Ava still wore the button-down shirt with pink flowers. But she looked perfect. They must’ve adjusted her head gauze at some point because I distinctly remembered her tape last night being pink, and now it was yellow.
I wasn’t sure if I should knock or clear my throat or hope the laser beams of my eyes would make her look up. I couldn’t see much of the room, just the slice that had her in it.
But she was oblivious to me.
I waited another beat, then I couldn’t stand it. “Ava. Hey.”
Her head popped up, her gaze meeting mine.
“I’m so glad you’re all right.” Everything about her was exactly as I remembered. Those bright eyes. Long legsin denim shorts. Instead of shoes, she wore the hospital-issue nubby-footed socks.
As her head tilted, surveying me in her doorway, my knees went liquid. I wanted her to be happy to see me.
But her words dashed my hopes.
“Do I know you?”
Crap. She didn’t remember me. That sometimes happened. I often lost the ten or fifteen minutes right before a seizure. We’d barely met before she went down.
A woman approached the head of the bed. Probably her mother. She had the same brown hair, only cut more severely near her chin. Her eyes bore into me like she was contemplating stabbing me with a cafeteria fork. “Ava can’t have guests.”
I didn’t want to cause Ava any distress. But moms were moms and this one definitely seemed overprotective.
“I understand, ma’am,” I said, but that didn’t stop me from speaking to Ava anyway. “I wanted to see you again. There’s a?—”
The mother cut me off. “Please leave.”
My gut clenched. I wasn’t going to be deterred until I took my shot.
Ava gazed up at her mom, then back at me, like she was trying to work this out.
“Are you my boyfriend?” she asked.
Of all the things I thought she might say, this wasn’t even on the list. She turned to her mother. “Did you mess with my journal?”
“Of course not,” her mother said.
Now I was worried. The animosity coming off these two could have melted the ice caps.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Ava swung her legs over the edge of the bed andpatted the spot next to her on the mattress. “Youaremy boyfriend. Come over here and let’s make out.”
“Ava!” her mother said. “I never should have let you watch TV!”
This conversation was a surprise a minute. I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I walked in and sat down next to her. She lifted my hand and held it in hers, soft and warm.
“Ava, stop it,” her mother said. “Stop this instant. You don’t even know that boy.” She snatched up the bed remote and pressed the red call button.
DeShawn took a step into the room. “Tucker, let’s go.”
Ava leaned in until our shoulders brushed. “No. I want him here.” She tilted her face up to me, and I was knocked backward by the look of pure hope in her expression. “Are we madly in love?”
If Ava wanted to involve me in some scheme against her mother, I was all in.
“Absolutely,” I told her.
“I thought so.” Ava grabbed my face with both hands. Her lips met mine.
