Between Two Worlds

CHAPTER 8 - A Return to Reality

The morning I would leave Willow Creek dawned gray, like my mood. Gray and overcast, maybe even a little foamy across the horizon. Good enough for someone whose emotions were about to swirl inside her, reminding her that leaving Ava stung, too much. Mixed feelings sent my stomach swirling with a tiny whiff of anxious anxiety as I thought back about returning to Grandview. Aching memories curled around me as I mechanically stuffed my belongings into my bag, every item firing up memories of the summer that had changed everything.

I looked out the window of Jess's car as she drove us away, familiar landscapes blurring by like a fading memory. Every mile felt heavier, and with each passing moment, this reality of separation was pressing down on my heart. What would it mean for us? Could we really navigate our feelings when we are miles apart?

"You good?" Jess's voice cut through the dreaminess that held me in its clutches, and I turned to see her concern etched on her face.

"Yeah, just ... thinking," I replied, forcing a smile that did not quite reach my eyes.

"About Ava?" she guessed, and I nodded. I had come to the realization that it felt like an open secret between us now-the weight of my feelings too heavy to deny.

As we drove deep into the center of Grandview, a familiar rush of homecoming mixed with impending dread washed through my veins. Throngs of people on the streets, the chatter of returning students to campus, all was so vibrant yet I felt like an outsider looking in at it all. Aching for the quiet intimacy of those moments by Ava's side, when the world melted away and it was just the two of us.

Once in my room, those walls seemed to close around me, with laughter and warmth on every corner that I had turned my back on in Willow Creek. In that moment, I sent a text to Ava- my heart was racing to type out that small message: Hey, got into Grandview. Miss you already.

I hit send and stared at my screen as those long seconds became an eternity. What if she didn't respond? What if this was the last thread connecting us?
Minutes later, my phone buzzed. Miss you too. Can we talk soon? Relief washed over me, but with it came the weight of our unspoken worries.

And as we finally decided to meet, I was both excited and afraid. We agreed to head out to this small café off-campus for some quiet little place where we might get some semblance of privacy. As soon as I walked in, my heart started racing. Would this conversation bring us closer together, or would it deepen the chasm between us?

And there was Ava, sitting at the small table against the wall, her face a melting pot of hopes and apprehensions. I caught my breath, as I set eyes on her. She is so beautiful, and for that one moment, the cacophony of the café receded, leaving just her.

"Mia!" she said, suddenly pushing aside her nervousness with a bright smile. My heart flutters as I hear my name in her mouth.

"Hey, Ava," I said, sliding into the chair across from her. The air crackled with unspoken words, our connection palpable yet strained.

"How's it going?" she asked softly, hesitantly.

I hesitated, wanting to say something more than ordinary platitudes. "It has been.different. So very much have I missed you."

"I miss you too," she admitted, looking down to the table. "Things at home have been rough since... well, since that day."

"What have they said?" I asked softly, leaning closer.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "They keep bringing up my future, pushing me toward the career they want. It's like they don't see me at all. I'm so tired of pretending."

"I can't even imagine how hard that must be," I said, my heart aching for her. "You should be able to do anything you want to do. You are an amazing artist."

She brightened ever so briefly at the compliment, and then dulled again. "Thanks, but it's like being caught between wanting to do this and what they want me to do. I don't want to let them down, but neither do I want to lose myself."

You're not alone in this, I said reassuringly, my voice steady. "We'll figure this thing out together."

Ava looked up at me now, her eyes repeating a glimmer of hope. "Do you really think so?

"Absolutely," I said. "I care about you too much to just walk away." I meant every word. "But I also don't want to add to your stress. If keeping things low-key is what you need right now, I'm okay with that."

She smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I think that might be for the best," she said. "I just wish things were easier."

"Me too," I said, my heart heavy at the weight of our situation. "But I don't want to lose what we have. You're important to me, Ava."

Her hand instinctively reached out for mine, and the warmth of her touch rushed comfort through me. "You mean a lot to me too, Mia. I just wish my parents could understand."

"Maybe someday they will," I said, tightening my fingers about her hand. "But until then, let's take this one step at a time. We don't have to rush anything."

"I like that idea," she said, a soft smile returning to her face. "Can we make a plan for the weekends? Just us?"

"Absolutely," I said, feeling a swell of happiness at the thought. "Let's make the most of the time we have."

As we kept talking, lines etched between us by the tensions over our situations began to seep away, dissolving into laughter that wrapped us together again for at least a few moments. We reminisced over favorite summer memories; the weight of worry lightened a little.

"Still, can't believe you really stood up to your parents like that," I said, shaking my head in admiration. "That was just so brave of you."

Ava blushed, a trace of pride flashing over her face. "It felt like finally I was coming out. But then the fear came in, you know? Do not want to lose their support."

"It is pretty hard to balance," I told her with my voice full of understanding. "I am here for you. No matter what happens.".

The whole café buzzed around us; we found ourselves still in our small space then.

It was indeed tough when we really had to leave each other. Mixed emotions filled my heart. I wanted to cling on to it, to fight for it, but I knew that love wasn't all about passion; it was patience, understanding, and sometimes giving up.

I lay in bed in my room, staring at the ceiling, wide-eyed, just feeling the crushing weight of uncertainty on me. It had opened a door to something beautiful over this summer, but reality was such that we'd have to come back to it-meaning the complexity of our lives was looming ahead.

But still, below, a spark remained. Ava and I were on an adventure, one that would test our strength, our will, for which I was ready, step by step.