When an aspect of your life alters in the slightest way, it will never be the same again. Especially once you've accustomed yourself to living a certain way, passing the days at your own pace.

So, imagine Ava Lockhart walking into school with Davis Banks, the schools notorious clown. This time, it wasn't a joke.

I clenched my fists in concern as the stares indirectly probed my conscience, shoulders as tense as a soldier. Nobody would bother to say anything, especially after the fire had blazed with Woody. That was good.

"God Avacado, I can almost hear you creak." Davis soothed my ear mockingly.

"Sorry," I murmured hesitantly, "I don't even know why I care about what they think."

"You don't need to," He grabbed my clammy palm in motivation, "Focus on me."

I raised my eyebrows in amusement as we approached the cloned array of lockers, "Oh believe me, I am."

"You are?" He repeated sceptically, "So why do I not have a nickname?"

I paused before chuckling, "That's your main concern?"

"Oh yes," He shrugged his shoulders, "As well as the chaos of all the environment."

With the right books in the grasp of my arms, I turned to gaze into his eyes. They were genuine and glistened with a reassuring warmth.
I didn't need to be scared, because I knew from the depth of my gut that he was the one I wanted to spend each fragment of my time with.

"What else shall I call you? Dave?" I suggested, before snorting.

As we moved to our English lesson, he glared at me, "I'm not small, yellow and squeaky."

"Such a shame." I joked, before seriously thinking of a nickname for him.

"Ah, just in time." Mr Chester smiled with a passion that decreased his sincerity, "Take your seats and think about the question on the board."

I glanced at the board before smiling in greeting at Dina, who mouthed, "Big day."

My cheeks instantly warmed as I nodded my head and shyly averted my eyes. For some reason, when anyone acknowledged our relationship, I found it even more unreal.

As I opened up my English Literature workbook, I glanced at the interactive board that glared back at me.
How does Shakespeare demonstrate the theme of corruption in 'Hamlet'?
Write down a list of different points you could make with your partner.

I pushed down the tip of my pen before clearing my throat and looking towards Davis. He was already staring at me, with eyes that twinkled with enthusiasm and a teasing smirk.

"What?" I bit down on my lips as they reacted to his contagious smile.

"Corruption is shown through Hamlet's innuendos in his dialogue to Ophelia during Act Three." He raised his eyebrows and I instantly rolled my eyes.

"Of course you would think of that," I murmured as I wrote down the idea, "Political and natural corruption through Claudius breaking the Great Chain of Being."

"Very nice." Mr Chester approvingly noted as he passed us.

"Corruption of sanity, the antic disposition." Davis raised his eyebrows at me, challenging my ideas.

"Corruption of health, the motif of disease." I countered.

"Coruption of class, you can talk about Ophelia's burial."

I smiled to myself, "That's a good one."

Davis seemed satisfied at my response, and proudly grinned.

As Mr Chester began asking for the class to share their ideas, I felt a pressure on my finger. Gazing down, I observed Davis' index finger that was playing with my midi ring. He slowly traced the arrow pattern continuously in distraction, not noticing the confused expression of my face as I stared at him.

"Davis!" His hand jolted away at the sudden attention, "If you're done marvelling at Ava's ring, would you be able to contribute?"

Our class chuckled as Davis cleared his throat, "Sorry sir, I was thinking of a quote from Hamlet."

"Really?" Our teacher clearly wasn't falling into any excuses, "what would what be?"

Davis turned his head back towards me, and directly stared into my eyes as if I was the only member of the class. "Here's metal more attractive."

I narrowed my eyebrows in shock at his candid reply, and then covered up my burning cheeks as the class invented loud sounds that included hollers.

Amidst the sudden sound, Davis decided that he should shuffle his chair closer to me, his thigh pressing against mine.

"You're a menace." I managed to whisper in embarrassment whilst staring down at the inked black words of my notes.

"I'm your menace." He corrected.

"You're more cheesy than Davina's paneer." I scoffed.

"Guilty." He admitted; brushing his hand against mine.

Maybe he would make my lessons more interesting.

~

I fidgeted with the orange in my palm, pressing against its soft skin and fearing the point where it would burst open. There were thousands of bumps that skimmed passed my fingers, but in a snatch I was left clutching air.

"Earth to Avacado."

"Thanks Mum," I sighed sarcastically, "You've got him on your side."

She shook her dark locks of hair in bemusement, "I'm glad he can tell right from wrong."

"So you'll do it?" Davis gazed at me and I shook my head.

"I don't want to see that man. Period." I firmly crossed my arms, glaring at the both of them.

Davis tossed the orange upwards, "Don't you want him to know how much he's hurt you?"

I drummed my fingernails onto the marble counter, listening to the satisfying tapping sound. "Not if I have to get hurt in that process."

"Haven't you already learnt the rewards of taking the right risks?" Mum enquired, slinging her handbag over her right shoulder.

"I know you two have valid points, but he's moulded all of the past for me, and I don't know if I'm ready to start perceiving it in a new way." I defended my choice, leaning my head onto my arms in exhaustion.

Mum frowned but her own mind was grinding its gears, and eventually she sighed deeply. "Davis, use those persuasive powers."

As Mum grabbed the car keys, Davis saluted "You got it."

"I won't be too long, maybe two hours? There's a chicken pie in the oven if you get hungry," Mum patted my disheartened head, "I'll see you two later!"

"Bye Heather." Davis grinned, waving at my mother as I returned the gesture with a weak smile.

She walked through the passage, closing the house door behind her as my Mum sped off to a fancy work dinner.

"I can't believe she trusts you." I turned to look at Davis, then stretched.

He raised his eyebrows, "It took me enough time to get to you, I think I deserve a break."

I chuckled then grabbed his hand, "Let's go find Momo."

"You really don't want to talk about it?" Davis asked me as I called for my pet.

As I began climbing our stairs I responded, "Davis there are so many better things for us to converse about."

"Your mum's going to be disappointed." He reluctantly followed me as I entered my room, sinking into the softness of my mattress.

"Where is that cat?" I sighed, "Momo!"

Davis sat beside me, then raised his head to my ceiling in silence.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

The boy shook his head, "Nah, it's nothing. Your room just looks incomplete with that bare ceiling."

"Another reason to be annoyed at that father." I dryly responded, avoiding eyecontact with the emptiness, "But enough about me."

Davis peered back at me in curiousity, and I continued, "I want to hear more about you."

I could practically feel his goofy smile burning my cheeks as they sizzled red, "What specifically?"

I bit my lip, talking to him about personal matters made me slightly wary, but it wasn't fair that he always comforted me.

"Anything, honestly Davis, I want to reciprocate your support."

"You already do that, idiot." He smirked and quickly swept a kiss onto my forehead.

"But I want to understand," I fiddled with my fingers, "You know every angle of me."

"Sure, I'm an open book," he motioned his hands outwards.

I paused hesitantly, not wanting to let my first question dig too deep into closed off territory. Should I ask?

"Ava?" He called out my name and I looked back up, our eyes locked and I slowly felt the confidence drip into my veins.

Clearing my throat, I released the words, "Why did your Mum leave?"

Davis raised his eyebrows and then chuckled, "Why am I not surprised you went for the heaviest question?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I think your favourite colour can wait."

"Okay." He looked down at his lap, then heaved a sigh, "She didn't plan for Mimi. She was blunt, when she didn't care it showed. She used to neglect Mimi, completely shove her to my Dad and then act as if everything was normal to me."

"But it wasn't normal to you, was it?" I inferred.

"No," He shook his head and scowled, "I lose my temper in place for my cool-headed dad, Mimi means the world to me and it was just disgusting."

I tangled my fingers around his, "And she never tried to get counselling, or try to accept Mimi?"

"No. When she realised that her image was spoiled in my eyes, she left. I don't think that woman ever understood the meaning of parenthood."

Davis leant his head onto my shoulder and I could hear the vulnerability in his voice. "There was one day...I remember from when I was about twelve. I came back from school, Dad was at work but she was home. I just remember her opening the door for me, and the sound of Mimi crying just erupted into my ears."

We was wincing, I could feel it.

"I won't ever forget that sound. Even though she tried to smother up Mimi's crying by locking her in the bathroom, I could still hear it."

"That's terrible," I wrapped my arms around him in sorrow, "Does Mimi remember any of this?"

"I don't think so; she's suppressed those memories."

"But you're stuck with them." I murmured softly, "How does that leave you feeling?"

"Honestly, I've had a hard time trusting people, yet at the same time I want to constantly maintain peace. I constantly think that I can find comfort through being liked, but then I get uneasy because I think everyone I care about will leave. Just like she did."

I didn't know what to say. I never wanted Davis to feel like I would leave him. But what if I did? What if it wasn't in my control? What if I died, and slipped out of his trust forever?

I couldn't bring myself to ask him what the consequence of my possibilities might result in, so I didn't. Instead, I leaned my head against his in silence, our cheeks pressed together.

"By the way, my favourite colour is red. Sort of like the shade you turn into whenever I touch you."