Chapter 26: Hidden Videos (Leo in Ava’s Body)

Chapter 26: Hidden Videos (Leo in Ava’s Body)

I’m in Ava’s dorm, slumped on her bed, my arm, her arm, still in a sling from the ER visit. Her shoulder throbs, a dull reminder of my collapse at practice, and I’m still reeling from singing “Song of Her Name” to Ava last night. Her tears, in my body, hit me harder than I expected, and now I’m jittery, waiting for Jade to barge in like she promised. My phone, her phone, buzzes on the nightstand, a text from Ava: Blackwave’s at rehearsal again. Noah’s pushing me about Echo. I’m barely keeping up. You okay with Jade? My heart, her heart, skips, not just from stress but from the weight of our pact: three days until the scholarship trial and Battle of the Bands, and if we don’t switch back, we confess everything.

I’m about to reply when the door swings open, no knock, and Jade storms in, her ponytail tight, her eyes blazing. She’s holding Ava’s old practice volleyball, spinning it like she’s ready to spike it at me. “Ava, enough,” she says, my voice, her voice, sharp. “You’re not dodging me anymore. You collapsed, you’re crying all the time, and you’re acting like a stranger. What’s going on?”
I sit up, her sling awkward, and force a smile, her smile. “Jade, I’m fine. Just… the trial’s stressing me out. My shoulder’s a mess, but I’m handling it.”
She drops the volleyball, letting it bounce across the floor, and crosses her arms. “Handling it? You’re falling apart, Ava. You don’t even move like you anymore. Your serves are off, your digs are weak, and you’re… I don’t know, softer. Like you’re someone else.”
My stomach twists, her heart pounding. “I’m just tired,” I say, her voice shaky. “The trial’s in three days. Coach is on me, my mom’s on me, ”
“Stop lying!” Jade snaps, stepping closer. She pulls out her phone, swiping to a video. “I went through your phone last night when you were in the shower. Found this.” She hits play, and it’s old footage of Ava at practice, maybe a month ago, before the swap. Ava’s body, my body now, moves with precision, diving for a dig, her serve sharp and powerful. Jade pauses it, pointing. “That’s you. That’s Ava Lin. Now look at you.” She grabs Ava’s phone from the nightstand, ignoring my protest, and opens a recent video Coach sent the team, one from yesterday’s practice before I collapsed.
I lean over, her ponytail brushing my cheek, and see myself, her, in the footage. My movements are clunky, hesitant, nothing like the real Ava. My dig is slow, my serve barely clears the net, and I wince every time I move her shoulder. Jade’s right. It’s obvious.
“See?” Jade says, her voice softer now, but still sharp. “This isn’t you. It’s like… I don’t know, like you’re not even in there. Are you on something? Is it Leo? Is he messing with you?”
I flinch, her hand gripping the phone too tight. “It’s not Leo,” I say, her voice firm. “He’s helping me, okay? He’s… a friend.”
Jade snorts, tossing her phone onto the bed. “A friend? You’re sneaking off with him at night, and he’s showing up when you collapse, like he’s got a tracker on you. And that ‘Echo’ video? Everyone’s saying it’s a girl with his voice. What’s the deal, Ava? Are you covering for him?”
I stand, her body small but tense. “I’m not covering for anyone. It’s just… complicated. I’m dealing with stuff, Jade. I’ll figure it out before the trial.”
She steps closer, her eyes searching my face, her face. “You’re not dealing, Ava. You’re breaking. I’m your best friend. I know you. You don’t cry in public, you don’t miss digs, and you don’t lie to me. But you’re lying now.” Her voice cracks, and she grabs my hand, her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”
My eyes, her eyes, sting, and I want to tell her, to spill the truth about the swap, but the pact stops me. We have three days. I pull my hand back, shaking my head. “I can’t, Jade. Not yet. Just… trust me, okay?”
She stares, her jaw tight, then grabs her volleyball and heads for the door. “Fine. But I’m not letting this go. You’re seeing Coach with me tomorrow, and we’re getting you to Dr. Kim. No excuses.” She pauses, looking back. “And stay away from Leo. He’s bad news.”
The door slams, and I slump onto the bed, her heart racing. I text Ava: Jade found old practice videos. Compared them to now. Knows something’s off. She’s pissed. Midnight, music building?
Her reply is quick: Crap. Noah’s on me too. Blackwave loved rehearsal, but he’s digging into Echo. I’m okay, but we’re in trouble. Midnight, yeah.
I slip into the music building’s basement just after midnight, Ava’s sling making her movements stiff, her shoulder a constant ache. Ava’s already there, in my body, strumming my guitar with a focus that makes my face, her face, look almost like me. My dark eyes light up when she sees me, but there’s worry there too, etched into my features.
“You look like hell,” she says, my voice low, setting the guitar down. She steps closer, my lanky frame towering over her, me. “Jade’s got you rattled, huh?”
I nod, sinking onto the floor, her ponytail brushing my neck. “She went through your phone. Found old practice videos. Says I don’t move like you anymore. Thinks I’m on drugs or you’re covering for me.” I rub her shoulder, wincing. “She’s dragging me to Coach and Dr. Kim tomorrow.”
Ava groans, sitting next to me, my long legs sprawling. “Noah’s no better. Kept asking why my playing’s ‘off’ but my singing’s ‘Echo-level.’ Blackwave’s pushing for that sound at Battle, and I’m barely keeping up as you.” She pauses, my hand brushing her arm, my arm. “Jade’s right, though. You’re not me. I’m not you. We’re slipping.”
I swallow, her throat tight. “Three days left. Trial, Battle, the pact. If we don’t switch…” I trail off, the weight of confessing to Jade, Noah, everyone, pressing down.
She nods, my eyes steady. “We stick to the pact. Together.” She picks up the volleyball, tossing it to me. “Show me a dig. Gentle, with the sling.”
I catch the ball, standing slowly, her body awkward but determined. “Only if you play ‘Song of Her Name.’ I’m not letting you forget it.” I toss the ball lightly, shifting her weight, and dive carefully, hitting a shaky dig. The ball wobbles back, and she catches it, my grin wide.
“Not bad, Martinez!” she says, my voice bright. “You’re getting it.”
I laugh, her laugh soft, and sit back down. “Your turn, rockstar. Play it.”
She picks up the guitar, strumming the opening of “Song of Her Name,” my voice raw and haunting. “She carries the weight of a world unseen, strength in her silence, a shadowed queen…” I join in, her voice blending with mine, and it’s like last night, when she cried hearing it. My eyes, her eyes, sting again, but I don’t hide it, letting the tears fall as we sing.
We finish, breathless, and she sets the guitar down, my eyes wet too. “You’re crying again,” she says, my voice soft, and she reaches out, my hand wiping a tear from her cheek, my cheek.
“You wrote me,” I say, her voice trembling. “No one’s ever done that. It’s… everything, Ava.”
She smiles, my smile shaky. “You’re everything, Leo. Even in my body.” She leans closer, my hand lingering on her face, my face, and for a second, I think we might kiss, like the night by the creek. But I pull back, remembering her hesitation, the confusion of our swapped selves.
“We should get back,” I say, standing, her voice thick. “Jade’s coming for me tomorrow, and you’ve got Blackwave.”
She nods, slinging my guitar over my shoulder. “Yeah. Noah’s waiting for answers I don’t have.” She pauses, my eyes searching. “But we’re okay, right? Together?”
“Together,” I say, grabbing her bag. We slip out separately, her to my apartment, me to her dorm, but Jade’s discovery burns in my chest, her videos proof we’re not fooling anyone anymore.