Chapter 19: Slipping Control (Ava in Leo’s Body)
Chapter 19: Slipping Control (Ava in Leo’s Body)
Ava in Leo’s Body (POV)
I’m in the rehearsal studio, Leo’s guitar slung across his chest, my fingers, his fingers, stumbling through the opening chords of “Static Dreams.” The strings bite into his calluses, and his heart gives a faint skip, a reminder of Dr. Mercer’s warning to take it easy. Noah’s tuning his bass across the room, but his eyes keep flicking to me, sharp and curious, like he’s trying to crack a code. Riley’s at her drums, twirling a stick, oblivious for now. Blackwave Records is coming to watch us tomorrow, and the pressure’s making my hands, his hands, sweat. The “Echo” video is still circling campus, with people whispering about “the girl with Leo’s voice,” and I’m barely keeping it together.
“Yo, Leo,” Noah says, setting his bass down. He leans against an amp, arms crossed. “What’s with you lately? You’re playing like you forgot how to hold a guitar, but then you drop that ‘Echo’ song out of nowhere? You holding out on us?”
I force a laugh, Leo’s laugh, deep and cocky. “Just trying new stuff, man. Keeping it fresh.” I strum louder, hoping to drown him out, but his stare doesn’t waver.
“Fresh?” He steps closer, voice low so Riley can’t hear. “That ‘Invisible Echoes’ track wasn’t just fresh. It was… personal. Like, not-your-usual-rockstar-vibe personal. And you’ve been weird, quiet, almost nervous. That’s not you, Martinez.”
My heart, his heart, skips again, and I grip the guitar neck to steady myself. “I’m fine, Noah. Just focused on Battle of the Bands. Can we run the setlist?” I nod at Riley, who shrugs and starts a beat.
Noah doesn’t move. “You’re dodging. You know something about Echo, don’t you? That voice sounded too much like you. What’s the deal? You got a secret collaborator or what?”
I swallow, his throat tight. “It’s just a random act. Some open mic kid. Let’s drop it.” I launch into “Static Dreams,” my voice, his voice, rough but steady, trying to channel Leo’s swagger. Riley joins in, but Noah’s slow to pick up his bass, his eyes still on me. I push through the song, hitting the chords cleaner than yesterday, but I can feel him watching, waiting for me to slip.
When we finish, Riley claps her sticks together. “Solid, Leo! That’s the vibe Blackwave’s gonna eat up.” But Noah’s quiet, his fingers lingering on his bass strings, and I know he’s not buying my act.
“Alright, let’s call it,” I say, slinging the guitar off. “See you tomorrow for Blackwave.” I grab Leo’s bag, ready to bolt, but Noah catches my arm, his arm, as I head for the door.
“Leo,” he says, voice low. “If something’s up, you can tell me. We’ve been through too much for you to shut me out.”
I force a grin, his grin. “Nothing’s up, man. Just gotta nail this gig.” I pull away, his heart racing, and slip out before he can press harder.
I’m at Flat Fifth, nursing a coffee I don’t want, when my phone, Leo’s phone, buzzes. A text from Leo: Jade caught me crying at practice. She’s freaking out. Thinks I’m breaking down. Meet at music building, midnight? My stomach twists. Crying? Leo’s tough, even in my body, but I know my shoulder’s been killing him, and Jade’s relentless. I text back: Noah’s onto me. Thinks I’m hiding something about Echo. I’m okay, but we’re slipping. Midnight, yeah.
I set the phone down, rubbing his temples. Noah’s suspicions are bad enough, but if Jade’s worried about “me,” we’re in deeper trouble. I’m about to head to the music building when another text comes through, this one from Riley: Forum’s going crazy about Echo. They’re saying it’s you with a voice changer. Blackwave’s hyped. You good? I groan, tossing the phone into his bag. This “Echo” thing is spiraling, and I’m not sure how much longer we can keep it contained.
The music building’s basement is our haven, but tonight it feels like a pressure cooker. I slip in just after midnight, Leo’s guitar case banging against his hip. Leo’s already there, in my body, sitting on the floor with my volleyball, his eyes, my eyes, red and puffy. My heart, his heart, clenches at the sight. I drop the case and kneel next to him, his knees brushing mine, my knees.
“You okay?” I ask, his voice soft. “What happened with Jade?”
He wipes my face with my sleeve, sniffing. “Practice was a disaster. I couldn’t dig, couldn’t serve, your shoulder’s like a knife in my arm. I just… lost it. Started crying in the locker room. Jade saw me and flipped.” He looks up, my eyes glistening. “She thinks you’re having a breakdown, Ava. Like, burnout or worse. She cornered me after, wouldn’t let me leave.”
I wince, his heart skipping. “What’d you tell her?”
He tosses the volleyball, catching it hard. “I said it’s stress. The scholarship trial, family stuff. But she’s not buying it. She kept saying, ‘This isn’t you, Ava. You’re too strong for this.’ She’s worried, like, really worried. Wants me to see a counselor.”
I sit back, his long legs folding awkwardly. “Crap. And Noah’s sniffing around too. Thinks I’m hiding something about Echo. He cornered me at rehearsal, said I’m acting ‘weird.’ Blackwave’s coming tomorrow, and they’re obsessed with that song.”
He looks up, my face pale. “They love it, don’t they? Our song.”
I nod, strumming an imaginary chord on his knee. “Yeah. But they think it’s me, or you, pulling some stunt. If they figure out I’m not you…”
He grabs my hand, his hand, stopping me. “They won’t. You’re killing it as me, Ava. I saw the rehearsal video Noah sent. You’re better at being Leo than I am sometimes.”
I laugh, his laugh shaky. “And you’re trying so hard to be me. But crying? That’s not like you, Leo.”
He shrugs, my shoulders hunching. “It’s your body. It’s like… it feels everything you do. The shoulder, the pressure from your mom, the trial. I get why you hide it now. You’re not just strong, you’re stupidly brave.”
I blush, his cheeks warming. “Says the guy who’s been dodging a heart condition to chase a record deal. You’re not exactly a coward, Martinez.”
He smiles, my smile soft, and tosses the volleyball at me. “Alright, coach. Teach me to dig without breaking your arm. I’m not letting Jade bench you.”
I catch the ball, standing. “Deal. But you’re showing me how to fake your stage swagger. Noah’s watching too close.” I toss the ball, light and easy. “Knees bent, platform steady. Move with the ball.”
He crouches, my body awkward but focused, and dives as I toss. The ball clips his arms, my arms, and bounces off, but it’s closer than yesterday. “Better,” I say, tossing again. “Keep your eyes on it.”
He tries again, nailing a shaky dig, and I cheer, his voice loud in the basement. “That’s it! You’re getting it!”
He grins, my grin, and stands, rubbing my shoulder. “Your turn, rockstar. Show me that ‘Echo’ vibe. Play our song.”
I grab his guitar, strumming the opening of “Invisible Echoes.” My voice, his voice, starts low, raw. “Hiding in plain sight, screaming in the quiet…” He joins in, my voice blending with his, and for a moment, it’s just us, singing our truth. We finish, breathless, and he’s staring, my eyes wet again.
“That’s us,” he says, voice soft. “That’s who we are.”
I set the guitar down, his heart racing. “Yeah. But Jade and Noah, they’re too close. We’re slipping, Leo.”
He nods, picking up the volleyball. “Then we fight harder. I’ll be you, you be me. We protect each other, right?”
“Right,” I say, standing. “One more dig. Then you show me how to charm Blackwave tomorrow.”
We train, him diving, me strumming, but the air’s heavy with Jade’s worry and Noah’s suspicions. His phone buzzes, another text from Noah: Blackwave’s hyped for tomorrow. You better bring that Echo energy. Spill, man, who is she? I show it to Leo, and he groans, my voice tight.
“Let him wonder,” he says, tossing the ball. “We’ve got this.”
I nod, but as we pack up, slipping out separately into the night, I feel control slipping. Jade’s watching him, Noah’s watching me, and our secrets are unraveling faster than we can catch them.