Wrong Quarterback | ✓

37 | rivalries never die

              One week later, Avery stares out at the ocean from where she's sat in one of the lounge chairs on Ethan's porch. Hearing the wails of a lone bird somewhere above, she finds herself wondering it it has returned for spring already, or if maybe it never moved away for winter in the first place.

Looping her arms around her knees, she rests her chin atop the flat of them as she lets her nose sink into the fabric of the knitted sweater she's in. Her lips curl into a small smile at the scent – it's pure Ethan – melting together with salt of the ocean air.

The past half hour plays out in her mind on a loop. They'll both be here next year.

No one's moving to the Pacific coast. No one's packing up their bags to move thousands of miles and miles away. There's no more worrying of having to do long-distance. They'll both be right here. Not as in Acebridge, but as in North Carolina, a mere hour between them at worst.

The sound of the door sliding open and shut behind her has snaps her out of her thoughts. Turning her head over her shoulder to glance at Ethan, her lips twitch in faint amusement. A small puff of air – disbelief melted together with only somewhat feigned exasperation – leaves her lips.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

Steam rises from the two cups of tea he carries with him as he crosses the porch to come sit down on the other end of the lounge chair. He hands her one of them before placing the other on the porch floor.

"Still processing I see," He leans over to tuck an errant strand of blonde hair behind her ear, a soft laugh leaving his lips as she lifts her shoulders in the smallest shrug. "These are supposed to be good news. We're supposed to be happy about this."

She likes the way he says 'we'. They're young. They haven't been together long, not even a year, she knows that. But they're a 'we'. Still, she doesn't quite give him the satisfaction of seeing her smile, eyes narrowing instead.

"Duke? You're going to Duke?"

She only groans as Ethan's lips crack into a sheepish grin.

At first, upon hearing them this morning – she'd been too busy comprehending his words to realize exactly what he'd been saying. Too busy comprehending the fact he's staying next year, of slowly imagining her plan, dream even, of going to UNC becoming true.

Only as she'd been about to raise the question of the few bad seasons the Tar Heels have on their neck it had dawned on her. Only then had his words melted together with what she had already known. Ethan had gone up to Durham the days before. Not Chapel Hill. Durham.

And here she had thought they were done with rivalries.

Meeting his gaze now, she can't hold back her smile any longer. Her shoulders sink, chest seeming lighter as relief washes over her – tension she hadn't even realized she's been holding dispersing in one swift rush.

She moves to the side of the already narrow seat, lifting her cup to her lips as he twists around and scoots back to sit next to her. "I hate you."

His fingers cold against her skin, he hooks them underneath her chin to bring her lips to his in a kiss. "No you don't."

She lets her forehead fall against his, a breath of air slipping her lips – it's not quite an exhale, not quite a sigh. "I do. But only on principle."

He inches back, lips twitching ever so slightly as he takes her free hand into his own and leans back in the chair. "I guess I can work with that."