𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫. [𝐥𝐫𝐡]

chapter twenty eight: "not here to cause trouble."

[carmen leigh]

"CARMEN!" ashton's voice explodes through the phone as soon as i press the device against my ear, "you have to come home quick! i've broken all of my bones, carmen! all of them!"

"you- you did what?" i exclaim, already grabbing my jacket from behind the service counter, "how the fuck-"

"i slipped over in the shower!" he wails dramatically, "it's awful, carmen! there's blood everywhere! i think i fractured my butt!"

this definitely isn't the type of call i was expecting to receive halfway through my shift at 'sweet dreams'.

with a short sigh, i flip the sign on the door over, so it displays the word 'closed' to anyone outside. "i'm on my way home, ash. don't move until i get back."

"oh, thank you! but be quick, i could die!"

something tells me he isn't as close to death as he's claiming, but i've been dying to get off my feet since my shift started. i might as well take advantage of the situation and get a day off out of ashton's dramatics.

unfortunately for anyone that was planning on visiting the store today, i'm the only one working. i guess the middle schoolers will just have to miss out today.

"you're not gonna die, idiot." i lock the door behind me, slipping the key into my pocket as i go. "nova should be home, why isn't she helping you?"

"i-um..." there's a soft silence on the other side for a moment, before ashton starts talking again, "she has- uh, headphones in?"

"fair enough. do you want me to stay on the phone until i get home, ash?"

"you don't have to... but please, be quick?"

"i will, i promise." i reassure him, "and don't move. you could hurt yourself even more."

-

i reach the house in record time. realistically, i know he probably just stubbed his toe or something, but it's not worth the risk. the man really is fucking clumsy.

as i step in, i notice ashton sitting on the couch. perfectly fine. completely unharmed.

"are you fucking kidding me-"

ashton raises a hand, cutting off my frustrated exclamation. "before you brutally murder me, i really did slip over in the shower."

"i thought you were dying, you asshole." i glare across the room, before flopping down on the couch opposite him.

"yeah, yeah, whatever." he nonchalantly waved his hand in the air, "i needed to get you home."

why the fuck would he need me at home? and why didn't he just tell me he needed me, instead of making up an elaborate excuse?

"and you had to fake a medical emergency for that...?"

ashton glances over to the door leading into the kitchen, before turning back to me, "well... if you knew why you had to come home, you'd probably start getting all panicky and stuff... it was just easier to do it this way."

you know that sharp fear you feel when you get a text that says 'we need to talk'? yeah, that's what i'm feeling right now.

kinda like you've been called into the principal's office, and you see your mom sitting in the chair across from him.

however i put it, it doesn't change the fact that i'm fucking terrified. ashton never beats around the bush, what the fuck is he hiding from me?