Chapter 22: The Almost-Kiss (Again) (Ava in Leo’s Body)

Chapter 22: The Almost-Kiss (Again) (Ava in Leo’s Body)

I’m sprawled on the floor of the music building’s basement, Leo’s guitar resting against my knee, his knee, my fingers still tingling from practicing the riff for “Starless.” His heart gives a faint skip, a reminder of Dr. Mercer’s warnings, but I push it down, focusing on the volleyball Leo’s tossing in my body across from me. My ponytail swings as he moves, my small frame looking out of place with his restless energy. It’s past midnight, our usual training time, but the air’s heavier tonight, charged with last night’s kiss by the creek and the pact we made to confess if we don’t switch back before Battle of the Bands and my scholarship trial in six days. Noah’s suspicions about “Echo” and Jade’s worry about “me” are closing in, and I’m barely holding it together.

“Okay, Martinez,” I say, setting the guitar aside, his voice rough from singing. “You’re getting better at serves, but your footwork’s still sloppy. Plant your back foot, like you’re setting up for a chord.” I toss the volleyball to him, trying to keep things normal, but my eyes, his eyes, keep catching on the way he moves in my body, the way my own face looks back at me, softer than I’m used to.
He catches the ball, my hands steady despite the ache in my shoulder. “Footwork, got it,” he says, my voice teasing but tight. “You’re one to talk, Lin. Your stage presence is still all volleyball, stiff. Loosen up, like you’re diving for a dig.” He tosses the ball back, smirking, my smirk, but it’s all Leo.
I laugh, his laugh deep and warm, and stand, brushing off his jeans. “Alright, show me then. Strut like you’re owning The Amp.” I sling the guitar over his shoulder, mimicking his cocky walk, but my steps, his steps, are clumsy, and he bursts out laughing, my laugh high and bright.
“You look like a drunk giraffe,” he says, clutching the volleyball to my chest. “Come on, it’s like this.” He steps forward, my body swaying with a confidence I’ve never had, hips loose, head high. “Feel the crowd, Ava. Own it.”
I try again, exaggerating his swagger, and he claps, my hands stinging. “Better! Now play ‘Invisible Echoes.’ Sell it like you’re Echo, not me.”
I strum the opening chords, my voice, his voice, low and raw. “Hiding in plain sight, screaming in the quiet…” He joins in, my voice blending with his, and we’re singing together, our song filling the basement. His eyes, my eyes, lock on mine, and there’s something in them, something that makes his heart race in my chest, not just from the arrhythmia.
We finish, breathless, and he drops the volleyball, stepping closer. “That was… damn, Ava. You’re gonna kill it at Battle.” My voice is soft, almost a whisper, and he’s close now, too close, my body inches from his, mine.
I set the guitar down, his hands shaking. “You’re not bad yourself,” I say, his voice catching. “That serve earlier? Almost pro-level.” I’m trying to keep it light, but he’s looking at me, my own eyes so intense it’s like I’m seeing myself for the first time.
“Pro-level, huh?” he says, my smile soft. He steps even closer, my hand, his hand, brushing his arm, my arm. “You’re making me look good, Lin.”
My breath hitches, his heart pounding, and I’m hyper-aware of his body, the warmth of my own skin under his fingers. “Leo,” I say, his voice low, “you’re making me look good too.” I lean in, just a fraction, drawn to him like I was last night by the creek. His eyes, my eyes, flutter closed, and our lips are so close I can feel his breath, my breath, warm and quick.
But then I freeze, his heart thudding too fast. “Wait,” I say, pulling back, his voice sharp. I step away, my hand, his hand, dropping to my side. “I… I can’t. I don’t know what it means if I kiss you in someone else’s body.”
He opens his eyes, my face flushed, and steps back too, my hands twisting nervously. “Yeah,” he says, my voice shaky. “It’s… weird, right? I mean, I’m you, and you’re me, and…” He trails off, rubbing my neck, a gesture I’ve never done but looks so him.
I nod, his throat tight. “It’s not just weird. It’s… I don’t know who I’m kissing. You, or… this.” I gesture at his body, then mine, the confusion heavy between us. “Last night felt right, but now? I’m scared, Leo. What if we’re stuck like this, and I’m falling for you in your skin?”
He sits on the floor, my body curling up, the volleyball forgotten. “I’m scared too,” he admits, my voice barely audible. “I look at you, me, and it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. But it’s not me, and it’s not you, and… crap, Ava, I don’t know what this means either.”
I sink down next to him, his long legs sprawling. “We’re a mess,” I say, his laugh weak. “We write a song that goes viral, we make a pact to confess, and now we’re… what? Almost kissing again?”
He laughs, my laugh soft and sad. “Yeah. Pretty stupid, huh?” He looks at me, my eyes wet. “But I meant what I said last night. It’s you, Ava. Not the body. You.”
My chest, his chest, tightens, and I want to reach for him, but I don’t. “And it’s you, Leo. But I need to know it’s us when we… if we…” I can’t finish, the words stuck.
He nods, my hand reaching out but stopping short. “I get it. We wait. Until we’re us again. Or until we confess, right? The pact.”
“The pact,” I say, his voice steady now. “Together.”
We sit in silence, the basement heavy with what we didn’t do. Then he grabs the volleyball, tossing it up. “Alright, coach. One more serve. I’m not letting you outshine me.”
I stand, forcing a grin, his grin. “And I’m not letting you tank my trial. Show me what you’ve got.”
We train, him serving, me strumming, but every glance feels awkward, like we’re tiptoeing around broken glass. He nails a serve, cleaner than ever, and I cheer, his voice loud, but it’s forced. I play “Invisible Echoes,” my voice, his voice, raw, but my hands shake, and he notices, my eyes soft with worry.
“You okay?” he asks, setting the ball down.
I nod, setting the guitar aside. “Yeah. Just… this.” I gesture between us, the almost-kiss lingering. “Let’s get back to campus. We’ve got Blackwave tomorrow, and Jade’s probably texting you again.”
He checks my phone, wincing. “Yup. ‘Ava, where are you? We need to talk.’ She’s relentless.” He stands, slinging my backpack over my bad shoulder, then switching to the other when I glare. “Sorry.”
I laugh, his laugh softer now. “It’s fine. Just… be careful. We’re running out of time.”