Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  Mom’s arm is around my shoulders again, her hand rubbing my arm. “What are you talking about?”

  I’m almost afraid to tell her. I don’t want her to yell or worse, tell me she’s disappointed in me.

  “There’s a boy at school,” I start, my voice shaky. I clear my throat, hating how nervous I sound. “He’s awful.”

  “Awful in a bad way or awful in a good way?”

  I frown as I pull out of her hold and sit up straight, meeting her gaze. “Is there such a thing as a good awful?”

  “Yes. Definitely,” Mom says firmly. “He could be annoying you and it makes you angry, yet you also like him a little bit, which makes the entire situation worse. Is that how he’s making you feel?”

  I don’t know how to think of Ash. He’s awful, but I don’t think I could call it a good awful. He’s not very nice to me. It always feels like he’s mocking me, as if he thinks I’m a big joke. But today I stooped just as low as him, and I said such a terrible thing.

  I hate myself for it.

  “I don’t like him,” I tell her. “He’s not nice. And he made me so mad during class…we have chemistry together and Mr. Curtin said we have to be lab partners, honestly I don’t know how I’m going to survive it. He wouldn’t stop making fun of me, so I finally said something…not so nice in return.”

  Mom frowns, that defensive mother look crossing her face. She doesn’t like it when anyone messes with her kids. Of course, what mother does? “Who is it?”

  “Asher Davis,” I say, my lips twisting around his name.

  “Ahhh.” Mom nods, her expression turning pensive. “You do know he’s had some—trouble in his life.”

  “What sort of trouble?” I remember what Dad said, and how he couldn’t reveal anything. “What did he do?”

  Mom sighs. “It’s not what he did. It’s what’s been done to him.”

  I drop my gaze to my lap, staring at my hands as I link my fingers together. “Was he abused?” Maybe by his dead father?

  “It’s not my story to tell.” She pats my knee and I glance up to find she’s already watching me. I see myself in her face. We share the same green eyes, our facial structure is similar, same mouth shape, same nose, though I have darker hair than her, which I got from Dad. I’m short and stacked, just like she is, which kind of sucks, if you ask me. I hate it when the boys stare at my chest, which they used to do a lot in middle school. I mean, they still do it, but it’s not as bad as it used to be.

  Or maybe they got better at hiding it.

  “What exactly did he do that made you so angry?” Mom asks when I still haven’t said anything.

  “He made fun of my name, which hurt my feelings. So I tried to get back at him, and when he told me he was named after his father, I said their name wasn’t Ash, it was more like ass.” I shake my head. “And then he told me his dad was dead and made me feel terrible.”

  Mom actually…laughs? Not a full-blown laugh, more like a discreet chuckle. She even covers her mouth with her fingers. “Oh Autumn.”

  “I’m a horrible person,” I tell her morosely, hating how my voices cracks. I feel ready to crack. Like my heart is going to split open and spill out all my misery everywhere, soaking me with it.

  She slips her arm around my shoulders again and gives me a shake. “No, you’re not. He was making fun of you, and you lashed out, which is normal. How were you supposed to know his father’s dead? And honestly? That was kind of a good one, trading ash for ass.”

  A shocked laugh escapes me and I cover my mouth just like she did, trying to stop myself. “It was mean.”

  “But a funny play on words, not that I’m condoning you making fun of someone.” She gives my shoulders another shake. “He’s defensive, and I’m guessing when it comes to him, you are too. Just know, he’s had a tough life, and he puts on a tough persona, but he’s…vulnerable. Losing a parent, especially when you’re so young, is hard. I know what that’s like.”

  “Right, because of your mom.” I can’t imagine my mother having anything in common with Ash Davis, but I also know Mom had a rough childhood, not that she’s told me much about it.

  “My mom was a drunk who couldn’t keep a job. She did drugs too. Slept around, had lots of boyfriends she’d bring home and try to get us accept as our new dad or whatever. It was—bad. She didn’t care about me, and she didn’t care about your Uncle Owen either.” Mom stares off into space, lost in her memories. She told me she had to take care of her little brother before, but never offered up many details until now. “I had to grow up fast and take care of Owen and our apartment. I had to get a job to help pay the bills, and I barely graduated high school. I’m still not quite sure how I did it.”

  “What do you mean, you barely graduated?” I lean away, her arm slipping off my shoulders. I’ve never heard this story before, and I have to admit…

  It’s fascinating.

  “I was never at school, especially the last couple of years. I missed a lot of class because I was working all the time. I got my diploma, but barely. I didn’t even go to the ceremony; they mailed it to me. My grades were absolutely terrible.” She turns to look at me, really look at me. “School is so important, Autumn. You need to get good grades so you can get into a good college.”

  I become defensive at her quick subject change, as I usually do when my parents start talking to me about college. That’s so far away, I don’t know why I have to worry about it now. “My grades are fine.”

  “I know.” Mom smiles gently. “Your father and I, we push you all because no one pushed us. At least, not one of our parents pushed us in the right direction. We just want the best for you and your brothers, and your sister.”

  Ugh. That reminds me… “Ava won’t stop going through my makeup.”

  “I’ll tell her to stop,” Mom promises, amusement tinging her voice, but it never seems to matter. Ava goes through my stuff all the time.

  “What should I do about Ash?” I ask, my voice small.

  Mom sighs. “Tell him you’re sorry.”

  I make a face. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Her brows rise, and she’s got that total Mom face going on. “It’s pretty simple, Autumn. Just approach him and say you’re sorry for calling him an ass.”

  I think about what she said. I think about it for the rest of the night. While I’m doing homework, while I’m FaceTiming Kaya and she’s encouraging me to go after Ben Murray, that she thinks we’d make a cute couple. I laugh and agree, but deep down, I’m still thinking about Ash and what I said to him, and that flash of pain in his eyes when I said it. It was there and gone, not even for a second.

  But I saw it. I hurt him. And that made me hurt too.

  I don’t understand why.

  Five

  I’ve never told Asher Davis I was sorry. I couldn’t work up the nerve. It’s been a month since our conversation on the first day of school, and we never spoke about it again. We don’t really talk ever at all, beyond about school stuff.

  It’s mid-September, and Ash and I have come to an unspoken truce. After I insulted his dead father, he stopped taunting me. Stopped smirking at me. I guess I should be glad he’s leaving me alone, but I still feel bad about what I said. Was his dad nice, or was he mean? Is that why Ash is so mean to me? Mom said it doesn’t matter how they treated you, we always love our parents.

  Lucky for me, I have great parents. I love mine so much, and I know they love me. I have no idea what it’s like for Asher. Dad mentioned that he didn’t have an easy time of it, but I don’t know what that means or what he’s referring to. My father doesn’t talk to me about it, and of course Ash isn’t talking to me, so I don’t know what’s really going on.

  Ash keeps his distance, and so do I, and when we work together during lab hours, we’re polite to each other. To the point that it’s downright painful to witness, I’m sure.

  But I’m not going to break. And neither is he. I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me. In chemist
ry, we don’t have a choice, though. We have to work together.

  It sucks.

  I walk into chemistry class today, my stomach jittery, my mind racing. I didn’t eat much at lunch, because I couldn’t. I know it’s dumb to worry about this kind of stuff, but I’m excited. Nervous. I’m not going to be able to focus in class, so thank God it’s not a lab day.

  No way do I want Ash to notice.

  The reason I’m a wreck? Homecoming court announcements are happening. Three boys and three girls from each class—with the exception of the seniors, who nominates six boys and six girls—are chosen to be part of the homecoming finalists. During homecoming week, there are themed dress-up days, games at lunch, and the coronation is Wednesday night for the lowerclassmen. The king and queen are crowned at halftime during the football game Friday night, and everyone else who won will be presented as well.

  It’s kind of a big deal.

  A bunch of my friends have already told me they nominated me, and I can’t help but anticipate our vice principal Mrs. Adney announcing my name near the end of class. I know I shouldn’t assume. I know I should tell myself to calm the hell down, no way is it going to happen, so I don’t get my hopes up only to have them come crashing down. But something is telling me…

  It’s going to happen.

  I’m so amped up I’m squirming in my chair, and when Ash walks into the room, he sends me a weird look as he settles into his chair beside mine. “You got ants in your pants or what?”

  My mouth pops open, I’m so shocked he said something conversational to me beyond “Hey, pass me the test tube.” My throat dries up and I’m somehow rendered speechless, which never happens.

  He shakes his head once, tilting it to the side. “Hello? Can you not speak?”

  “I’m—uh.” I shrug and look away from him. “I’m anxious.” I close my eyes briefly, silently cursing myself.

  Why did I say that?

  “About what?” The curiosity in his tone is unmistakable.

  I shrug, still keeping my head averted. “Nothing.” No way can I tell him. He’ll just make fun of me.

  “Uh huh.” Clearly he doesn’t believe me. And since when does he manage to come to class early? He usually runs in late, causing Curtin to scold him, not like Ash cares. He pretty much does what he wants, when he wants. Well, within reason.

  Mostly he avoids spending time with me as much as possible.

  “Benny boy finally gonna work up the nerve to ask you out?” Ash asks nonchalantly.

  My jaw drops open again and I turn to look at him. How does he know I like Ben Murray? And wait a minute—does he know something I don’t? Is he friends with Ben? Ha, doubtful. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s pretty obvious. You two keep eye fucking each other at lunch.” Ash shrugs and looks away. “He needs to make a move.”

  “You’re so gross.” The words leave me before I can check myself, and I wince, ready for him to say something worse. But I mean, really. Eye-fucking? Ben and I don’t do that.

  Do we?

  “Why? Because I speak the truth?” He shifts closer to the table, propping his forearms on the edge. “He needs to put a lockdown on that before someone else sneaks in and steals you from him.”

  I make a face. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  Ash raises his brows, glancing over at me once more. “Wanna make a bet?”

  I stare at him, confused by the tone of his voice. He made that question sound downright…suggestive. As if he knows someone who’s interested in me.

  As if that someone could be…

  Him.

  No. No, no, no.

  We hate each other.

  His eyes suddenly light up, and he snaps his fingers. “I know why you’re excited.”

  I frown. He changes subjects so fast, I’m going to get whiplash. “Why?”

  “You think you’re gonna get nominated for homecoming.”

  Oh. I did not want him to figure that out. “No, I don’t.” I protest too quickly, and he knows it.

  “Yes, you do.” He shifts closer to me, and I turn and glare at him. “You think you’re going to be a pretty little princess on the stage at the homecoming game?”

  I snort and immediately regret it. That sounded disgusting. “No, not at all.”

  “Uh huh. Well, just so you know…” His voice drifts and he shakes his head, his lips forming a tight line. “Never mind.”

  Now I’m curious. “Just so I know what?”

  He waves a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I hate when people do this sort of thing. It is truly the absolute worst. “No, tell me. What is it?”

  His expression turns serious. Like, deadly serious. “You’re going to think I’m stupid. Or worse, you won’t believe me.”

  My mind is scrambling. What in the world is he talking about? “Tell me.”

  Those dark eyes stare into mine, and I can see the eternal struggle. Whatever it is, he’s not sure if he should say it.

  Meaning he’s probably going to insult me.

  He mutters something I can’t make out and shifts closer, his head angled toward mine, and he cups his hand around my ear, rough fingers brushing my skin, causing me to shiver.

  I hope he didn’t notice. He’s the type of boy who’d use my body’s uncontrolled reaction against me. He’d turn it into something dirty, and I don’t have those sorts of thoughts about him. No way.

  Uh uh.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers into my ear, pausing for a moment. His breath is hot, smells like cinnamon, and I swear he just licked his lips. Wait a minute, did he actually touch my ear with his tongue? “But I voted for you.”

  He pulls away right at the exact moment the bell rings and Curtin immediately launches into a lecture. I don’t hear anything the teacher says. I don’t notice if Asher is laughing at me or not. I feel like I’m in shock, frozen in place as the same questions keep running through my mind.

  Asher Davis voted for me for homecoming princess? And did he really just lick my ear? What a perv!

  What’s worse?

  I kind of liked it.

  When the announcement comes seven minutes before class is over and Mrs. Adney reads my name just as I secretly predicted, I can’t help it.

  I’m beaming with pride.

  My smile fades in an instant when I hear Ash’s name announced too. My gaze flicks to where he’s sitting and he appears shocked. My friend Kaya was nominated as well, along with her boyfriend. Another couple was nominated too. Tradition is everyone pairs up and runs together during homecoming week, participating in the games and dressing up together. Which means…

  “Looks like it’s you and me,” Ash says when the announcements are over. He smiles, his dark eyes glittering. “Hope Ben doesn’t mind.”

  I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.

  Six

  “Here.” I pull a reusable shopping bag from my backpack and drop it on the table, pushing it toward Ash. “This is for you.”

  The wary expression on his face is new, one I’ve never seen before. It’s like he doesn’t trust me. “What is it?” He stares at the bag like there’s a snake inside that’s going to bite him.

  “Clothes and costumes.” It’s Friday, and we’ve never talked about what we’re going to do or wear for homecoming week. We were nominated two weeks ago, so this is kind of ridiculous.

  But after asking around some, I found out this is fairly normal, especially for those who are running together but aren’t together together. The girls usually arrange everything and the boys are clueless. They always just do what they’re told and suffer through the dress-up days and games they have to play.

  So unfair.

  He frowns. “Clothes and costumes for what?”

  I roll my eyes. “Homecoming. You know, it’s next week?”

  “I know that.” He sounds defensive as he reaches for the bag and peeks inside. His lip curls as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a
pair of navy-and-white checked fleece pajama pants. “What’s up with these?”

  “Monday is pajama day.” I do my best to keep my tone even. Pleasant. “So we’ll wear matching PJs and T-shirts.”

  “Aren’t you cute? With the PJs?” He’s mimicking me, his voice rising to a higher pitch. “I think you just want to think about the two of us in bed together, Callahan.”

  “Stop it.” I yank the pants out of his hands and stuff them back into the bag. “Your stupid remarks are just that: stupid. If you want to win, we have to dress up together and match. Plus we have to play the games together and actually try to win. Participation counts.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to play the games.”

  “Then we won’t win.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to do that either.”

  I roll my eyes, but deep down inside, I’m worried. I’m dying to win, not that I can ever admit it to him. But I won’t win if I have to carry Ash through the entire week while he does nothing. “Come on. Winning won’t be that bad.”

  “If I have to play a bunch of stupid games to win, then it’s going to suck.” He slumps in his chair and crosses his arms, reminding me of a big ol’ baby.

  Maybe I need to approach this in a way that will matter to him. “Won’t winning homecoming prince, like, earn you status with girls or whatever? If you win, they’ll all know who you are.”

  “The only girl I want to notice me hates me.” He sends me a knowing look and I can’t help but think—yet again—that he’s talking about me. If I said that, he’d say the world doesn’t revolve around me and I’d end up feeling stupid. So I keep my mouth shut. “She’s not interested. She never will be.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.” My voice goes soft and I lean toward him a little bit, like an idiot. “She might be interested.”

  Those brown eyes meet mine, and I lose myself for a second in their depths. He has the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re beautiful.

  They’re also unnerving.