Contrary Hearts

Chapter 18: Macklemore Ass Date

Milo:

I fidget restlessly with my hair in front of the mirror, flipping it over one side and then the other, trying to get it to sit just right. At this point, I've probably used enough hairspray to build a fortress out of it. My eyes trail over my reflection, taking in the way my jacket drapes loosely around me and how my white shirt has faded to more of a dull beige after countless wears. A sigh escapes my lips as I think about how incredible Ava will look tonight- no matter how many times I told her to keep it casual.

My stomach twists with nerves. What if she hates the date? What if she thinks the whole thing is lame? I really want to take things slow this time- rushing into it last time didn't go over well. It's been nearly a month since we hooked up, and I can't seem to stop thinking about it. In my dreams, though, Ava always morphs into some kind of monstrous version of herself, killing me before walking away.

Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

Ava's so different from me. What if that difference is what dooms us? I've never been in a relationship before- what if that's too much for someone like her, someone who's terrified of commitment? We've been texting the last few days, ever since that conversation in the cafeteria, and things have felt... okay. But I can sense Ava holding back, showing me only a sliver of who she really is. Maybe she's afraid that if she reveals too much, I'll be the one to leave this time.

I grab my phone, sending Ava a quick text that I'm on my way, then scoop up my keys and head downstairs. As soon as I open the front door, I freeze. Sitting at the curb in front of my apartment is a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle, its windows tinted almost as dark as legally allowed. The driver's window rolls down, and Ava wiggles her fingers at me with a playful smirk.

A laugh escapes me as I walk over, leaning against the open window. "Please don't tell me you stole this from some hippie," I tease, resting my arms on the edge of the door.

She giggles, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder in a practiced move. "How did you know?" she jokes, her eyes glinting with mischief. But beneath that teasing exterior, I can see the signs of her own nerves- the way her fingers are constantly fidgeting and her leg can't seem to stay still.

"But seriously," she says, straightening up slightly, "Lexi's parents bought this for me. For Thanksgiving. Just because."

I bite down on the pang of jealousy that rises in my chest, forcing a grin. "They really do love you, huh?" I say, my eyes slowly trailing over her as I take in her appearance.

She's wearing a cropped, sage-green tank top that hugs her figure perfectly, paired with low-rise, vintage '90s jeans cinched with a thick, chunky belt. Gold chains glint around her neck and wrists, catching the dim light. Her makeup is light, her skin glowing with a dewy finish that makes her look effortlessly radiant. Even dressed casually, she looks like she belongs in a magazine spread.

Ava's cheeks flush under my gaze, and she clears her throat awkwardly. "Yeah... I don't know what I'd do without them," she says, shifting slightly. "So... do you want me to drive? Since I've got the new whip and all."

I groan dramatically, rolling my eyes. "Please, never call this clown car 'a whip' again," I say, opening the door and awkwardly folding myself into the tiny seat. The car, while perfect for someone petite like Ava, feels like a toy next to my frame.

"I'll make you walk," she warns with a smirk as I struggle to buckle in, slouching low in my seat to avoid hitting my head on the roof. After a moment of fiddling with the buttons, she retracts the roof, giving me some much-needed headroom. The cool evening air rushes in, sharp against my skin, but it's better than feeling trapped.