PULSE

Chapter Eleven

[ SEPTEMBER 25 ]

The echo of the last bell of the day was still ringing through the halls as I slipped through the front doors of the school. I spotted Ava, already partway down the first flight of stairs when I emerged outside, and immediately sped up my pace, calling her name. She turned quickly toward me, smiling as I rushed to catch up with her, taking the stairs two at a time.

When I came up beside her, her eyes flicked quickly to the stairs that I'd just run down, then back to me, smiling in amusement. "Impressive."

"Only in comparison to you. You would've fallen on your face after three steps," I replied, continuing on nonchalantly as she quickened to match my pace.

"You're being generous," she said, pulling at the straps of her backpack.

I nodded. "Guilty as charged. You wouldn't make it that far. But you're pretty, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

Ava's face reddened and she looked suddenly at the ground, but she couldn't help smiling.

I glanced around us as we continued down the stairs, searching through the different groups of students following the same path off of the campus. When I wasn't able to find who I was looking for, I turned back to Ava.

"Where's Lev?" I asked.

"Working," she replied. "Auntie had some troublemakers at the shop this morning, so he faked a stomach ache and left early to make sure that they didn't come back."

I scoffed. "You think think Lev's intimidating enough to keep anyone away?"

"Hmm? Sure, he is! He's tough! You should see him in a fight. He's scary." As soon as she said this, though, she looked back toward the ground and mumbled, "Don't tell him I said that, though. He fights too much."

"Lev? Who'd fight him?" I asked.

Ava's face fell slightly. "He's well-liked at school, and he's athletic and handsome. Some people don't like people who have things they don't."

My face suddenly drew tightly together, and I turned fully toward her. "Wait, is someone bullying him?"

"No, no. Not really," she said quickly, waving off the question with her hand. "They try, sometimes. But I told you, Lev can be scary when he fights. No one ever gets too far when they mess with him."

An image of Lev the first time I met him surfaced in my mind—one of him with a swollen, black cheek and a bloody lip.

"But it's worse these days," Ava continued. "People know what he's like now. When they want to do anything to him, they come at him in groups. No single person had fend off four others, no matter how good they are."

I thought of all the times since I'd met Lev that I'd seen him hurt—which a black eye, busted lip, or bloody knuckles. I'd never given it much thought. It was easy to be absorbed enough in my own life to not properly notice that he'd spent most of the last few months looking like he was working as a part-time punching bag.

"There's got to be a reason they want to always mess with him like that. It can't just be that they're jealous. Right?" I asked.

Ava shrugged. "I don't know. I just want him to stop fighting. He's too smart to solve his problems with his fists."

I nodded, continuing on without a word. We let a few seconds go by without speaking, and then Ava turned toward me.

"It's almost his birthday, you know. I should get something for him. Do you want to help?"