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.
Until tomorrow.
Ugh. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive the next semester working with him.
Withholding the agonized groan that wants to escape, I turn left, running right into someone. We collide so hard I make a weird startled noise, and strong hands reach out to grab my arms, steadying me. When I look up, I see it’s…
Asher?
He’s grinning. “Can’t get away from me that fast, Callahan.”
How did he catch up to me so quickly? It’s like he did it on purpose.
“Don’t call me that,” I tell him, which of course makes him squeeze my arms tighter. Not enough to hurt, but not enough to easily break away from him either.
“What do you want me to call you then? Autumn?” His voice pitches higher when he says my name and he makes a disgusted face, shaking his head. “That’s, like, the stupidest name ever.”
I’m totally offended, which is annoying. I’m also…hurt, which makes me mad. He shouldn’t affect me whatsoever. He’s nothing. And how I feel about him is nothing too. “Right, and Ash is such a great name,” I throw back at him, sounding absolutely ridiculous.
He releases his hold on me so fast that I stumble a little, though I catch myself before I fall. I didn’t realize how strong he is. Or how my skin is still tingling where he touched me. “It was my dad’s name.”
He sounds defensive, the expression on his face arrogant. Like I should bow at his feet and tell him how great he is.
Well screw that.
“So you both have a stupid name, huh? Ash? More like you’re a total ass. Your dad is probably an ass too, just like you.” My voice is taunting, and what I’m saying is stupid, I know it is.
But I can see the way his eyes darken—not sure how that’s possible, they’re so dark already—and I can tell he’s angry.
Maybe even…
Hurt?
No. No way.
“Real nice, Callahan.” His voice is flat, his expression devoid of any emotion. “I hope making fun of someone who’s dead makes you feel better about yourself.” And with those final words…
He walks away.
Four
“Mom?” I stand in the doorway of my parents’ bedroom, hoping she’s alone. Dad’s still at football practice and I always get home before he does. Mom might have Ava with her, or Beck. Or even Jake, though I’m pretty sure he’s locked up in his room playing video games like he usually does after school. He has youth football practice at six, so Mom will take him over to the high school in a few minutes.
I really need to talk to her before she leaves.
Mom exits her closet, stopping short when she sees me. “Oh, Autumn. I thought I heard someone calling me. You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie as I enter their bedroom and glance around, my gaze snagging on the giant windows that line the wall facing the lake. It’s a gorgeous view. Peaceful. My bedroom faces the front of the house, which isn’t as pretty. “I just wanted to ask you a question.”
“I hope I have an answer.” Mom smiles and sits on the side of the bed, patting the spot beside her.
I go to where she’s sitting and settle in, leaning my head against her chest briefly when she wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into her, squeezing me tight. It feels so good, so comforting, that I almost want to cry.
In fact, I sort of do, and she can tell, because I’m sniffing and suddenly wiping at my eyes.