Page 155 of Play Fake
I sit at my desk, thumb hovering over my phone. Beck texted me earlier asking if I wanted to come over after he got back from seeing Logan, and I hadn’t answered yet.
I glance over at Ava. “Hey,” I say softly. “Beck asked if I wanted to come by tonight. Is it okay if I tell him what happened? Just so he understands why I’m staying here?”
She shifts under the blanket, peeking out just enough to nod. “Yeah. I trust you. You can tell him.”
I squeeze her hand lightly. “Okay.”
Then I open our chat.
Hey, sorry for not answering earlier.
Beck: don’t apologize, Prescott. you okay?
I’m okay. But I need to stay with Ava tonight.
Beck: yeah? what’s going on?
I hesitate for half a second, then type:
She… had a rough day. Coleson hurt her. Like physically. We went to the health center tonight, and she filed a report. She’s okay now, but I don’t want to leave her alone.
The three dots pop up almost immediately.
Beck: holy shit. is she safe right now?
Yeah. She’s in bed, staying with me. They put a no-contact order in place, and campus security is looped in. She’s exhausted, though.
Beck: I’m glad she has you. seriously.
I exhale slowly, my shoulders relaxing a little.
I didn’t want you to think I was bailing on you or anything.
Beck: you’re good, pretty girl. you don’t have to explain. she needs you tonight.
Beck: I’ll see you tomorrow. we are about to head in to see Logan.
My chest warms, but I’m also worried about what the surgeons learned during Logan’s operation.
You’ll have to let me know what you find out.
Beck: I will. I’ll text you later, ok?
I set my phone on the nightstand and turn off the lamp. Ava’s breathing is already evening out across the room. I lie back against my pillow, letting the quiet settle in.
Tonight isn’t just heartbreaking, it’s clarifying. Watching Ava find her voice, standing beside her through it, solidifies that I made the right choice for my future career. This is why I want to do what I’m studying for. To be the person who steps in when someone’s caught in something bigger than themselves.
For children caught in the middle. For teens. For strong women like Ava who need someone to stand with them in solidarity. For anyone who needs it.
49
BECK
Ishove my hands into the pockets of my hoodie as I walk through the automatic doors, my stomach twisting in a way that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the guy I’m here to see.
Logan’s surgery is finally finished. ACL. MCL. Meniscus. Triple tear. They’d been waiting for the swelling to go down before they operated, and I haven’t seen him since it happened. He didn’t want anyone around before, but now that it’s over, I’m not staying away.
The orthopedic wing is quiet, my footsteps echoing down the hallway as I round the corner toward the waiting room—and then I stop dead.
