The Blind Boy

14.

Ash is quiet on the way to the party, something Louis immediately picks up on. He nudges her in the car, blue eyes full of unabashed concern. "You okay?" he mouths, mindful as ever. 

She forces a wobbly smile, one that he can probably see right through, knocking her shoulder into his playfully. "Never better," she murmurs. In truth, it's hard to wrestle with the tempest of emotions with this latest revelation. Rory had seemed - it had seemed like - she can still feel their hands brushing as he handed her the icepack - he was a good person. But now, she isn't so certain. 

And she garners to reason that it doesn't matter. It's not like they're anything more than friends, and they're barely that. Their dynamic is hardly defined, barely learned, precarious, and full of unknowns. It's not like they go to Halloween parties together or call each other on the weekends. Simply put, this shouldn't be bothering her as much as it is, shouldn't be making her stomach feel like led is dragging it down. She hardly knows him, doesn't know why she's so attached; this is a feeling she should have if she discovered Robb was a heartless bully, not Rory.

It's attraction, not love. Infatuation is stretching it, but maybe even that. Rory is one of the first boys to pay attention to her; Rory is one of the first boys to catch her eye; Rory is one of the first people to pry further, to try and understand her, to understand her without even knowing. 

It's attraction, not love. She hardly knows him. So there. 

Her heart rings a truth that she doesn't want to hear. 

Will I see him tonight? She doubts it, had been disappointed by that likelihood earlier, but now is grateful. Ash can forget about it tonight, have fun with her friends - push anything about Louis's blue eyes going empty and dull because of Rory to the corner of her mind, and bury it deep. She's always been good at that. 

Tomorrow, then. She'll think about it tomorrow. 

As they exit the car, the night air greets Ash, and she takes in the large house in awe. Her awe grows as she sees all the people rifling in, the teenagers and young adults milling around, the music blaring even from outside on the porch, rattling the concrete beneath their scuffed sneakers. 

Daisy's father rolls down the window before they can near the house, the car prepped to drive away. "No drinking," he warns the group. "Louis, keep an eye on all of them." 

Louis grins lopsidedly, saluting. "Yes, sir!"  

Daisy rolls her eyes, softly exasperated, tugging on Kyle's arm and dragging him forwards. "Since when is Louis the mom friend?" 

"Since always," Louis replies, grin deepening. "You heard the man, no drinking." 

"Oh, I can never get away with anything with him around!" Daisy huffs. "So annoying." 

Ash feels a spark of envy. It fades as quickly as it had come, dying, but it's there for a brief moment. Enough to recognize it. She wishes she had a parent to worry and fuss over her as Daisy's father does, but she understands that to Daisy, this is all she's ever known, and what's permanent and stable is precisely what people take for granted. Ash recognizes that, doesn't hold it against her - but the longing in her doesn't fade when the jealousy does.  

"Ash, you coming?"

She nods in Louis's direction, heading forward. Before they can reach the house, Kyle slips into pace beside her. "Sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have told you - " 

"No, you shouldn't have," she quickly says, dropping her voice so Louis doesn't overhear. He's barely ahead. "But not on my account, on Louis's. You should have asked for his permission."