Deciding on You || a.i. (Book 2)

32 | Maddie

There is a wave of calmness that washes over me any time I'm around Ashton. It's a sense of safety that I never felt before him, and in his presence, I feel lighter, no longer weighed down by what has happened to me.

But recently, I haven't gotten to feel that. It's not that the feeling has left, but he has. Or, at least, his mind has.

Beside me in Chemistry, he scribbles illegibly about chemical bonding in his notebook, stopping every so often to curse himself. Either because he didn't write the notes down fast enough or he simply doesn't understand, he taps his pencil on the paper and mutters obscenities under his breath.

I'm trying to take notes too, but he's distracting. In all the time I've really known him, he's always been kind of down on himself, but never like this. Now, his self-doubts are consuming him.

At once, he puts his pencil down and rubs his hands over his face, sighing. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening them and starting his frustrated note-taking process all over again.

When he puts his left hand down on the table, I reach for it. He looks at me as I lace my fingers with his, and the tension on his face fades only slightly. His mouth twitches in what I think is a smile before he starts writing again.

I keep my hand in his and refrain from breaking the contact to take my own notes. Instead, I watch him and try to make out every word he writes.

We both jump when the bell rings, and he throws his pencil down before snapping the notebook shut. Never once does he let go of my hand, even as he gets ready to go.

"Don't forget to complete the study guide," our teacher says while we get up to leave, and Ashton groans. "Tomorrow, we'll go over it and review for the Friday's test."

We walk into the hallway in silence, and I have to tug on his arm to stop him from going in the direction of his next class.

"We should do something together for my birthday," I say, and it takes him a second to bring himself into the moment and register what I just said.

"We are," he says, "The party this weekend."

Right -- my last minute birthday party that we decided to plan on Sunday. Just like earlier that day, he was in no mood to talk, so we hardly came up with anything but who I'd be inviting and the fact that my mom could make a cake.

Someone knocks my shoulder with their backpack, sending me closer to Ashton. He places his free hand right where it bumped me and guides me toward the lockers and away from the crowd.

"I mean just us," I tell him, "On my actual birthday on Monday. We could go out to eat or something, and you won't have to think about anything for at least an hour."

"I'm always thinking about you, Mad," he says, staring off behind me. "It wouldn't be any different. But yeah, wherever you want to go."

He starts to walk away, trying to let go of my hand, but I tug on his arm again.

"What class do you have next?"

He blinks slowly, unsure of where I'm going with this, "English."

"Skip it," I say, "Come eat lunch with me and Mikey."

His eyebrows come together and he adjusts his backpack, which is nearly falling off his shoulder. I stare up at him hopefully; I have to somehow get his mind off of himself and everything he's worried about, something I'm still struggling to understand.

"Skip it?" he asks, "I never thought I'd hear you suggest that."

"It's okay, Ash," I say. I stand on my tip toes and cup his face in my hand, brushing a few curls out of his eyes, and he frowns. "It's just one--"