Don't Call Me Angel

Epilogue

Lavender White stood in the middle of her small apartment, boxes scattered around her. The early morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the modest furnishings. She took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Today was her first day of college at the University of Buffalo.

"Hey, you ready?" Ambrose Cunningham's voice came from the kitchen. He emerged, dressed in his work uniform, a simple white shirt and black pants. His job as a waiter at a nearby restaurant had been a stroke of luck, and he had embraced it with the same determination that had gotten him through Fire and Ice.

"Almost," Lavender replied, smiling at him. "Just trying to find my notebook."

Ambrose walked over, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You'll do great, Lav. You've worked so hard for this."

She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in their familiar intensity. "Thanks, Ambrose. And thank you for everything. I couldn't have done this without you."

He smiled, a rare warmth softening his features. "We're in this together, remember? Now, let's get you to class."

The campus was bustling with activity as students hurried to their classes, chatting excitedly about their schedules and new experiences. Lavender clutched her backpack, feeling a flutter of nerves. She had been through so much to get here, and now it was finally happening.

Ambrose walked beside her, his presence a steadying force. "Which building is it?"

"Over there," she pointed to a large brick building with ivy crawling up its sides. "Introduction to Literature."

"Perfect. You'll love it," he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be at work, but text me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," Lavender promised. She paused at the entrance, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "I'll see you tonight."

"Good luck," Ambrose said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "You've got this."

Lavender's first class went by in a blur of introductions and syllabi. She found herself quickly absorbed in the material, the familiar comfort of literature grounding her in this new environment. The professor was engaging, and her classmates seemed friendly enough.

During a break, she found a quiet spot on a bench outside to eat her lunch. She pulled out her phone, typing a quick message to Ambrose.

Lavender: First class done. It went well!

His reply came almost instantly.

Ambrose: I knew it would. Proud of you.

She smiled at the screen, feeling a warmth spread through her. As she finished her lunch, she looked around at the bustling campus, feeling a sense of belonging start to take root.

The rest of the day passed smoothly, and by the time Lavender returned to the apartment, she was exhausted but happy. Ambrose was already home, a tired but satisfied look on his face.

"Hey," she greeted him, dropping her backpack by the door. "How was work?"

"Busy, but not bad," he replied, pulling her into a hug. "How was your first day?"

"Good," she said, leaning into him. "Really good. I think I'm going to like it here."

They spent the evening unpacking more boxes, arranging their little apartment into something that felt like home. Lavender marveled at how far they had come—from the troubled teens at Fire and Ice to this new chapter of their lives.

"Remember our first day at camp?" Ambrose asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Lavender laughed softly. "How could I forget? We were so different then."