Chapter 21: Growing Closer (Ava in Leo’s Body)

Ava in Leo’s Body (POV)

I’m behind the wheel of Leo’s beat-up sedan, his long fingers gripping the steering wheel as we weave through the dark roads beyond Crescendo University. The radio’s off, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional skip of his heart in my chest. Leo’s in the passenger seat, in my body, my volleyball hoodie pulled tight around my frame, my ponytail loose from a long day of dodging Jade’s questions. We’re headed to a clearing off campus, a spot Leo swore was perfect for “getting away from all the noise.” My phone, his phone, sits silent in the cupholder, but I know Noah’s probably texting about Blackwave’s visit to rehearsal today, where I barely held it together as “Leo.” Their obsession with “Echo” is making my head spin, and our pact to confess if we don’t switch back by next week hangs heavy.

“You sure this place is worth it?” I ask, his voice rough from singing at rehearsal. I glance at him, my own face staring back, eyes tired but bright. “I’m not in the mood for a hike.”

He laughs, my laugh, soft and a little shaky. “Trust me, Lin. It’s just a clearing by a creek. No hiking. Just… quiet. We need it.” He fiddles with my hoodie strings, my fingers twisting nervously. “Jade almost cornered me again after practice. Said I’m ‘not myself.’ Understatement of the century.”

I snort, his snort, and turn onto a gravel road, the car rattling. “Noah’s worse. Kept asking why my playing’s ‘off’ but my singing’s ‘next-level.’ If he figures out I’m not you…” I trail off, his heart skipping again, and I grip the wheel tighter.

He reaches over, my hand resting on his arm, my arm. “Hey, we’ve got this. One week left. We’ll make it.” His voice, my voice, is steady, but I hear the fear underneath.

The clearing comes into view, a small patch of grass by a trickling creek, lit by moonlight. I park, and we climb out, the cool night air hitting Leo’s skin like a shock. I grab a blanket from the trunk, his trunk, and spread it on the ground, while he pulls a thermos of coffee from my backpack. We settle on the blanket, side by side, my body small next to his lanky frame. The silence feels safe, like the basement but without the pressure of training.

“Okay, Martinez,” I say, leaning back on his elbows, his guitar-callused fingers brushing the grass. “You dragged me out here. What’s the deal? You going soft on me?”

He laughs, my laugh, and unscrews the thermos, pouring coffee into the lid. “Maybe. Or maybe I just needed a break from being you. Your shoulder’s killing me, and Jade’s like a bloodhound.” He hands me the coffee, my fingers brushing his, my own. “What about you? How’s being me treating you?”

I take a sip, his throat warming. “Your heart’s a time bomb, for one. And Noah’s not letting up about Echo. Blackwave loved today’s rehearsal, but they kept asking about ‘her.’ I’m running out of lies.” I pause, staring at the creek. “What if we don’t switch back, Leo? What if I’m stuck as you, and I lose… music?”

He turns, my face close, eyes wide. “Lose music? Ava, you’re the one making it now. ‘Invisible Echoes’, that’s you, not me. You’re better at my songs than I ever was.”

I shake my head, his hair falling in my eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Music’s me. The lyrics, the melodies I’ve been hiding forever. If I’m stuck in your body, I can’t… be that. Not as me. I’d just be playing your life, not mine.”

He’s quiet, my hands twisting the thermos lid. Then he speaks, my voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I’m scared too. Being you… it’s made me see how much you carry. The trial, your mom, the way you disappear off the court. I’m terrified of staying in the background forever, Ava. Of being invisible, like you said in our song.”

I turn to him, his words hitting harder than I expect. “You’re not invisible,” I say, his voice low. “You’re Leo Martinez, rockstar. Everyone sees you.”

He laughs, my laugh bitter. “They see the mask. The charm, the stage. Not me. Not the guy who’s scared his heart’s gonna give out, or that his parents only care when he’s winning. You see me, though. You always have.”

My chest, his chest, tightens, and not just from his arrhythmia. I set the coffee down, his hand brushing my knee, his knee. “You see me too,” I say, his voice soft. “No one’s ever gotten my lyrics like you did. Not even Jade.”

He smiles, my smile, and leans closer, my ponytail grazing his shoulder, my shoulder. “That’s why we wrote ‘Invisible Echoes.’ It’s us, Ava. Both of us.” He pauses, my eyes searching his face, my face. “I’m sorry I mocked your lyrics at The Amp. I was an idiot. You’re… you’re braver than I’ll ever be.”

I laugh, his laugh shaky, and lean in too, our faces inches apart. “You’re not so bad yourself. You stood up to Derek for me. Took on Dr. Mercer for my heart. That’s brave, Leo.”

His hand, my hand, reaches up, brushing my cheek, his cheek. “Only because it’s you,” he says, my voice trembling. “I’d fight anyone for you.”

My breath catches, his heart racing, and I’m not sure who moves first, but we’re closer now, close enough to feel his breath, my breath, warm against my lips. His eyes, my eyes, are soft, vulnerable, and I want to close the gap, to feel something real, even in the wrong body. My hand, his hand, slides to his neck, my neck, and I feel my own pulse under his fingers, steady and fast.

“Ava,” he whispers, my voice a mix of fear and want, “is this… okay? I mean, we’re…”

“I know,” I say, his voice low, rough. “It’s weird. But it’s us.” I lean in, just a fraction, and our lips brush, soft, tentative, like we’re testing the edges of something we can’t name. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a connection that’s bigger than the bodies we’re in.

But then he pulls back, my face flushed, eyes wide. “We’re still… swapped,” he says, my voice shaky. “What if we, ”

“I don’t care,” I cut in, his hand still on my neck. “It’s you, Leo. Not the body. You.”

He smiles, my smile, and leans in again, this time slower, surer. Our lips meet, and it’s like the song we wrote, raw, real, a duet of truths we’ve been hiding. His hand, my hand, tangles in my hair, his hair, and I feel my own body against his, familiar and strange all at once. The kiss deepens, his heart pounding in my chest, my heart in his, and for a moment, the world, Jade, Noah, Blackwave, the trial, fades away.

When we pull apart, breathless, he laughs, my laugh soft. “Well, that’s one way to complicate things.”

I grin, his grin wide. “Yeah. But I’m not sorry.” I pause, then add, “We’re still telling the truth if we don’t switch back, right? The pact?”

He nods, my hand squeezing his, my, arm. “The pact. Together.”

We sit there, the creek gurgling, the blanket rough under us. I pick up the thermos, pouring more coffee. “Okay, Martinez. If we’re doing this, we need to be ready. Show me how to charm Blackwave tomorrow. I’m not blowing your shot.”

He grabs the volleyball from my bag, tossing it up. “And you show me how to serve without wrecking your shoulder. I’m not letting Jade bench you.”

We laugh, diving into our usual training, him serving, me mimicking his stage moves, but every glance feels different now, charged with something new. His phone buzzes, and I check it. A text from Noah: Blackwave’s hyped for tomorrow. Bring the Echo vibe. You hiding something, man? I show it to Leo, and he groans, my voice tight.

“Jade texted me too,” he says, pulling out my phone. “Wants to ‘talk’ tomorrow. We’re running out of time.”

I nod, strumming an imaginary chord. “Then we make it count. One week. We fight for each other.”

He tosses the ball, my grin fierce. “For each other.”

We pack up, driving back in silence, but the air’s warm with our kiss, our pact, our promise. As I drop him at my dorm, his hand lingers on mine, my hand, before he slips out. I watch my own body walk away, his heart still racing in my chest, and I know whatever happens, swap or no swap, we’re in this together.