“Ash…”
“Don’t say another word, Callahan. You know you want this.” His mouth rests on mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. His lips are parted, and so are mine, and it’s as if we’re breathing each other’s breath. Filling each other with strength.
With courage.
“Say it. Say you’ll meet me later.” When he speaks, his lips tickle mine, and I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll meet you,” I whisper, and he kisses me. A simple, sweet kiss that makes me burn for more.
“Now let’s get the hell out of here,” he says as he slowly pulls away, settling once more in the passenger seat.
It takes everything I have to not speed home. Ash strikes up conversation, talking about miscellaneous stuff, and I can’t believe how casual we are. How normal this feels. Everything is always so high intensity when Ash and I are together, that it’s nice, just driving home and gossiping about people at school. Laughing over something that happened at last week’s football game. Getting annoyed with him but not really when he starts making fun of some of our dumber cheers.
Yes, we have a few dumb cheers. Yes, sometimes we’re embarrassed to do them in front of the crowds, but our cheer coaches make us, and honestly, a lot of the people in the stands seem to appreciate them. So we do them. And grin and bear it every single time.
“I like knowing you’re cheering me on, Callahan,” he says right when I turn onto my street.
My whole body grows warm. “Really? Or are you just saying that?”
“I’ve told you before, I always can make out your voice above everyone else’s when you guys are cheering. Even when I’m out on the field and my head is buzzing, trying to make the next play. Knowing that you’re yelling for me, encouraging me…” He rests his hand over his heart. “It does something to me inside.”
Laughing, I reach out and push on his rock-hard bicep, shaking my head. “You’re so full of it.”
“I’m being real with you right now.” He is dead serious when he says it too.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Now he’s laughing as I pull into my driveway. “There’s something about you. You turn me into a sappy motherfucker.”
“I do?”
He nods, grabbing my arm when I make to open my door. I turn to look at him, hoping like hell my little brother doesn’t come running out, or worse, my mom. She’s home now. Her car is in the garage and here we are, staring at each other a little too closely.
“Once I’m inside, I’m going to talk to Rylie. I’m a shit person for not doing it face to face, but fuck it. I’ll at least call her. Maybe even FaceTime her.”
“Um, all right.” I mean, what am I supposed to say to that?
“So I might be in my room for a little while, because Rylie is pretty damn persistent,” he says. “She might not go easy.”
I nod once. “O-okay.”
“And we’re still on for eleven at the hot tub?”
I nod again.
He smiles, and the sight of it makes my heart sing. “Good. See you later.” He grabs his duffel bag from the backseat…
And then he’s gone.
Twenty-Two
I am an unfocused mess for the rest of the evening. At the dinner table, I ignore pretty much everyone. I’m so inside my head I keep staring off into space. The entire family is sitting at the table tonight, including Ash. Jake glares whenever Dad speaks to him, and I send Jake looks of my own, trying to kick him to make him knock it off, but I can’t reach across the table to make contact with his leg, damn it.
There’s no need for him to be jealous of Ash. Jake will have his glory moments for the next two years as our varsity quarterback. He needs to relax.
Mom keeps sending me strange looks and asks me twice if I’m feeling all right, and I tell her I’m just tired.
Ash snickers under his breath, the jerk.
Ava goes on and on about some girl in her class who let a boy touch her butt if he gave her some candy, and she’s beyond irritated. Ava is a bigger feminist than Mom and I put together, and we tell her to complain to the principal about it. But then she says she doesn’t want to be known as a snitch, so she isn’t sure what to do.
Just another fun day at our high school.
Every few minutes, I catch Ash watching me, his mouth curved into the faintest smile. I think he likes my annoying family, though I’m not sure how he can. When we’re all together, it’s always a little chaotic. Beck brought a Spider-Man action figure to the dinner table, and while he’s not as much into action figures as he once was, he’s feeling it tonight. Trying to feed Spidey dinner with his fork, or trying to get him to drink, or hooking the toy’s curved hands onto the edge of the salad bowl.
Beck is also irritating the shit out of our mother, who keeps telling him to knock it off and put the toy away. Beck pouts, Mom eventually relents, and then it’s the same thing, again and again.
Jake is sullen over football bullshit. Dad tells Ava to stay off her phone. Ash is keeping his conversation to a minimum, with the exception when Mom asks him about college.
“I doubt I can get in to any colleges,” he tells her, wiping his mouth with a napkin. I’m staring at him like some sort of freak, and when he catches me, he offers up a quick wink in my direction. That should be cheesy, but my heart flutters.
Mom looks downright offended. “Why not? How are your grades?”
“They’re not terrible, but they’re not straight As either,” he answers.
“What are they then?” Mom asks.
“Mostly Bs. I always manage a few As in the easy classes. Freshman year I got a C in math because that shit is hard.” He sends Mom a remorseful look. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look, Ash, I think you should try to apply to some colleges. With your sports ability and grades, you could probably get accepted to a few state colleges. Maybe you could even get a scholarship,” Mom says.
“I don’t know about that,” he starts, but Mom shakes her head, silencing him.
“Go to the office tomorrow and meet with a counselor. Get your transcripts and bring them home so we can go over them. My gut is telling me you could get in somewhere. You still have time to apply.”
He smiles when Mom said bring them home. I’m sure he liked that.
I sort of like it too. That my parents have so readily accepted him. If you’d told me Asher Davis would be staying with us a few days ago, I would’ve laughed. I also would’ve freaked.
But having him here has drawn us closer together. It’s also helped us be honest with each other. For once.
“I’d love to get out of here, that’s for sure,” he mutters.
My heart aches for him. Now that I’ve seen where he comes from, I understand somewhat why he acts the way he does. Why he’s so self-destructive. He needs someone to believe in him. Like my mom. Like me.
I want to be that person.
If he’ll let me.
We’re all roped into helping Mom clean the kitchen, and somehow I got put on dishwashing duty with Ash. He rinses the dishes and I set them in the dishwasher, and we wash the remaining pots and pans Mom prefers to be cleaned by hand. I don’t understand the point of a dishwasher if it can’t wash all your dishes, but whatever.