I need to get over it.
Suddenly the door bursts open and in strides the very last person I thought I’d see.
Ash Davis.
The smirk on his face is annoying, even though it’s not aimed at me. His hair is dark as sin and a mess, flopping across his forehead in a clear indication that he needs a haircut. His eyes are so dark they look pitch black, and I swear if Satan had a son, it would be this boy.
Mom has said from the moment Dad started coaching the football team that Ash looks like trouble, but there was always an affectionate tone in her voice. As if for some reason, my mother actually likes him.
I don’t understand why.
“Ah, Mr. Davis.” The teacher smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. More like he appears super irritated, which I think is a consistent emotion among the teachers when it comes to dealing with Ash. “So kind of you to finally join us.”
“Sorry I’m late, Curtin.” Ash casts his smirk upon all of us in the classroom, as if he’s performing on stage and we’re all watching him from the audience. “What I’d miss?”
A few girls giggle, me not included.
I just stare straight ahead, not really looking at him, not really looking at anything. I’ve never had a class with Ash before. I figured we were on different tracks and our paths wouldn’t cross, at least not during class time.
This is what I get for thinking I’d never have to deal with him again—more like I was in a major state of denial. I should’ve known. More than that, I should’ve remembered that we share a friend group, though he’s more on the fringe of it. He’s on the football team and I’m a cheerleader—though he’s on JV so we don’t cheer during his games. At lunch, or whenever our friends are sitting together, I try my best to avoid him.
And he knows it.
I don’t know why I avoid him. Maybe I didn’t like how he blunt he was when we first met. Maybe I don’t like how he struts around campus like he owns the place. Maybe I don’t like the way he looks at me, as if he can see right through me, right down to the very essence of my soul.
That sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Ash Davis makes me uncomfortable. Most of the time in a bad way.
Sometimes, though I’d never tell anyone this, he makes me uncomfortable in…a good way.
Though I refuse to have a crush on him. Every other girl in the sophomore class does already. He doesn’t need to add me to his list.
“Lucky you, Asher, you haven’t missed much. Here’s the syllabus.” Curtin hands Ash the piece of paper he passed out only a few minutes ago and then flicks his head. “Go find your seat. It’s next to Autumn Callahan, who’ll be your lab partner this semester.”
I sit up straighter, looking over at the empty seat next to me before I search the room, mentally counting…each…full…seat.
Oh my God. He’s going to be my lab partner?
For the entire semester?
Kill me now.
Asher saunters toward my table and I watch him, our gazes connecting. Holding. His smirk disappears, his lips thinning the slightest bit, as if I might disgust him, and I swallow hard, curling my hands together on top of the table.
“Hey.” He nods in my direction as he flops into the chair next to mine, tossing his backpack on top of the table, making a lot of noise and causing Mr. Curtin to pause for a second in his discussion. “It’s been a while.”
I look away, staring straight ahead once more. “Please don’t talk to me,” I say as quietly as possible. He knows I don’t like him.
Well…it’s not that I dislike him.
More like he completely unsettles me. Just having him this close, I feel something crackling between us. Electricity? Chemistry?
Oh, ha ha. That’s funny, considering we’re in a chemistry class.
I frown and dip my head, staring at the table. My thoughts are ridiculous. My reaction to Ash is ridiculous too. He’s just a boy. A very good looking, confident boy, who leaves me on edge every time I so much as look at him.
Chuckling, Ash shakes his head as he unzips his backpack and pulls out a tattered notebook and a pen. Didn’t even bother to buy school supplies for the new year, while I live for that kind of thing. The back-to-school section at Target in early August is my favorite place ever. “You’re something else, Callahan.”
I say nothing. I just lift my head and keep my eyes glued on the whiteboard as Mr. Curtin keeps talking. I reach for the brand-new binder that’s already on the table in front of me and flip it open, finding the color-coded tab for chemistry and turning to that section so I can slip the syllabus into the folder. I can feel Ash watch me the entire time, that smirk returning when I glare at him, and he looks ready to laugh.
“You’re one of those girls who gets off in office supply stores, huh.” Somehow he makes that sentence sound dirty.
“I do not.” I lift my chin, not daring to look in his direction.
He scoots his chair toward mine, closer and closer, until his breath causes strands of hair to fan across my face. “Liar.” His breath is hot, his voice low as he speaks directly into my ear. “I bet you practically cream your panties every time you’re in the planner section.”
A gasp leaves me and I turn my head so fast, our noses practically touch. He rears back, though not far enough. Anger has my blood running hot, though it’s not enough to drown out the weird, tingly feeling I’m experiencing.
I hate that weird, tingly feeling with everything I’ve got.
I also hate Asher Davis.
“You’re disgusting,” I practically spit at him.
He leans back in his chair, looking very pleased with himself. “You like it.”
“No,” I say vehemently. “No, I do not.”
“Is there a problem here, Mr. Davis? Miss Callahan?” Mr. Curtin asks.
Ash says, “No.”
At the same time, I say, “Yes.”
Curtin rests his hands on his hips, staring us both down. The entire classroom has gone silent once more, a few people turning in their seats to watch us, and I wish I could disappear.
This is so not how I wanted to kick off my first day of sophomore year.
“Do I need to separate you two?” Mr. Curtin continues.
“Please,” I say.
“No, we’re good,” Ash chimes in.
I glare at him again, but this time, he’s the one who won’t look at me. His clutched hands are resting on top of the table, the expression on his face is downright angelic, and that is not a word I would’ve ever associated with Asher Davis before.
“You two need to keep quiet,” Curtin finally says before he resumes his lecture yet again.
Forty long minutes later, the bell rings and I gather up my things quickly, shoving everything into my backpack without care, which is totally unlike me. I have seventh period P.E. because of cheer, and I’m guessing Ash has P.E. too since the entire football team takes weight training the last period of the day. This means we’re both headed to essentially the same place, and I don’t want him to walk by me or even try to talk to me.
I don’t want anything to do with him.
Ever.
I’m out the door before he can even get his lazy butt out of the chair, and I shoot down the hall, making my way toward the gym, where I can hide in the girls’ locker room and never have to see him again.