to school I’m going to–
You’re going to what Ava? What are you going to do? Yell at him for doing the favour that allowed you to wear that beautiful dress? Slap him for looking too sexy like models are supposed to? Treat him like he betrayed you when you’re the one that rejected him?

I’ve never felt more pathetic than I do right now.

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Finally I was well enough to go back to school. Never thought I’d ever say that in my life.

“Mom I’m up! Let’s have breakfast together, I’ll make waffles.” I called out. No answer.

I got downstairs and saw a note on the table.

Ava honey, I’m so sorry but I’ve been called to the hospital, there’s a problem at the ICU and the other paediatric cardiologist is on vacation. I’m not going be able to come home til Monday so you’ll have to look after Poptart until then. They need me there and I can’t get out of this one. At least you’re better now, I love you so much. Mom xx

…Just when I thought things were getting better. What about when I need you Mom? Are you only ever going to be there for me when I’m sick?

I knew she was trying really hard to make things work but I still felt this barrier between us…

Arriving at school, the ‘situation’ I found myself in wasn’t better; I was NOT prepared for how much had changed in the 3 days I’d been gone.

I had to shove my way past a bunch of gossipy Juniors who seemed to be oblivious to the fact that they were blocking the door, until I pounded on the metal right next to their heads.

Yikes I was NOT in a good mood today. I had this weird feeling that something was up but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. The weather was warm as Spring had definitely arrived) but today it was the third day of a semi-heatwave that was passing through the West Coast.

I admit to wearing short shorts on days like these, and it’s not surprising that other girls would dress down on the layers as well, but today it seemed like I’d stepped into Slutty McSlut-ville.  Why were there so many girls with their cleavage out and their asses on display? And more importantly, why was the number of the hordes of these flirty, giggling, ditzy girls only increasing and getting in my way the closer I got to my locker?

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to worm my way through the crowd, “Hey, sorry could you let me through?” I asked, tapping a couple of them on the shoulder.

It was obvious they could hear me, but none of them turned around, too preoccupied with whatever was probably causing the slutty clothes epidemic. Maybe it was a hot new student teacher? We’d had a couple of those before.

In any case my patience was wearing thin and all I wanted to do was get to my locker to dump my books there and then find out whatever or whoever it was that was causing all the holdup so I could give them a piece of my mind.

“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY GODDAMNIT!” I roared.

Well that got their attention.

The crowd split for me as I stormed through, finally revealing the path to my locker.

But my locker wasn’t the only thing I saw.

HO - LY F***

Leaning against his locker, 3 down from mine, was Ryan…or at least a devil imposter disguised as Ryan.  Who was this dark brooding guy and what had he done with my shy, bashful smart cookie?

The Ryan I knew rarely wore contacts let alone bronze aviator sunglasses. He wore sweaters and collared shirts with the top button done up, not loose unbuttoned shirts over thin V-necked A.R.C t-shirts that clung to the planes of his lean, muscular body. A body that previously only I knew about…

He had a haircut too, his usually perfectly styled hair was effortlessly mussed up in a stylish bedhead and if I wasn’t mistaken, it looked a shade or 2 darker as well. Heck, his now bronzed skin was definitely a few shades darker, when did he get so tanned? Probably for the photoshoot…

Gold Michael Kors watch around his sculptured wrist, titanium rings on his long fingers, OK sorry but WHAT? He even had an ear cuff on one ear.

He had transformed into exactly the sort of guy that used to be my type. But the thing is, I didn’t want a bad boy, I wanted a good boy, I wanted MY good boy back.

Yes, seeing him like this sent a shockwave of desire right through me, but it was because it was him that was dressed so sexily right now. If it were any other guy I might have spared one passing glance and admired his style, but that would be it. Definitely in the past I would have jumped any guy that looked like this but you know what, my past didn’t have Ryan in it now did it?

I was so mad. I was fuming. I was this close to breathing fire.

No other girl was supposed to know he looked that good. He needed to put his square glasses back on, button up that shirt to the top, take off all that jewellery and brush that hair into a comb-over. Everyone just needed to go back to not noticing him and they needed to do it right now. RIGHT NOW.

What was this venomous feeling that was rapidly building up inside me? I felt unstable, like I either wanted to slap him for looking too good or hurt anybody that dared to look at him like he was a piece of meat.

CUT IT OUT AVA, what are you, his jealous possessive girlfriend? Was it a crime that he looked so damn delicious? It should be…

‘He is not yours. You are not his girlfriend. You chose this road. You can’t make him do anything. He doesn’t any obligation to you. He can date whoever he wants. You can’t keep interfering with his life.’ I had to chant in my head to stop myself before I pushed him up against the wall and kissed him fiercely to show every girl in school that he was already mine.

‘He’s not yours…’ I chanted again firmly.

I probably had the facial expression of a mass murderer by the way that people scrambled to get out of my path.

His body language was so…powerful. He looked off into the distance indifferently as he leaned back against the lockers with his arms crossed confidently and casually.

“What’s up with you?” he asked, his features were neutral and stony as he addressed me, though I couldn’t see his usually expressive eyes through the shades.  His low husky voice sent shivers down my spine and memories of the winter formal flooding back into my mind.

It wasn’t just his appearance that had changed, he spoke so coldly to me now, not that I could blame him. No ‘hi’ no ‘are you feeling better?’ It felt like frostbite but at least he was still talking to me.

Did I do this to him? Was I the one who caused him to change so drastically?

Remembering what had happened during Christmas as well, I internally groaned in exasperation as reality sunk in. I was a life ruiner. Ryan was perfectly fine before I came in and messed up everything; I’d already become the mistake that I had tried so desperately to avoid being.

F*** you heart, for overpowering any and all logic and reason I had when it came to Ryan. If I only ever said ‘no’ this never would have happened. If I stuck to dating bad boys I would never have messed up his life. But if you never said ‘yes’ you’d never know just how unbelievably wonderful he is…

My brows must have furrowed even more that they already were and Ryan, looking just slightly concerned, then asked “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?” 

“Yeah you did Ryan. How did you think you could just appear like that, like you walked straight out of that fashion ad and expect me not to be pissed off at you? How do you expect me to remain calm when I’m both extremely turned on and frustrated by the fact that I have no right to stop other girls from staring at you?”

Guys calm down.  I have a strong tendency to speak my mind but as if I would expose myself so dangerously like that.

What I did say was,

“Not you in particular, but everything and everyone is grating on my nerves today…”  I trailed off while redirecting my glare at yet another bunch of twittering sophomores who had the audacity to lick their lips while they made slut-eyes at Ryan.

Needless to say, they scurried away, terrified, while Ryan remained oblivious to everything. As per usual.

The bell rang and we headed off to Pre-calc, I was still seething and I stormed into the classroom and slammed my books onto the desk somehow managing to knock over my chair in the process.

That’s it. I’d had enough; how much more was I supposed to take all in the same day?!

I shut my eyes and counted to 10 just like my dad taught me when I was 5.  Dad… it was times like these that I really needed him the most, even just imagining he was with me made me feel just a little calmer.

But when I opened my eyes again, my chair was upright, my books were neatly laid out on my desk and there was Ryan sitting at the desk next to mine, looking as indifferent as one possibly could with a strawberry lollipop in their outstretched hand.

My face softened as I sat down and gazed into understanding eyes, no longer hidden by sunglasses. He didn’t even know what the heck was going on and he should be the last person who would want to help me, but he was still there for me. And I felt all my anger dissipate.

I’m pretty sure that Ryan is the only living person I know who’s ever been able to bring me back from the verge of turning into hurricane Ava. I’m not proud to admit to some of the fights I’d gotten myself into when I was younger, when something or someone just pushed me too far. But those times (mostly around when my Dad had died) were all in the past now.

I took the lollipop from his hand and savoured the warm tingle that spread through my body when our hands briefly touched. 

“Thanks,” I said in a soft voice, “Strawberry’s my favourite, how did you know?”

I swear I saw a little smirk appear as his cheeks turned pink and he said “I had a hunch.”

Is it weird that I felt so much relief from seeing him blush? It was a sign that ‘good’ Ryan hadn’t disappeared.

“A hunch huh?” I replied, trying to lighten the mood in between sucks,

“That’s weird, most people pick me for a liquorice girl, probably because of my black heart. Very funny don’t you think?” and I twirled my tongue absent-mindedly around the sweet candy.   Ugh ‘black heart’ was probably not the best joke to try crack since he would probably agree with that description.

But he didn’t say anything except “uhuh”

…okay. So I turned to him again and added “Just for the record, I HATE liquorice. I really can’t stand the taste,” waving my lollipop around for enhanced effect. That got him laughing.  And more relief flooded through me as I watched his eyes crinkled and his face went all boyish and adorable. When he laughed, it’s like the mask he was wearing broke and the real Ryan was back.

“AHEM!” We turned to the front of the class where our stick-up-his-butt teacher Mr Kirk was standing with his arms folded. “If you two lovebirds would be so kind as to stop flirting, we will begin class.”

“Oh, we’re not dating.” Ryan said eloquently.   

And even though I was the one who made that decision, the one who pushed him away, it still stung so painfully to hear those words fall so effortlessly from his lips.

So I did what I do best to protect myself; insults and comebacks to redirect unwanted attention “Geez Kirk, are you feeling ok? You’re looking a little green…with envy.” I smirked at our 40-year-old-virgin math teacher.

“Miss Maxwell let me put this way; I care as much about your love-life as you care about this class, now hush or you’ll get ANOTHER detention.” He said bluntly as he turned back around to the board. But we could all see his ears turning bright red.

I heard a couple sniggers and giggles around the classroom even an “oooh burnnn!” but I just flipped them off with both hands and they went silent.

Looking back to Ryan, I found him staring broodingly out the window. All of a sudden, he seemed distant again, like he was sad about something.

I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. 1) Because Kirk really would give me a detention. 2) Because I had this sinking feeling that I was the one responsible for making him this way.

Since he respected my need for silence by not asking anything before, I wouldn’t push him to tell me. Hadn’t I done enough of that already?

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Sorry if you see any typos, this was unedited! Part 2 up soon!!
Don't forget to comment and vote! Please comment, pretty please. I love getting feedback!
Cerise xx :)