After Logan had danced his fill, rocked more girls than he could count, and laughed until his sides hurt, he finally slumped against a wall near the bar, feeling the buzz catch up with him.
He was a little tipsy now — not wasted, just floating.
Yet even with the alcohol humming through his blood, his mind kept drifting back to Ava.
That soft smile.
Those big, curious eyes.
The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was nervous.
Logan ran a hand through his hair and chuckled to himself.
Damn. Tonight really got interesting, he thought again, his smirk widening lazily.
But meanwhile—
Earlier, just as Ava and Hanna left the rooftop…
Ava stormed ahead, her heels clicking angrily on the pavement, while Hanna followed, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Ava whirled around so fast Hanna almost bumped into her.
"What the hell, Hanna?" Ava snapped. "You're always on my case about getting out, meeting new people, being happy again. Then the minute I'm actually talking to someone, you show up looking like you want to commit murder!"
Hanna rolled her eyes dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder like a soap opera villain.
"I want you to be happy, Ava. But not with him. Logan is…bad news."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "And who crowned you the Queen of Bad-News Spotting?"
"You don't need a crown to smell bullshit," Hanna shot back, hands on her hips.
Ava laughed humorlessly. "Oh, come on. It's not like we're dating. We were just talking. Jesus, Hanna, you acted like you caught us making out on the balcony."
Hanna's face twisted like she just bit into a lemon. "God forbid. He's not worth it, Ava."
"And how exactly would you know?" Ava demanded. "Did you two have a thing? Is that why you're freaking out like a maniac?"
Hanna hesitated—a fraction of a second, barely visible, but Ava caught it.
"Ohhh," Ava said, dragging out the word, her voice sharp. "So that's it? You had a thing with him? You're jealous."
"Jealous?!" Hanna barked a bitter laugh. "Me? Jealous of Logan Carter? Please, girl, I'd rather date a diseased raccoon!"
"Then why the theatrics?" Ava shot back, stepping closer. "You always told me you wanted the best for me, Hanna. Well guess what, you don't get to pick who makes me happy!"
Hanna's nostrils flared. "I'm trying to protect you because you clearly don't see the red flags waving in your face!"
"Maybe I'm tired of seeing red flags in everyone," Ava shouted. "Maybe I just want to live again without you dragging your baggage into it!"
They stood there, two angry statues glaring at each other, breathless and furious.
Finally, Hanna shook her head, disgusted.
"You know what? Whatever. Do what you want, Ava. Clearly you know everything."
She spun on her heel and stomped toward the parking lot.
Ava crossed her arms tightly over her chest, blinking back the sting of tears.
She watched Hanna unlock her car with a sharp beep, slam the door, and roar off without even glancing back.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ava sighed and pulled her jacket tighter around herself.
Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs—not just from the argument, but from the gnawing emptiness that followed it.
"Good job, Ava," she muttered to herself. "You've lost your mind, your best friend, and probably your ride home."
She sniffed, wiped under her eyes angrily, and turned toward the nearby subway station.
Screw it. She could take the train. It wasn't that late yet.
Besides, the cold night air was better than the suffocating mess back at the party.
As Ava trudged down the cracked sidewalk toward the train station, she wrapped her arms around herself, not just from the night chill but from the weird ache settling heavy in her chest.
Maybe Hanna was right, she thought bitterly.
Maybe Logan Carter is trouble.
Maybe he was the type of guy who left a trail of broken hearts and stupid girls like her behind him.
Or maybe…maybe he wasn't.
Ava exhaled a shaky breath, her boots scuffing along the ground.
Is he a bad guy? she wondered. Or maybe he's a good guy who's made bad choices?
She tilted her head up, staring at the stars blurred by the city lights.
At this point, she honestly didn't know anymore.
She stopped by a bench outside the train station and sank down with a heavy sigh, dropping her shopping bags by her feet.
Her reflection stared back at her in the glass door ahead — same wide brown eyes, same messy curls falling over her face, same tired, worn-out heart.
"I don't even care anymore," Ava muttered aloud, not caring if anyone thought she was crazy.
"I really don't."
She laughed to herself, a hollow, bitter little sound.
"I mean, the good guys? They turn bad," she said under her breath.
"And the bad ones? Sometimes, they turn good."
Her hands twisted the straps of one of her shopping bags absently as she kept rambling to herself.
"So what's the point of worrying if he's good or bad? I just met him," she said, her voice rising slightly with the swell of emotion.
"Why the hell is there already so much drama over someone who literally just smiled at me for a few minutes?"
Her throat tightened.
"And Hanna…Hanna was supposed to be the one person who had my back. No judgement. No drama. But tonight—tonight she looked at me like I was making the biggest mistake of my life."
She blinked rapidly, fighting the sting at the back of her eyes.
"I mean, who does she think she is? My mom? God? Some fortune teller who knows every man's heart?"
She sniffed, wiping the corner of her eye roughly.
"No. She's just my best friend. Or…she was."
The thought made her heart throb painfully.
Ava leaned her head back against the bench and closed her eyes.
Maybe it was the emotions of the night, or the fact that she hadn't truly dealt with the heartbreak of Malcom yet.
Or maybe it was just loneliness, raw and ugly, gnawing at her from the inside.
Whatever it was, she couldn't deny one thing:
There was something about Logan Carter that pulled at her, like a thread she couldn't stop tugging.
And even if it was stupid…even if it led to another scar…
For once, Ava didn't want to overthink it.
She didn't want to let fear—or even friendship—hold her back.
She just wanted to feel alive again.
The train rumbled in the distance, and she stood up slowly, gathering her bags.
She squared her shoulders, wiped her face, and set her chin high.
Maybe tomorrow, she'd regret everything.
But tonight…
Tonight, she was going to let herself breathe.
Ava settled into one of the empty seats on the quiet late-night train, her shopping bags tucked carefully beside her. The hum of the train moving on the tracks was oddly soothing, like a soft lullaby whispering through the darkness.
She leaned her head against the cool window, the city lights blurring into long streaks of gold and silver as they sped past. She let her eyes flutter shut for a moment, breathing in and out slowly, deeply.
Tonight, she was going to let herself breathe.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn't going to replay Malcom's lies in her head. She wasn't going to list every stupid mistake she made. She wasn't going to drown in guilt or sadness or the heavy ache of loneliness.
No. Tonight, she was going to feel something different.
Something lighter.
Something…free.
Her mind wandered back—back to the rooftop, to the way Logan had turned and smiled at her, cigarette dangling from his fingers, a little crooked, a little mischievous, like he had a thousand secrets tucked behind those lazy brown eyes.
She grinned to herself at the memory.
The way he said, "Well, hello, beautiful lady," like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she wasn't just some girl trying to hold herself together.
And the way he stubbed out the cigarette without hesitation — just for her.
As if her presence alone was enough reason to change a bad habit.
Ava chuckled softly to herself, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
That kind of small gesture shouldn't mean so much… but somehow it did. It wasn't grand or dramatic. It was just—kind. Thoughtful in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time.
Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless to even be thinking about him after only one meeting.
But wasn't that what she needed right now?
To stop being so careful all the time?
To just let life happen for once?
The train rocked gently, and Ava tilted her head back against the seat, letting the motion lull her.
She pictured his smirk again, the way he leaned casually on the railing, looking like he didn't belong at the party either. Like maybe, just maybe, they were both a little out of place in this messy world.
And God, his voice.
That low, lazy, confident drawl that somehow made her stomach flip and her chest ache at the same time.
A small, dreamy smile pulled at her lips.
Maybe Hanna was right to be worried.
Maybe Logan Carter was a heartache waiting to happen.
But right now…
Right now, Ava didn't want to be scared of another broken heart.
She wanted to remember what it felt like to be wanted, to be seen.
To believe—even if just for one night—that maybe something good could still find her.
As the train rumbled closer to her stop, Ava hugged her coat tighter around herself and whispered under her breath, a soft promise to no one but herself:
"Tomorrow can worry about itself. Tonight… tonight, I'm going to dream."
And for the first time in a long time, Ava Morgan smiled for no reason at all.