Then and now

Chapter 2: Amiras POV

He looks so different. Bigger, older, more manly. For some reason, I had it in my head that he would still look 13. I was completely wrong about that.

When my dad told me that they were coming over, I felt a little nervous. Excited even, and I haven't gotten excited in years.

That feeling didn't last long though. The antidepressants that I have to take squash any emotion that I have pretty quickly.

I'm feeling self-conscious in my baggy clothes and my bare face. He looks so nice. I would have gotten dressed up like my dad told me to do, but I couldn't find the energy to get out of bed until I heard the knock at the front door.

His hair still looks the same. Messy, flopping over his eyebrows, dirty blonde. I always hated as a kid how his hair was lighter than mine. Every little girl wants blonde hair and blue eyes like the models. I've never had either of those, with my brunette hair and my dark brown eyes.

He catches me staring and I blush and look away. It is very rare now for me to care enough to get nervous, let alone giddy. It is a scary feeling for me. It is almost how I felt when I first met Logan.

That thought makes a shiver go down my spine.

I look up to see Asher still looking at me, like he is trying to figure me out. I don't like it. I do not want him to know my past. That was my first thought when he got here. He is full of hope and happiness, and I feel like I'm the opposite. I think he wants me to be the girl that he left here 5 years ago, but I've even been struggling to get out of bed every day to do simple things like brush my teeth and eat. 

I have a small plate of food in front of me. My dad made a roast- the first meal he has cooked me in months. The first meal since people came over for Christmas probably, and it is already summer break.

My dad used to be the best. He used to always hang out with me and Asher, take us places, and just be an awesome dad. A couple of months after Asher left, my dad started to change. He started to stay at work a lot, even sleeping there sometimes. It just got worse over time. Now he barely even acknowledges me and I'm lucky if I get a good morning from him. He thinks of me as a problem that he can just throw money at. 

Once we finish our food, the adults tell us to do the dishes and clean up so I get up to start to do that. Asher and I clear the table without talking to each other, the only noise is the loud chatter of our parents and his little brother in the next room.

Only when I start to do the dishes does Asher say something.

"You look different," I stop and stare at him, shocked by his statement. The first thing he says to me is 'You look different?' Not up to a great start Asher. I don't even want to fucking be here.

"Yeah. Growing up will do that to you," My tone is nonchalant and I keep my eyes trained on the sink, though I can feel his eyes on me. 

"Sorry. I just meant that you look good. We didn't even get a chance to talk back there."

"Yeah. I guess we didn't," We finish up the dishes and he gestures for me to follow him.

He walks out of the kitchen and into the backyard.

"Where are we going?" I certainly didn't want to leave the house tonight. He leads me around the side of the house to the front yard, and my heart swells at the fact that he remembers how to get around.

"To the park of course," I almost laugh at the nostalgia that this gives me. We used to skip on cleaning up and go across to the park, just as we are doing now. 

We cross the road and I quickly sit down on the nice, soft, green grass. I sit a good distance away from him, not wanting to get too close just in case.

"How was New York?" I surprise myself by speaking first, curiosity getting the better of me.

"It was really good. I'm going to miss it. We had a really nice apartment, and I got to go to a private school on the nice side. It was always really loud and busy though. Nice to be back, you know?" He speaks slowly and confidently, something that I can admire. I lay back down onto the grass and close my eyes. All I can think about is how exhausted I am, and I've only been out of bed for three quarters of an hour. 

"Uh, how have you been?" He fills the silence and I take a second to decide how to reply to this question.

"Good. Fine. Pretty normal honestly." I almost reply too fast, too unsure. I've practiced my answer a bunch. Whenever someone says something along the lines of "how are you?" Or "how are things?" I want to say, 'Bad. Really bad.' But instead, I say, 'Good. Fine. Normal.' And I almost never elaborate.

"Yeah. That's good. What's the high school here like?" He is looking at me like he wants to say more, almost like he is holding back. I feel the same. When we were kids we never kept anything from each other. We trusted each other with everything in us. The inner child in me wants to jump into his arms, cry and tell him everything that happened while he was gone. But I know that I can't do that. I never can. He would never want to be friends with a girl like me, and I don't really care. Friends are a lot of work and energy that I don't have. 

I realize that I haven't answered his question about our highschool. I debate on how I'm going to answer his question. Sandbrook High is the only high school in our small town. I hate it so much. Everyone looks at me like they have to step on eggshells around me like I'm a freak. That never used to happen until everyone found out about what happened. 

"It's alright I guess. School always sucks though," I give him a small smile, because I remember that he used to hate learning and everything else to do with school. He always liked seeing his friends though. I wonder if he has a girlfriend back in New York. He probably does. A girlfriend, a huge friend group, amazing social life. He has always been like that, likeable. Easy to be around. 

He lets out a small chuckle, showing his obvious dimples. 

"Yeah. School in New York was so strict. My parents had me going to some fancy private school. All snooby rich kids." He lays back on the grass next to me, our shoulders almost touching. I try to be subtle when I scoot a couple of inches over. 

I just nod in response, but I'm not sure he even saw me nod because I am lying face up next to him.

A couple minutes of comfortable silence later I hear my dad call out to us. I look at him and nod towards my house. We both get up and start walking back to the house. 

"Some things never change huh?" Asher grins at me and I give him a small smile and a nod back. 

Asher and his family leave shortly after we get back into the house, and I don't get a chance to talk to him. As soon as they leave the tension between me and my dad is back. 

"You couldn't dress up nicer?" His tone is sharp and mean, and it takes everything in me not to pick up the nearest object and throw it at him. I want to scream and cry and yell at him. But I don't. I don't respond and climb the stairs to my room. 

My room is a mess. I have to step over clothes and plates and wrappers just to get to my bed. I know that I have the house and the money that some girls dream of, but if you are wealthy it doesn't mean that you are happy. It helps make life easier, but as they say- 'Money doesn't buy happiness'. 

I lay down in my bed and put headphones over my ears. I play my music at full blast, something that I do when my head is racing. If the music is loud enough then it can overpower my thoughts. Silence my head. That is all that I want. Silence.