10 Ways To Get On The Bad Boy's Good Side {Completed} {UNDER RECONSTRUCTION}

C.20~The Mighty Fall

After about an hour everything started to calm down. Darren came out of his room to get some pizza before going back to it and slamming the door shut behind him. Asher had sprawled himself out across the floor, as if he was used to sleeping there. Britt was curled up on the couch watching an episode of Supernatural while I sat on the loveseat, my arms wrapped around myself.

"What happened?" I finally asked, looking at Asher and Britt.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked.

"With your dad. When you came in here you had a fresh bruise under your eye." I whispered. He shook his head and looked away.

"It's nothing that concerns you, Rosalie." I stood up, throwing my hands in the air.

"Nothing that concerns me? That piece of crap is beating you, Asher. He's tried to beat Britt. Do you not care?" Asher was in front of me within seconds, sending Britt to her feet.

"Of course I care! If I didn't would I be standing here right now? If I didn't care I would have let him beat me to death a long time ago." I recoiled, my own eyes burning when I saw Britt start crying.

"Ash, stop. Please." She whimpered. Asher grabbed my wrist.

"If I didn't care I wouldn't have come back to school. Do you think I like this bad boy image that everyone makes of me? I hate it. I hate the girls that throw themselves at me like little whores. I hate the girls that come to me so they can make their boyfriends jealous. I hate it all, Rosalie. I wish my life was as easy as yours. All you have to do is smile and everyone will think you're this beautiful entity, this perfect little princess." I could feel my nails starting to dig into my palm as I stared at Asher in horror.

"Rosie," Asher said quietly, pulling something out of his back pocket. I watched him open his wallet and pull something out of it.

"You, you were the only one that believed in me when no one else did." I stared at the thing in his hand in horror, my mind completely flickering back to the memory of when I had given him the Valentine's Day card.

"Look! Look at all the Valentine's I got!" Britt exclaimed, her pigtails slapping against her back as she dumped them on to my desk. I giggled along with her as I went through them. She must have been the most popular third grader in school.

"How many did you get?" She asked, looking around me. I held up the bag of my own, handing them to her. She started to claw threw them as the kids around us all laughed and giggled as they recited their cards aloud. My eyes flickered to the boy in the back of the room, Asher Davis. He had always been quiet and no one would dare to speak to him.

"He didn't get any," Britt said, seeing where I was looking, "He's so weird." I shook my head, frowning.

"Everyone should get a Valentine's Day card." I responded, reaching into my backpack for a spare card. It had a puppy on it, with a cute quote above it. I quickly sprawled out my name and wrote what I wanted to say inside.

Dear Asher,

Everyone deserves a card. Maybe sometimes you should smile so people can see how awesome you are. Have a good day. R. H.

"Rosie, no." Britt hissed, staring at me strangley as I stood up. I ignored her and walked to the back of the room, staring at the boy with dark brown hair. His striking blue eyes darted up when he heard me approach.

"What?" He snapped coldly. I laid the card on his desk.

"Everyone deserves to be happy."

**

"You wrote them every year. Even when we got to middle school, you would find a way to sneak them into my locker. But this one, this was the first." Asher held the card out to me as I snapped back into reality. The cute puppy that had once been on it had started to fade with wear.

"Asher. . ." I breathed out, staring at it. He had kept it this long?

"Any time I thought about giving up I thought back to the little girl that was still out there, the only person that believed in me." He took the card back from me, slipping it back into his wallet as if it were a priceless artifact.

"Every time that belt, or his fist, or even sometimes a cigarette would come down on me, would hit my skin, I wanted to leave this world. I wanted to be something other than my dad's personal punching bag, you know. Everyone makes me into this person that can do any wrong, but that's all I've done my whole life." I shook my head but couldn't find anything to say. When I turned back to Britt I found her staring at us while wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm a man-whore. A player. A sexist, egotistical, pig. That's every single thing you have ever said to me. And you know what, you're right. But the only reason I actually agree to sleep with them is because it's a great distraction. I don't have to think about my life for once. And when I act sexist or try to flirt, it's because I can't let anyone know. I can't." I heard Britt let out a strange sound from the couch, something in between a cry and a groan.

"Ash." She stood up and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around him. I suddenly felt out of place, like I was intruding. I started to walk away but Asher caught my arm.

"Rosie. Is. . . the game. . . it's over, right?" I nodded and stared down at his hand.

"That means that neither of us win." I shrugged.

"I guess so." He looked almost. . . relieved?

"Friends? We can be friends, right?" I stared at him in surprise. This was a side of Asher I had never seen. A non-sexist side that actually cared about other people and could say something without it being to win a girl over.

"Sure." I smiled, "I thought we already were." He smiled back. It was Britt who broke the silence.

"Rosalie, do you have any popcorn?"

***

When I woke up in the morning I was surprised by my position. Britt was on the couch, taking the whole thing up despite her being tiny. I had fallen asleep on the floor, my head resting on Asher's arm. I was so close to him I could smell my brother's shampoo still in his hair and could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Crap." I whispered, sitting up. I looked down at his arm, swallowing a lump when I saw his sleeve pulled up and something scribbled on his skin in cursive, it was probably half of a tattoo.

"Asher." I tried to shake him awake but he only groaned and turned his face toward me.

He looked young. His lips were pulled up in a crooked smile as if he had fallen asleep with it like that. His hair was ruffled and on the pillow under his head. The bruise under his eye had grown darker and looked nastier then it had last night. I brushed my hand along it, feeling my heart clench.

"What are you doing?" Britt groaned, looking down at me from the couch. I rolled back over and laid my head back on Asher's arm, shaking my head.

"Nothing." I replied quietly. She mumbled something under her breath and I looked up at the ceiling, my heart racing. Asher had seemed. . . different last night. Like he had finally hit his breaking point. He had acted as if he had wanted me to see the real Asher Davis, not the one that hid behind his man-whore facade. And. . . and I liked it. I liked being able to see the real Asher Davis.

"You like him." My mind shot back. I shook my head to myself and shut my eyes. I couldn't like Asher, I had to listen to Britt. Asher was too much like a drug and only God knows what would happen if I got addicted.

****AN***

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~ChasingMadness24