10. Chapter 5
Nothing But Ruins
Evin
W hen Evin left the studio with slumped shoulders, Mrs. Wagner’s words were echoing in her mind.
A few less burgers. She hadn’t looked down when the teacher said it, but now she couldn’t stop glancing at her reflection in the glass windows, taking in every inch of her silhouette.
She had changed quickly, avoiding too much interaction with the other girls, and had hurried outside. The crisp, almost cool air prickled her skin, but it didn’t ease the tension clawing at her chest. There was no way around it—she had to pull herself together. This was her shot.
When she got home, her room greeted her with complete chaos.
Evin threw her bag onto her chair and stood in the middle of the mess instead of collapsing onto her bed.
“Ugh.” Her half-packed suitcase sat open on the floor.
Tomorrow morning, the class was leaving for their field trip, and she hadn’t even started packing properly.
The class was heading to Mission Santa Esperanza—a place steeped in history and impressive ruins, as their history teacher had put it.
“A glimpse into the past,” he’d said. But Evin found the idea ironic.
Her own life felt like ruins right now. Maybe I’ll fit right in, she thought sarcastically as she sifted through the pile of freshly laundered clothes she still had to pack.
The silence in the apartment swallowed her up, letting her thoughts drift back to Bas.
The fight with him, his cutting words—it was like he was pulling further away from her every time.
She could still feel the sting, but this time, it was different.
There was anger in the mix, blended with a quiet resignation as she folded her clothes and placed them neatly into the suitcase.
Her suitcase, battered and scuffed from years of travel, looked as worn out as she felt. As she methodically packed, her mind kept drifting.
It was the day after the party, and Bas had been distant from the start. He hadn’t replied to a single one of her messages. At school, she’d tried to ignore him, but his coldness was impossible to overlook. By the end of lunch, she’d had enough and cornered him in an empty hallway.
“Bas, we need to talk,” she’d said, following him as he tried to walk away. But before she could say more, he turned around, his eyes cold and distant.
“Talk?” His laugh was sharp, hollow. “Now you want to talk? After all that?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evin’s stomach twisted. She knew he was hurt, but she hadn’t expected this.
“You’ve got some nerve,” he hissed, eyes flicking away like he couldn’t even look at her. “First us, then Ben? You really think I’d just sit back and take that?”
His voice was quiet but razor-sharp. Evin took a step back. “Nothing happened with Ben. We were just talking! You know I’m not into him.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Evin.” Bas stepped closer. “You ruined it, and now you won’t even own up to it.”
“I didn’t ruin anything!” Her voice rose, her hands balling into fists. “You’re the one who always bails the second things get serious.”
“Maybe because you don’t know what you want.” His gaze swept over her, d isdainful. “Keep playing your little games, Evin. Just leave me the hell out of it. I don’t give a damn about you anymore.”
Evin boiled. “And you? You never play games? You act like you don’t have feelings, but then you lose your mind the second someone else so much as talks to me.”
“Stop trying to control me,” he shot back. “I’m not one of your loser friends you can push around.”
Fragments of their argument replayed in her mind, sharp and vivid. Bas had gone all in, as usual. The jabs, the accusations—they came quick, like punches in a fight. But loser friends? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? She wasn’t even friends with Ben.
“Control you?” she’d shouted. “I’m trying to fix something I didn’t even break. Did you talk to Ben?”
He’d just smirked at her, turned on his heel in the middle of the conversation, and walked away. His hair ruffled slightly as he moved, and the school bell rang, its sound like an exclamation point on their fight.
"Just let it go," he said over his shoulder, flicking his hand like she wasn’t worth the effort. But then—he hesitated. Just for a second, like there was something else he wanted to say. And then, just as fast, he shut it down.
“Bas!” she’d called after him. He stopped, and she took a breath, but he didn’t turn around. This wasn’t the first time he’d picked a fight with her, and as always, he was tense, his guard up. She knew he’d hurt her again, but if he wanted to play this game, she could play too.
“Don’t think I’m going to chase after you,” she spat.
Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You keep pushing me to say things. To feel things. To mean things. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I never did. And I’m not gonna pretend just because that’s what you want."
“What? When have I ever asked you for that?” she snapped, trying to mask the sting his words left in her chest.
He tilted his head slightly, giving her one of those looks that always made her feel like he was holding something back—something he’d never admit. “I’ve realized I’m not the type to settle down. Not with you, not with anyone .”
“Wow. Shocking. And now, can you at least listen?” Her voice cracked slightly, but she pressed on, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.
He exhaled sharply, his eyes hardening. “Enough’s been said.”
And just like that, he flipped the switch, shutting himself off again.
“What is your problem? I didn’t do anything!” she yelled.
“Exactly,” he shot back.
She ignored him, her voice rising. “And now you’re blowing this out of proportion!
You’re free, Bas. Is that what you wanted to hear?
” She gestured to the small crowd that had gathered to watch the scene unfold.
"I don’t know what bullshit they’ve been whispering in your ear, but that’s your problem, not mine. "
"Evin," he cut in, his voice so calm it felt like an insult. "You're free. Free like a fucking bird. Do whatever you want, with whoever you want. Just don’t come near me again."
His words echoed in her mind, cutting deeper with every replay.
The thought of that fight made her blood boil all over again—as if she hadn’t already burned enough.
He’d left her standing there, in front of Catarina and so many others, humiliated her, and instead of telling him the truth—that Ben had started it—she’d let her anger take over and said all the wrong things.
She buried her face in her hands, rubbing at her cheeks in frustration.
At least she had the class trip to look forward to. A weekend away with her history class felt like the escape she desperately needed.
Right now, Mission Santa Esperanza felt less like a class trip and more like an escape route.