Ashton's POV
After taking Emmie home from her rewarded dinner, I go back to my house for some needed relaxation. Never again am I going back to that finance class if Linda is going to be there. I didn't think that by agreeing to help would mean that she would be all over me. I had thought that it was going to be a simple study session, but that idea was scratched when Linda began groping my arm to feel my muscles. She is a perfect example as to why I don't trust women. I try to perform an act of kindness and she takes advantage of it.
Thank God, Emmie got me out of that or else I would have been close to taking Linda's fake glasses and snapping them in two just to piss her off enough to leave me alone. I was surprised that Emmie was actually spying on us. Was she jealous that I was with Linda? It was the first time that I actually conversed with another female besides Emmie, so I can understand if she was a bit shocked, but would shock be enough of a motive to spy? She looked ashamed of herself when she got in trouble with Finn, as if she was surprised by her own actions.
In all honesty, I'm actually happy that she spied on us. She's curious about my personal life outside of our friendship and is willing to go as far as hiding behind a bookshelf to see what's going on. I don't know if it was jealousy or curiosity that motivated her, but I am satisfied with either because it's proof that she does care about me. Or I'm just over-thinking things and trying to convince myself of that.
I park behind Cal's truck like usual and head over to the front door where loud muffled voices seep outside. I can't make out what the boys are saying to each other, but it sounds like they're arguing with one another. When I hear my name being thrown out between them, I silently open the door, mentally thanking Luke for always forgetting to lock the door. I sneak inside the house, determined to hear their conversation.
Calum's voice echoes from the kitchen where they are all gathered. "We can't just keep this from him," he says.
I untie my boots and slip them off, allowing me to be even more silent as I hide behind the wall in the entryway, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"This will kill him," Luke says.
What could be so bad that it will kill me? Is it about Emmie?
"He's going to have to find out one way or another," Michael says. "She was a large part of his life and he deserves to know."
"But to have to find out this way..." Calum trails off.
"I can't believe Nat was brave enough to send it despite the circumstances," Luke says and my ear perk at Natalie's nickname.
My feet move with a goal of their own into the kitchen.
"Maybe we should just wait-" Michael stops mid-sentence; his eyes widen as he hears my backpack drop to the ground and my eyes meet his.
The three boys are circled around the kitchen island. A single white envelope rests on the middle of the counter and they keep their distance from it as if it were a deathly disease. My eyes are drawn to the piece of mail and before I know it, I'm standing directly in front of it. The hand-written calligraphy that spells out my full name on the square envelope causes my stomach to drop and my to heart ache.
I don't want to believe it. I don't want it to be real.
I don't even have to open it to know what kind of letter this is. I can feel three pairs of eyes on me, waiting for some kind of reaction and all I can manage to do is walk over to the refrigerator and grab the bottle of scotch that sat on top of it.
"Ash, don't-" Luke says, attempting to grab the bottle from my hand, but I cut him off by snatching the envelope from the counter and brushing past his shoulder. The paper inside the envelope are crushed from my strong grip as I bolt up the stairs and to my room.
I sit on the edge of my bed, removing the lid from the liquor bottle and wincing as the smooth liquid burns down my throat with each swig. I stare at the deformed paper tight in my grasp and throw it across the room, landing only about a foot away from me. I can't hear anything. I can't feel anything. It's as if all my senses have ceased to exist, and I am sitting in a world of nothing. I don't want to think about it. I want it to be some practical joke. It's unbelievable. How could she do this? I press the glass bottle to my lips, feeling the tingling sensation as the alcohol courses through my body.
I don't want it to be real.
Emilia's POV
Ashton hasn't been himself for the past week. After our dinner last week, he's become a different Ashton than the one that I've grown to care for. This Ashton though is a fake. His happy, chipper attitude isn't genuine. It's as if he's trying hard to act like himself, but I can see through it. He denies that there is something wrong and tells me that everything is okay. Did I do something wrong?
In class, he wouldn't even try to bother me like he usual does when I'm writing notes. He just sits there and stares off into the distance. It's as if he was hard at thinking and trapped in his thoughts. He wouldn't even wait for me at work like he normally does and that's a clear indicator that something is definitely wrong.
It bothers me that he's not his normal self, and I want to do something about it. I want him to be able to tell me what's bothering him, but he won't open up to me. I had even tried asking the other guys if something was going on, but they never gave me a straight answer. They would just look at one another and tell me not to worry. I know that they are hiding something from me and I am determined to find out.
"So what are you guys doing for Halloween?" I ask the four boys sitting in their living room.
I came over to their house after school to see if I can dig anything out from them about Ashton's behavior. So far, I've had no luck.
"We're actually going to throw a party," Michael says, not even bothering to take his eyes away from the video game he's playing.
"You do realize that Halloween falls on a weekday this year, right?" I say.
"Yup," he says.
"And that we have class the next day?" Is he seriously not understanding the logic that I am throwing at him?
"Yup," he repeats.
"It'll be fine, Emmie," Ashton says, wearing another fake smile; his dimples don't even make an appearance. "We'll just have everyone leave early."
I raise an eyebrow skeptically. "Do you seriously believe that drunk college students will just 'leave early' from a party?"
"Who said they'll be drunk?" he asks with a hint of sarcasm.
"Isn't that what happens at college parties?" I honestly have no idea what happens at parties. I just gained a social life, I have no clue how things like this work out.
He laughs the melodic laugh that I've missed over the past few days. "Yes, but that doesn't mean everyone is going to be drunk," he says.
"Will you?" I ask.
He stays silent and looks everywhere, except at me.
"We're just going to have a little fun Emmie," Luke says. "It'll be like your birthday but with loud music and more people. You don't have to drink if you don't want to."
"What makes you think I'm going?" I deadpan, and his mouth parts. "I still don't really like people and to be in a crowded house full of drunken, writhing bodies doesn't sound ideal." Not to mention my bad experiences with parties, but I push that to the back of my mind.
"You don't want to come?" Ashton says; his voice small and timid, almost disappointed.
I shake my head. "I never said that," I say. "I just said that it doesn't sound ideal. I want to experience a college party, so I'll come."
Ashton's dimples finally reveal themselves as he gives me a toothy grin, and my heart flutters at the recently rare sight.
"We're going to have to buy some more drinks though," Michael says, still immersed in his game.
I glance towards the open kitchen, looking for the bottles that normally sit on top of the fridge. "What happened to your stash?"
Michael's focus pulls away from his game and he glances to each of the boys, panicked.
"We, uh..." Luke says, flickering his eyes between me and Ash before settling on my gaze. "We moved them to the bottom cabinets to make room for more."
If it weren't for his hesitation, I would believe him one hundred percent, but I decide not to question it and trust that he is telling me the truth.
__
"I should probably head home," I say. I've been at their house for hours now and it's already getting late. As much as I love their company, I can only be around them for so long before I start to get sick of them. "I'll see you guys at the party."
They all give their goodbyes and return to lounging the day away. Ashton silently grabs his keys off the table and guides me into his car. He backs out carefully and takes off onto the city roads, keeping focus far away from me.
I can't stand seeing Ash like this. It's like we've switched roles and he's become the reserved one and I'm the cheery one.
"Ash are you-" I say, but he cuts me off.
"Emilia," Ashton says; his voice stern. "I'm really fine. You've been asking me that all week. I don't know why you don't believe me."
"I do believe you." Lie. "I'm just making sure because sometimes you don't act like it." What are you hiding from me?
He sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you. I'm just...tired."
I still don't believe you. "You're not sleeping well?" I ask.
"Not particularly."
"Have you tried sleeping pills?"
"I don't like taking medicine."
"Well, you can't really complain if it's going to help you."
He chuckles lightly, almost as if he's forcing it out. "You have a point. I'll pick some up on my way home after I drop you off."
"Promise?"
He pauses before replying. "I promise."
__
I was right. Being in a crowded house full of drunks and writhing bodies is not ideal. It may be Halloween, but I had decided not to dress up like all the other girls in short maid and witch costumes. I'm already putting all my effort into adapting to the college party ways, and I don't need the added pressure to wear a slutty outfit.
"You know, you're supposed to have fun at a party, Emmie, not stay in the kitchen all night," Calum slurs, draping his arm around my shoulder.
"Yeah, the last time I did that, things didn't go to well," I say.
His eyebrows furrow and sympathy draws on his face. "We won't let that happen, you know that." He pats my shoulder reassuringly and then walks over to a cooler, returning with a cold brown bottle.
"What is it?" I ask, trying to twist off the top, but fail.
Calum takes the bottle from my grasp and removes the cap with ease. "Raspberry hard cider," he says. "Good stuff, but very little alcohol. It would take at least five of these before it hits you, so have some fun. We'll still look after you." He smile and goes back into the sea of drunken, dancing party goers.
I observe Calum as he drunkenly sways his body around and can't help but laugh at his movements. I take a sip of the hard cider before feeling tap on my shoulder. I turn around and find myself looking into a pair of pale blue eyes.
"Having fun?" Luke asks.
"Well I'm having fun watching Calum dance like an idiot," I say, pointing to Calum who is now pressing himself against a girl. "Does that count?"
Luke laughs. "Oh, that definitely counts." He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of Calum in his drunken state.
"Have you seen Ash?" I ask. "I haven't seen him yet."
"Try upstairs. No one is allowed up there except us, so you might find him there."
I take his advice and head upstairs to the vacant second-floor. I knock on his bedroom door and call out to him. When I hear no response, I open the door and flip on the light switch. I've only been into his room once before and that was the first time he brought me over to his house. I didn't really have a chance to observe his room then, but now that I do, the first thing I notice is not what I expected.
An easel covered with a black sheet stands centered in the room. Thick sketchbook papers, colored in only black and white, litter the ground around it. I place my drink down on his desk that is surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the room before kneeling down and picking up one of the many pieces of work.
On one, a painting of a female silhouette is scribbled out, leaving indentions in the paper. I pick up another, which was also a painting of silhouette that was lying in the fetal position, also scribbled out. These are actually quite disturbing and I don't know what to make of it. I pick up one more to see a beautiful water color painting of a garden, however there is absolutely no color accentuating the flowers except for black. I stand up and examine the covered easel. Just as I am about to lift the sheet from it, a curious voice stops me.
"What are you doing?" the familiar voice asks.
I drop the sheet and turn to Ashton who's leaning against the doorway for support. His eyes are red and droopy.
"I didn't know that you painted," I say.
He sighs and stumbles over to the bed to sit. "Most people don't," Ashton says. "It's just a hobby." He takes a drink of the beer in his hand.
"How much have you had to drink?"
He tilts his head back, and starts counting with his fingers. "Lost count."
I shake my head and grab my drink from the desk, only to notice a large empty whisky bottle in the wastebasket that sat beside it. Well, I found one of the missing bottles from their stash.
"Ash, what's going on with you?" I ask. "And don't give me the bullshit excuse of you being tired. You were fine when we went out to dinner last week; everything was normal. You were laughing, joking, and overall, happy. What happened after that? You are not acting like the Ashton that I first met. Did I do something?"
He groans. "It's not you, Emilia," he says, slightly annoyed.
"Then what?" I'm not angry with him, well, maybe a little, but I just want the caring, loving Ashton back; my Ashton.
He chugs down the rest of his drink before pulling out a red, crumpled piece of cardstock from his pocket. "This is my problem," he says.
I smooth out the paper as best as I can and read the formal print written aloud.
"Natalie Rae Birchwood and Nathan James Hensley request the honour of your presence at their marriage..." I stop myself from reading any further. "Is this-"
"Yeah, that's Natalie," he says. "The Natalie. The one that cheated on me two years ago when we were engaged. It's only been two years and she's already marrying another man. And worst of all, she has the audacity to invite me! How could she do that? Who does that? How can she invite her ex-fiancé to her wedding? It's hypocritical!"
I can't stand to see his pained expression right now. The one girl who he truly loved and possibly still loves, just broke his heart again. I want to comfort him, but there is nothing that I can say to make this any better.
"I've spent the last week drinking bottles down to the last drop just to try and escape the memories that continue to haunt me," he says, and I move to sit next to him. "When you came along, I was able to be happy and push Natalie away to the back of my mind. I was able to forget. And she screwed that up by inviting me to her goddamn wedding.
"I don't understand why I'm so hung up on her. I have you now, but she won't get out of my mind. I hate that, Emmie." He eyes are brimming with tears. "You're so much more beautiful than her. You make me feel happier than I ever did with her." He leans forward, resting his head on my forehead and intertwining my hand with his.
I'm stunned by his actions and all I can focus on was how close in proximity we are. "Ash," I breathe. "You're drunk."
He ignores me. "I care for you so much, Emilia, and I'm tired of Natalie coming in between how I feel about you. She's ruined so many things for me, but I don't want her to ruin my love for you."
Ashton presses his lips firmly against mine, leaving me motionless and wide eyed. The butterflies that always seem to flutter at his very touch are having a frenzy in my stomach. I can taste the mixture of mint and beer on my lips and it's oddly delightful. As much as this feels right, I can't help but push his body away from mine and run out of his room, downstairsâignoring Michael, Luke, and Calum calling out to meâand out of the party.
'My love for you.'
His words spin around in my mind as I continue running down the dark streets. This is no longer just a friendship, and I don't know how I feel about that. All I know is that my heart is racing and I regret leaving Ashton back at his house.
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A/N:
I couldn't wait to post this!! The ending is so cheesy, but isn't love supposed to be cheesy? Things are finally happening to Ashlia! I know that there are some blanks in the story and those will hopefully be filled in the next chapter. There are a lot of things to be explained, but I really want that to be from Ashton's POV. I hope you guys enjoyed this update anyways! Please continue to vote, comment, and share this story! I really love reading your comments and hearing your thoughts so please don't be shy to write something. Thank you all again for your support and continuing to even read this. I love you all sooooo much! âRebecca xoxoxoxo