Keeping Promises

Ava's bedroom looked exactly like the kind of room an eighteen-year-old girl would build when she was trying to figure out who she wanted to be. String lights curled around the headboard. Makeup sat scattered across the vanity in little expensive-looking piles. Half a dozen birthday cards leaned against the mirror beside a cheap plastic tiara Sophia had jokingly insisted she wear during cake. A pile of clothes occupied the desk chair despite the existence of both a closet and a laundry basket.

And right in the middle of all of it sat Ava, cross-legged on her bed, staring at her phone like it contained state secrets.

Technically, the day had gone well. Better than well, honestly.

The party at the community centre had actually turned out kind of perfect. Her grandparents had fussed over her nonstop. Her mum and dad had somehow managed to occupy the same room without passive-aggressively sniping at each other. Friends from school showed up. People laughed. People danced. Zoe had cried because somebody ate the last brownie she wanted, which honestly just made the whole thing feel more official somehow.

Eighteen.

Legal adult.

Actual grown-up.

The number still felt weird in her head.

Ava leaned back against the wall and stretched her legs across the bed, toes flexing absently against the comforter. The leather skirt she'd worn earlier hung over the edge of the laundry hamper now, replaced by oversized sleep shorts and one of those giant university hoodies she'd stolen from her dad years ago.

Ricky had texted her twice since she'd gotten home.

Ricky: Had fun tonight babe

Ricky: you okay? you seemed distracted near the end

Ava grimaced faintly at the screen. Distracted. Yeah. That was one word for it.

It wasn't Ricky's fault. That part kept circling back around in her head no matter how guilty she felt about everything else. Ricky wasn't some awful boyfriend. He wasn't cruel or stupid or gross. Honestly, compared to most guys their age, Ricky was kind of impressive. Good hair. Nice jawline. Played hockey. Smelled good. Remembered important dates.

Very solid boyfriend material.

For high school.

The problem was that somewhere along the line, without warning, Roy had walked into her life and completely ruined boys for her.Because Ricky looked like a teenager. Roy looked like a man. The difference hit harder every time she thought about it.

Roy had weight on him. A stomach. Thinning hair. Laugh lines near his eyes. The kind of body that belonged to somebody who'd actually lived a life instead of just posting gym selfies pretending to have one. Even the way he dressed felt different. Comfortable. Mature. Like he didn't need to audition for attention every second of the day.

God, it was hot.

Ava rolled onto her stomach and buried her face briefly into her pillow with a muffled groan. This was insane. Completely insane. And also absolutely right.

The whole thing with him missing the birthday party still annoyed her too. Not at Roy. Never at Roy. But the fact that she'd had to keep him away because Ricky might get jealous? Embarrassing. Actually embarrassing.

She was eighteen now. A full adult. Legally. Officially. Entirely. If she wanted to date an older man, then she could date an older man. Simple.

Her parents might freak out a little at first, sure. Dad especially. Ava could already picture the exact expression he'd make if she brought Roy home for dinner. Somewhere between cardiac arrest and attempted ****.

Still.

They'd get over it.

Eventually.

And honestly? Once they actually met Roy, how could they not like him? He was sweet. Thoughtful. Funny in that awkward way that made her want to kiss him even harder. Being around him felt safe in a way she'd never really experienced before. Like no matter how chaotic the world got, Roy would steady it just by standing nearby.

That mattered. Way more than abs.

Her phone lit again.

Ricky: u still awake?

Ava stared at the notification for three full seconds before tossing the phone beside her dramatically.

"Ugh," she groaned aloud to the empty room.

No. Not tonight. Tomorrow she would deal with Ricky. Tomorrow she would have the awkward conversation and do the mature adult thing and officially end it properly. Tonight belonged to Roy.

Besides, she'd promised him something.

A slow grin spread across her face as she grabbed the phone again and unlocked it, and started typing, fingers suddenly moving much faster. Messenger opened. Roy's name typed in like she'd done it a million times before. Just seeing his name on the screen sent a warm little rush through her stomach.

God.

Okay. What was she even supposed to say? Happy birthday to me, come unwrap your gift? Too much. Probably. Maybe.

Ava chewed lightly on her lower lip while typing half a sentence, deleting it, typing another, deleting that too. Then she flopped dramatically backward across the mattress again, phone clutched to her chest.

"Why am I nervous?" she muttered at the ceiling.

Because she liked him. No. Worse than liked. Wanted. Needed.

Loved.

Excitement fizzed under her skin so intensely she could barely stay still. Finally, she rolled over and started typing again.

Ava: Hey birthday present

Nope.

Delete.

Another try.

Ava: I still owe you for missing my birthday party.

Pause.

Ava smiled to herself. Better. Her thumbs kept moving.

Ava: And I always keep my promises.