“What about boys? You got a boyfriend yet? Someone pushing you to get to second base? Who is it? I’ll kill him.”
“She doesn’t,” Marc announced. “And stop talking about that stuff.”
“How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?” I asked Marc.
“George,” he said as if that was enough of an answer.
Had he asked George? Had George simply volunteered that information? What else did George tell him about me?
“Marc,” Chris said, coming up behind him with his joint in hand. “Take a hit and chill out. We’re all cool. Ashleigh’s cool, too. Right, Ashleigh? Want to loosen up?”
Chris held the joint out to me. I’d never done drugs before, but I knew it was kind of a rite of passage. A hit on a joint. I didn’t see the harm it could do. Why not experience it once?
I reached out to take it, when Marc stepped between Chris and me and smacked my hand away. “Fuck no.”
“I want to try,” I said.
“Yeah, Marc, she wants to try.”
Marc glared at Chris, then turned on me. “You’re not pulling any fucking smoke into your lungs. You get me?”
“I’m fine, Marc. It’s been a year and I haven’t even—”
“Not a fucking thing in those lungs,” he snarled.
Greg tightened his hold on me. Almost instinctively, like he could feel the ripple effects of Marc’s anger toward me. But I was used to it.
“Fine,” I said.
“Fine,” he bit off. “You brought the food and soda. You said hi to the guys…you can leave now.”
“She just got here,” Greg insisted. Then he did the unthinkable and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping both arms around me. I wasn’t even sure how I knew what that was going to do to Marc, I just knew I immediately reacted by trying to pull away.
“It’s fine,” I said. “He’s right. You guys probably just want to hang out without me getting in the way. I only wanted to bring you some food.”
“No, I kind of like having someone to cuddle with,” Greg said defiantly. “You’re soft, Ashleigh. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Let her up now,” Marc said quietly. Too quietly.
I pushed off Greg’s chest and Greg immediately opened his arms to let me go, sensing that Marc wasn’t playing.
“What’s the matter, Marc? Can’t handle someone treating Ashleigh with something other than contempt?” Greg pushed him.
“You don’t know shit about shit. Ash, get the fuck out. Now!”
I didn’t wait for him to yell at me a second time. I took off and someone else slammed the door closed behind me. I pulled my sweater over my hands, which were immediately cold, and started up the path to the main house.
Alone.
Marc
“Dude. What is your problem?”
I looked at Greg, who had asked the question, then grabbed the joint Chris was still holding and took a hit. It didn’t help. Pot never did affect me much, and for the most part, as the child of an addict, I didn’t mess around with drugs at all beyond the occasional hit or two. Same with drinking, but right now I wanted a beer.
Not answering Greg, because really there was no answer, I opened the fridge and pulled out one of the beers I’d stocked there earlier this afternoon. A night alone with my old teammates. Some beer, now some food, because that was Ash. It should have been fun, only now I was torn up inside.
The room seemed to go back to normal. The guys were passing around the chips and shit Ash brought. Only Greg was looking at me strangely.
He walked over, his hands held out as if to suggest he was coming in peace. He grabbed a grape soda out of the cooler and popped it open.
“Seriously, man, I don’t think I ever got what your deal with her was.”
“I don’t have a deal with her. She just lives in the big house on the estate where I’m allowed to live with my uncle.”
“Nah, man. I’ve seen you with other girls. You’re always chill. Always respectful. But with her, all I’ve ever seen her do is be there for you at every single game, win or lose. If you even bothered to acknowledge her presence, you would snap at her for something. One time you gave her shit because she brought you the wrong flavor of Gatorade.”
Because I could. Because Ash let me.
“She’s a hottie now,” Greg added. “Grew up real good.”
“She’s only fucking sixteen, and if you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
Again, Greg lifted his hands in the air and started to walk away. “Message received loud and clear. Ashleigh is off limits.”
Good. Because that was exactly the message I wanted to make sure everyone received.
Eventually, the guys left. I made sure no one who was drinking or stoned drove, then I opened all the windows to clear the smell of pot out of the house. George wasn’t stupid, but he was pretty cool about shit like that.
He’d taught me to drive at fifteen. Let me have beer once I turned eighteen. He knew I would never let my shit get out of control with drugs or booze, and, once he understood that, we were cool.
I was an adult now. In college, with my path and future clearly in sight. I’d even debated coming back here for the break. I worked part-time at a restaurant near campus, waiting and bussing tables. I could have stayed and picked up a few more shifts. After all, George had done right by me for six years, but he didn’t owe me anything now that I was legal.
And I was tired of paying my dues with Arthur Landen. If I was here, he expected me to be working on the property. George must have known I was considering bailing on the whole trip, because he’d started talking about family, and how he missed me, and how it wouldn’t be right not to be together for Thanksgiving.
So I came back for him. If I was being honest, I came back for Ash, too. Only because I knew it would upset her if I didn’t.
Stepping outside the carriage house, I realized it was cold. But instead of going back inside for a coat, I jogged up the path to the main house. The back door was always open, and I didn’t hesitate to let myself in, even though I knew Ash was alone in the house.
I made my way through the kitchen, into the massive living area, and up the double wide staircase. It was funny to think, in all the years I’d lived on the estate, Ash spent way more time with me and George at the carriage house than I’d ever spent here, in the big house.
I didn’t go to the main house often. Last time had been after Ash had gotten out of the hospital. I’d come up to her room a few times in the days following her release to check on her. Landen had been coming down the hall and had spotted me leaving her room. There had been no threats then; he seemed to acknowledge these were extenuating circumstances. But he hadn’t been happy.
Since then, I’d continued to steer clear of Ash and follow the rules.
Tonight I hadn’t. Friends at the house. Drugs and alcohol. And now I was standing outside of Ash’s bedroom door.
I knocked. Heard a scramble, then she opened the door.
“Do you just open the door to anyone who knocks?” I snapped.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re the only other person on the estate, Marc.”
“I could have been a burglar,” I said, leaning against her door frame. I didn’t want to step inside. That seemed like it would be crossing a line.