The Fence || h. s.

9 || Bon Appetit

"You're joking, right?" Asa's voice is laced with disbelief. "It's like you're trying to sell some cheap romantic comedy script to me. You can't make that shit up." 

"Hardly romantic," I scoff with a roll of my eyes, "but yea, trust me… I am aware how it sounds. I'm not messing with you though."

After having baked a full batch of chocolate chip muffins, I decided to take Asa on a walk down the beach, mostly to give us the time to catch up on everything that's happened during the last few months of radio silence. Filled with doubt and—as it turned out—unnecessary nervousness, I wasn't sure what to expect from our talk. But, even before we stepped out of my house, we were already back to the same invincible duo we'd been before our fallout. 

I forgot how good it felt to have him by my side. H may be a silly goof most of the time, but he was right about one thing—having someone you can confide in is so freeing.

"You haven't told Sal any of this?" Asa asks as we near an old swing at the bottom of a hill that a very familiar house sits on. 

"No… We haven't been that close lately," I admit regretfully, knowing that I'm mostly at fault for that. "Ever since she joined that new modelling agency back in January it's like she's become a completely different person." 

Admittedly, her recent behaviour has raised alarm bells for me. She's always been overly ambitious, not only because of the desire to make her family proud, but also to prove herself worthy of being mine and Asa's friend. Which, of course, is completely irrational and unnecessary, as neither of us has ever thought of her as someone lesser than us. Still, her recent obsession with climbing the social ladder has become a bit unhealthy. 

"She's been acting strange," Asa senses my thoughts before I can voice them out loud. "I think something happened to her back in April." 

"What do you mean?" I ask, not even bothering to hide my surprise. 

"She called me one night, sounding very distressed, but wouldn't tell me what was wrong."

I find myself increasingly conflicted when it comes to Sally. At this point, it's become obvious that she's been hiding something vital from us. By the looks of it—something that has been bothering her greatly. However, as much as I'd like to pin her shitty behaviour on this unnamed problem of hers, I can't just forget the whole Ryan situation so easily. Or the fact that she only seems to contact me whenever she needs to capitalise on my fame and status. 

"Maybe you should talk to her," Asa suggests.

"Trust me, you have a way higher chance of getting through to her than me," I retort, and Asa knows not to press any further. Whenever I make my decision, it's final. 

We say very little as we approach the brick wall I'd walked past so many times on the way to my favourite spot. This time, instead of continuing uphill, I sit down on the old rackety swing with Asa soon following my lead. 

"This is where he lives, just a minute this way," I point to our right. 

"So…" Asa muses, taking a small bite of his muffin. "Your new friend must be someone important, judging by the placement of his property." 

"Quite possible," I comment flippantly.

"I mean, he's got quite an esteemed bunch of neighbours," he continues, "Brad Pitt's house five minutes that way," he points his forefinger to our left, "Ellen DeGeneres, Emma Stone, Leonardo DiCaprio…" 

"So?" I stop him, unsure where he's going with this. 

"You're not curious at all 'bout who he is?" I shake my head in response. "Really?"