“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
It’s killing me that she’s asking that. I don’t want to lie to her, but nothing happened. I may be angry at Ash, but I’m not going to get him kicked out of this house. Even if I have to avoid him until we graduate high school, I’ll do what’s best for him.
I’m either that kind, or that stupid.
“I’m not lying, Mom. Do you mind if I go back to bed now?” I quickly glance back at her, guilt swamping me when I see the concerned look on her face. I look away, fighting fresh tears yet again.
She gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Good night. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I suck my tears up and head back to my room, where I slip quietly into my bed. Kaya is sleeping on the other side of the mattress, and when I pull the comforter over me, she doesn’t even move. She’s dead to the world.
I wish I could be so lucky. I’d rather sleep and forget my earlier argument with Ash ever happened. Maybe it was all a dream—or a nightmare—and I’ll wake up in the morning realizing that I never snuck out to meet Ash. We didn’t get mad at each other. And Mom didn’t catch me crying in the kitchen.
But I know the truth. It happened, and we’re going to have to face each other tomorrow, whether we like it or not.
You’re Playing with Matches
And I Have a Paper Heart
(The Mayfair)
Thirty-One
Ash
I toss and turn all night, unable to think of anything else but me telling Autumn to leave my room and the look of total devastation on her pretty face before she ran out.
I am an undisputed asshole. I always have been, and I always will be. What happened last night just confirmed it. Didn’t help that Mom kept texting me throughout the day, along with Rylie, irritating me more and more with each notification. Neither of them would leave me alone, and I took my frustration out on Autumn.
Meaning yep, I’m definitely an asshole.
Giving up on sleep completely at around five in the morning, I grab my phone and check my notifications. I’ve got all kinds of Snaps from various people wondering if I’m dead or alive—valid question. I’m in a group chat via direct messages on Instagram with most of the players from the varsity football team and they’re all talking about how great Jake played, and whether I’m going to bother showing up to practice or not come Monday after school.
Well, well, well. Aren’t they in for a fucking surprise?
Mom texted me, a bunch of whiny please come back type messages, but I ignore every single one of them. She doesn’t mean it.
She never does.
Rylie texted me yet again too. Angry shit that only seems to get worse when I ignore her. I don’t know how to handle her, and I feel like I’ve handled some crazy girls in my lifetime. But this one? She’s fucking unhinged.
Deciding I’m safe to send a text since it’s five in the damn morning, I type out a response and send it.
Rylie. Get it through your head. We’re through. I don’t want to be with you. Stop texting me all day and night. I’m over it. I’m over YOU. Keep this shit up and I’m fucking blocking you.
I hope she leaves me alone. If not, I will block her everywhere.
I’m scrolling through Instagram, bored out of my mind, pissed at myself for hurting the one good thing in my life, when I get a text notification from Rylie the psycho.
You can’t just ignore me! I told you I needed to talk to you, but since you won’t meet me anywhere or answer my calls, I guess I’ll just tell you now.
I’m just about to block her number, as in my finger is literally hovering over the button that says Block this Caller when I get the next message.
I’M PREGNANT AND IT’S YOURS.
The phone slips out of my fingers, falling onto the mattress with a soft thud. What the hell? She’s gotta be fucking with me. I grab my phone and start typing.
I don’t believe you.
Her response is quick.
I have proof.
Proof of what?
That I’m pregnant.
My heart thunders in my chest as I wait for her so-called proof. She sends a photo, and at first I can’t tell what the hell it is, until I realize it’s one of those ultrasound things.
That’s our baby.
Squinting, I study the photo. It doesn’t look anything like a baby. It looks like a bean.
I count back in my head, thinking to when we first hooked up. The very beginning of August, maybe? Nah, more like mid-August, right before school started. It was a hot night, and I was feeling lonely, hanging out at the lake with a bunch of people from school, watching as they all coupled up and I had no one. She appeared out of nowhere, all alone and wearing a crop top that showed off her tits and flat stomach, and the shortest denim shorts that gave me a flash of her ass cheeks every time she turned around. Next thing I knew she was sucking my dick out behind a grove of pine trees and we ended up having sex.
Pretty sure I used a condom too.
Well???? Do you have anything to say???
What am I supposed to say? Gee, yay can’t wait! Let’s get married!
I don’t think so.
Instead, I tell her, I don’t believe you.
It’s yours, Asher. I know it.
We had sex for the first time not even a month ago, I reply, anger making me see red. I feel like she’s trying to trick me. I don’t understand why.
One time is all it takes is her response.
Then she sends a baby face emoji.
This time I toss my phone and it hits the floor with a loud thunk. I run my hands through my hair, tugging on it until it starts to hurt, and I appreciate the pain. At least it makes me feel something.
Why is everyone piling up on me, trying to tear me down? I don’t fucking get it. What did I do to deserve this? I just want to live my life in peace. Get through my senior year and get the fuck out of this town. I might even leave now, if everything with the Callahan family goes to shit.
That thought alone almost breaks my hard-as-steel heart.
I ignore my phone, though I can hear all the text notifications coming through as Rylie continuously sends me messages. I throw myself down on the bed and turn on my side, facing the wall, my back to my phone. Fuck this. I don’t need anyone.
Anyone.
Somehow I fall asleep, and have disturbing dreams. Rylie showing up at school with a stroller, not just one but two babies crying uncontrollably inside it. Autumn running away when she spots me and Rylie with the babies, and me chasing after her all while Rylie is screaming NO! in a voice that reminds me of a monster.
Don’t need a professional analysis to understand what that’s all about.
I wake up around nine and hear a bunch of voices coming from the kitchen. I lie there and listen to them, their joyful chatter and laughter making my heart clench. This house is nothing like mine. It’s big and airy and filled with happiness. There’s no TV blaring all the time, always on to the point that you don’t even notice it anymore. Not a bunch of yelling either, or dirty dishes in the sink, the smell of cigarettes lingering in the hazy air. This family actually gets along, they talk things out, they respect each other. Normally this sort of thing would irritate the crap out of me. I’d think it was a bunch of Mickey Mouse horseshit.