Reconnaissance Ava paced back and forth in the little kitchen. It had taken all her resolve to not contact him after she'd heard about the end of his supposedly very serious relationship. She'd gone along to the drinks with everyone else, but had done her best to avoid one on one conversation with him as she had for the past few years. It was self-preservation after all, and she’d ignored all advice from her friends telling her that the girl was just a distraction, that he liked her, that he'd liked her since their fourth year. It just wasn't possible, because if he had, then he would have done something about it. Someone would have done something about it. ("We tried," was basically the sentiments she felt from her friends. "We tried so many times but the only thing getting in the way of your dating was the two of you being such rockheads.") Even once they'd convinced her that yes, he really had liked her back in high school, she doubted that he still did. After all, it was a silly little school crush, wasn't it? She didn't know why it still tore her up inside to think he had been with other girls. After all, so had she (and a couple guys too).
And as she refilled the kettle to make a new pot of tea (she'd had to forgo coffee as the caffeine in combination with the various other things she'd done to her body over the years just wasn't healthy for her anymore), she reflected on what exactly it had been to get her in this situation, her pacing in her kitchen, while Emery Kijewski-Jareau was in her bedroom.