"You can stay with me."
Ava said it so casually, like she was offering me a pen instead of a place to live.
We were sitting on a bench outside the school, the afternoon sun warming the concrete beneath us. Students passed by in groups, laughing, living like the city had always belonged to them.
"I mean it," Ava added. "I've got space. You don't have to stress yourself."
I smiled, grateful—but firm. "I appreciate it. Really. But I have some money saved. I can rent a place. I want to try doing this on my own."
She studied my face for a moment, then sighed. "You've always been stubborn."
"And you've always been bossy," I teased.
She rolled her eyes, then suddenly pressed some cash into my palm.
"Ava—"
"Don't argue," she said quickly. "It's not charity. Consider it… childhood tax."
I laughed despite myself. "You're impossible."
"I know."
House hunting turned out to be nothing like I imagined. I expected cramped rooms, peeling paint, and prices that would make me cry. But after hours of walking and checking listings, we found it.
A small one-bedroom apartment tucked above a quiet café.
It was perfect.
Soft cream walls. Wooden floors. Big windows that let sunlight pour in like it was welcome there. The kitchen was tiny but modern, and the bedroom—simple, calm, peaceful.
And the price?
Suspiciously cheap.
"I feel like we're being scammed," I whispered.
Ava spun around the living room. "If this is a scam, I'll happily fall for it."
I signed the papers with shaking hands.
I had my own place.
After dropping off the keys, we headed to the mall, riding the high of accomplishment and freedom. That's when we ran into Madison.
She noticed us immediately—well, Ava.
"Oh my gosh, Ava," Madison squealed, pulling her into a hug. Her eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to the mirror in front of a boutique.
Ava picked up a soft blue dress and handed it to me. "This would look amazing on you."
Madison turned sharply. "Wait—I wanted that one."
I checked the price tag and my smile faded. "It's fine. I don't really need it."
Ava didn't even hesitate. She walked to the counter and paid.
"Ava, I said—"
She leaned in and whispered, "You're starting a new life. You deserve at least one nice dress."
Madison scoffed but said nothing.
The rest of the evening flew by—buying notebooks, bedding, kitchen supplies, school materials. Things that made my new apartment feel less empty and my new life feel real.
As we walked back, bags in hand, I looked at Ava and felt something warm settle in my chest.
Maybe the city was loud.
Maybe it was intimidating.
But with the right people beside you—
It could also feel like home.