Two seconds later I let out a whoosh of breath when I saw the dots move.
This was going to be bad. This was going to be really bad, because I’m pretty sure I was actually going to have to do some groveling, which was not my norm around Ash. But I had no other out.
Ash: I’m fine. Just taking a few days of vacation. No big deal.
Me: Call me. Let’s talk.
Ash: Can’t we just text?
She didn’t want to call me. Why? Because I would hear the hurt in her voice? Because she knew I could always tell when she was lying?
Me: Yes, if you tell me why.
Ash: Because this way I can think about what I want to say before I say it.
I didn’t like that, but I didn’t have much choice. And groveling via text was probably better off for me, too. Less humiliation that way. Less likely I’d say something impulsive.
Me: Okay. Let’s start with the basics. Where are you?
Ash: I don’t want to tell you. I didn’t take the trip my dad expected me to, and I’m sure he’s mad because of it. If I don’t tell you where I am and he asks you, you have plausible deniability.
Me: Why leave so suddenly? Were you really that upset I fucked up? You had to know it was a stupid screw-up.
I winced. That was a bit of a stretch. I’d given her a lot of reasons in the past to suspect I might do something that shitty. But this past year things had been different. I hadn’t been a total asshole to her the whole year. Fuck, I’d even agreed to go to a damn dance with her.
Ash: I wasn’t sure. I knew you didn’t want to go. But no, that’s not why I left. Finals are done. The last week of school is a joke and most seniors bail. You know that. Dad thought I could use a break, so I took it. See? No big deal.
Me: You’re lying.
I knew it. Her explanation seemed too easy, too pat. She never would have gotten away with that answer on a live call. That’s why she wanted to text.
Ash: You can’t tell a person is lying in text.
Me: I can when it comes to you. Maybe you’re not lying, but you’re not telling me the truth.
Ash: A girl is allowed to have secrets.
I snorted at that.
Me: Since when have we had secrets?
Ash: Since when have you ever referred to us as we?
Sometimes it really sucked she was so damn smart. I needed to take another approach.
Me: Officially, are you mad at me?
Ash: Officially, did you do something stupid to miss my prom?
I grimaced, but there was no point in lying about it. She was going to find out at some point.
Me: Officially yes. But that was after doing something I thought was a better idea to not risk being late. That idea backfired. Pretty bad.
Ash: Were you hurt?
Me: No. Next question. When are you coming back?
Ash: Not sure. It was a one-way ticket.
What? I thought. That was crazy.
Me: Graduation is next week!
Ash: You said it yourself. Putting on some goofy gown to walk across a stage is stupid.
I’d shot down the whole idea of attending my high school graduation ceremony. That had upset both George and Ash, but I hated the whole idea. Listening to a bunch of lame-ass speeches about the hope and promise of tomorrow. Lining up like soldiers to get a piece of paper. Everyone standing around taking pictures with their families. Not. For. Me.
But Ash wasn’t like me. She liked the normal things. She wanted to experience what others her age were, so she could fit in, even though she never really did.
Things like prom.
Shit.
Me: Your father is not going to let you get away with not walking.
Ash: He wasn’t going to be able to make it. Big meeting in Manhattan. He told me weeks ago.
He wasn’t going to figure out a way to attend his daughter’s graduation? That motherfucker. I looked behind me, down the slope of property that ended in the huge mansion that was soulless for all its pompous stature and expense.
I didn’t have a mother because she was an addict. What the fuck was his excuse for not being a father to his only daughter?
Me: Okay, fine. What about your birthday? Will you be home for that?
Ash: Not sure. Maybe.
Me: It’s your birthday, Ash.
Ash: I know. What’s the big deal?
Me: You’re going to be eighteen. It’s a big fucking deal.
Ash: I made you a cake, decorated the carriage house and got you the Bose headset you wanted for your eighteenth birthday. Do you remember what you said?
“You shouldn’t have bothered,” I muttered. That’s what I’d said. The cake had been awesome. The headset was still awesome. I could put it on in the library and study for hours without hearing a peep around me.
I was such a freaking jerk.
Me: You can’t use my example of being an asshole as your excuse for being an asshole.
She didn’t reply to that. Then I smiled a little evilly as I thought of my next card.
Me: If you come home, I’ll take you out for your birthday. Some place fancy. You can dress up and I’ll wear a suit. I’ll order the cake and the waiter will bring it with a candle so you can blow it out.
There was a pause in her reply. and I knew I had her. I pretty much knew Ash had wanted me to take her out on a date since she was fourteen years old. There was no way she would turn me down now.
Ash: Am I Charlie Brown? Are you Lucy and the date is the football? And you’re just going to keep pulling it away at the last second?
Totally understandable why she thought that. I’d pulled away a lot of footballs.
Me: Not this time. I promise.
Ash: That’s what Lucy always says.
There was a pause while the dots flickered.
Ash: There will be candlelight? And cake?
Got her.
Me: Yes on the cake. Not sure on the candlelight. Do all fancy restaurants come with that?
Ash: Yes. Will there be kissing?
I smirked. She always had to be a smartass about this shit. But the tightness in my chest had eased over the course of our conversation. She wasn’t mad at me officially. She sounded like herself and not some distraught young woman who’d been emotionally scarred from being stood up for the prom.
Me: We don’t kiss.
Ash: No, you don’t kiss me. Not the same thing at all.
I ended it there because I always ended it when she started talking about either sex, her virginity or kissing. She wouldn’t be upset at my non-response. She would be expecting it.
She was enjoying some time off. She wasn’t going to bother with graduation, but at least I could make up for the prom debacle on her birthday.
Everything was fine.
At least that’s what I tried to tell myself.
Ash being away from me…I meant, away from home…was no big deal. I got up from my perch, and, with a rare smile on my face, walked back to the carriage house to let George know Ash was fine.
As I had no invitation to enter the big house, I told Landen nothing.
12
San Diego
Later that afternoon
Ashleigh
Someone knocked on my door and it startled me. I’d been curled up in a window seat reading a book and intermittently people-watching as folks moved about the Gaslamp Quarter below.
After Marc and I texted, I felt infinitely better. The sting of him standing me up for the prom was still there, but didn’t hurt nearly as much. Although I was curious to know what had backfired so badly he missed the whole night.