violet skies / michael clifford

high school dropout

34. he won't give up without a fight, jessa

The moment it becomes lunchtime, Ashton grabs me by the arm and drags me towards one of the tables outside. He's been trying to tell me something all morning, and since I've got my phone taken, communicating from opposite sides of the classroom has been more challenging than usual. I don't think he's caught anything I've tried to say. At least I haven't understood a single one of his strange hand gestures or mouth movements.

"Why didn't you check your texts? I've tried to reach you all weekend!" he says, sitting down.

"My dad took my phone," I sigh.

"Why? What did you do?"

"Michael effed up and didn't get me back home on time after the concert."

"Oh, I see." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Ash, no. None of that."

I mean, Michael sort of reached for my hand as he drove, but that's about it. Oh yeah, and we did kiss after dinner. In the parking lot, in the most unflattering yellow light from the streetlights. All I could think about was how gross it must have made me look and how bad my breath was. Michael kissed me anyway.

And I kissed back.

It was short and sweet. I like that about Michael; he's rough at the edges, but all soft inside. I like that a lot.

Ashton interrupts my Michael-filled thoughts.

"Not even a birthday kiss?" he asks.

"Yeah, we did kiss." For once, I'm not blushing whilst talking about Michael. Shouldn't I be?

"How was it?"

"I wasn't prepared, so I didn't have any polos. I probably tasted like pasta sauce and garlic bread."

"Thats so disgusting! Are you serious? Rule number one when you're around hot people is like to always bring mints."

"Yeah, I know," I say, "I guess I didn't think he'd kiss me."

"But like, you're so thirsty you'd drink his face like it was water and you're the desert. How were you not prepared to snog his face off?"

Ashton pushes his hair back. He's not straightened it today. Looks good on him, the curls falling around his face. I bet Luke likes that.

"I'm not dependent on him like that. You're acting as if he's the air I breathe. I'm fine on my own, he just makes things a little better. A little brighter."

"So if he left tomorrow, you'd be fine?"

I feel my breath hitching in my throat. "Why are you saying that?"

"Never mind." Ashton tries to change the subject. "Did he walk you the door when you got home?"

"My dad was practically pushing me inside before I could even say bye to him."

"Well that sucks."

There's a silence. I open my packet of crisps, trying not to chew them too loudly. I hate the crunching noise. It makes me cringe. But the cheddar and onion goodness is too good and soon enough I'm just munching them down anyway.

"Goodbyes suck," I say, putting a other couple of crisps into my mouth.

Ashton drums his fingers lightly against the table. "About that."

"About what?" I stop chewing. There's a weird silence falling over us. Maybe I'm overanalysing, but Ashton suddenly looks a bit pale.

"Things are moving pretty fast."