Though she tried to stop herself, her mind continued to replay the scenes that she and Asher had shared that day, trying to figure out why he was so mean to her. Her initial thought was that he really didn't like her and he was getting fed up with her for thinking that she did. But then why was he wearing her necklace? That was the thought that caused Sadie to second guess herself, the reason that single part of her refused to let go of this notion that he, in some way, liked her the same way she liked him. Hell, the ring was fake and it was too gaudy for any guy she knew. Why was he wearing it?
That was the question she couldn't answer, and as a result, she couldn't shed any light on how he felt about her. Did it even matter how he felt about her? Maybe it was the fact that he knew exactly how he felt about her and instead of just admitting it, instead of just telling Sadie that he liked her and that he wanted to be with her, he wouldn't let himself. That was what hurt the most. It wasn't the fact that they weren't together, but it would seem that Sadie wasn't even worth the risk.
Sure, Asher was totally going out with girls who were easy and who were like him and probably didn't care about him in the same way that he didn't care about them. It was an understanding relationship, and he wouldn't have that with Sadie. She had too much respect for herself.
Well fine. If Sadie was simply not worth it, if Sadie didn't inspire Asher in any way to make a move on her and follow up and what they shared that Saturday, then he really didn't deserve her. Sure, it was cliché, but it was also true. And one thing Sadie definitely didn't want was to wait around for him to finally get how he felt, wait around for him to finally gather the courage to say something. She didn't want to be that girl.
It had to stop. She needed to get a grip on herself and realize that things probably weren't going to change anytime soon. This whole situation, the pain she was currently feeling, it all had to end. And it had to end tonight.
---
It took a long moment before Asher finally decided to return to his house. He knew he would hear his father say something regarding Sadie, and he tried to prepare himself for it with hopes that he wouldn't react too strongly to it. Luckily, his father seemed to be in a drunken slumber, and as a result, Asher managed to make it to his room before anything could happen. He closed his door – he would have locked it too if he had a lock – and laid on his bed, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
Whenever he was deep in thought about something, he would stare up at the ceiling, hoping to find the answers embedded in the white popcorn material that occupied it. It was almost like making shapes with his ceiling, and he could literally lie there for long portions of time, skillfully blocking out his father's yelling and his mother's crying. It was moments like those that he was glad he didn't have a younger sibling. At least someone else didn't have to endure this nonsense. He refused to let himself think about what would happen if he had an older brother, however. Common sense told him that an older brother would protect him, and seeing as how he didn't have one, it didn't matter what he wished for; it wasn't going to happen.
He would have to survive on his own.
Except he began to realize that he wasn't surviving merely by himself. Thoughts of Sadie occupied his mind continuously. When his father was beating him, his mother yelling at him, it was her face, her voice, that occupied his thoughts. She was his savior in an odd sort of way because he distracted himself with her image, and the pain didn't affect him as much.
But there was no way he would ever be with her. He couldn't bring her into this kind of life. Hell, he never wanted her to meet his parents because he honestly had no idea what they would say. He didn't want to know what they would say, if he was being honest.
Once Sadie knew who he really was, she would dump him. Why would she want to stay with him when his family was screwed up? He had come to this conclusion time and time again, but for whatever reason, he refused to take off the necklace she had made for him using her ring and his chain. It was something physical that he could touch whenever he needed to calm himself down, or at least to remember that somebody actually cared enough to give him something.
Hell, she had come to his house to see if he was okay! Nobody had ever done that, not even his friends who knew what was going on at home.
Asher allowed himself a small smile of affection for Sadie. If anything, she was stubborn. But even more than that, it would seem that she wouldn't allow herself to give up on him. This particular feeling was what caused Asher to really like her, to appreciate who she was, and to want nothing more than to be with her. He was hardly sentimental, but when he was, she brought it out in him. Everyone he knew gave up on him – teachers, parents, his friends didn't even care, but no matter what shitty thing he did to her, she was still there, checking on him to make sure that he was okay.
Asher knew he didn't deserve her, but he thanked God for putting her in his life.
"Not like it's going to last," he muttered under his breath. One day, she was just going to stop because sooner or later, everyone got tired of being pushed away.
Maybe he would stop doing the pushing, maybe he would finally allow himself to –
"Kid!" a voice bellowed from downstairs. "Get your ass down here. I want to talk to you."
Asher rolled his eyes and sat up. He didn't want to be caught in a vulnerable position by lying down on the bed. As Asher expected, when he didn't respond, his father came rushing up the stairs, each stomp sounding closer and closer than the last one. When Asher's door was thrown open, Asher stood, prepared for whatever his father was going to do to him.
"I thought I told you to get downstairs," Asher's father said. Immediately, Asher could tell he was still drunk, which only meant that his father would have no qualms beating up on his son if he wanted to. Not like being sober stopped him anyway, but Asher couldn't remember a time when his father was actually one hundred percent sober.
Asher still said nothing, popping his jaw. He could feel his body tense up, preparing for a fight.
"You know," his father murmured, taking a step towards his son, "I really didn't think you could get a girl like the girl who stopped by today. I thought you could only get girls who were nothing but good for nothing sluts. That's all you're good for. Dirty sluts. But that girl, that ain't no slut. But boy, would I like to turn her into one, hmm?" He smiled mischievously at this, but because of how he said it and his current state of mind, it came out almost perverted.
Before Asher could think rationally, he reached out and socked his father in the face as hard as he could. To be honest, Asher had no idea he was going to do that, and apparently, his father felt the same way because he was gripping his jaw and fell back a couple of steps, completely surprised at what had just taken place. When he finally got a grip on what had happened, his eyes flashed dangerously into Asher's.
"You're going to regret that you done that, boy," he said. "Now get over here so Daddy can teach you a lesson."
Chapter 25
It was hard for Sadie to sleep that night. There was too much going on in her head and because of that, she felt a headache coming on. It was 12:34am when Sadie pulled herself out of bed and headed into the dark kitchen. She poured herself a glass of milk before putting it in the microwave and warming it up for thirty seconds, trying not to think about anything. Her mother was spending the night with Sadie's grandmother again, something Ellen normally did when her mother needed her, and because Harry was such a deep sleeper, Sadie had no worry about waking him up in the middle of the night.
When the microwave pinged, she grabbed the glass cup and drank the lukewarm liquid, hoping that the folklore was true and that it would help her with sleep. When she finished her milk, she placed the cup in the sink and headed back to her room, slipping between the covers and closing her eyes. Maybe she should add to her sleepiness by counting sheep or something.
One hundred... ninety-nine... Why was Asher such an ass? I mean, all I wanted to do was to make sure that he was all right... ninety-
eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six... God, this was just so typical. Okay, seriously, though, Sadie, time to get over the guy. If he can't even appreciate you then - ninety-five.
Cling.
Sadie's eyes opened and her whole body froze. What, exactly, was that and where had it come from? For a long moment, nothing happened, and Sadie thought that it had all been in her head.
Cling.
There it was again, and this time, it sounded as though someone was tapping on her window. Who the hell would be tapping at her window at midnight? Burglars wouldn't do that, right? They would just break in. She glanced in the corner of her room until her eyes caught sight of a metal baseball bat just in case this particular burglar was playing some kind of game with her. Sadie sat up and turned on her light before slowly, cautiously, walking over to her window.
Cling.
There it was again. Sadie could feel her heart race as she reached out and swept the blinds away so she could see outside. Standing just outside her window was none other than Asher Boyd, and from what she could see, he was injured. Badly injured. Without thinking twice, she removed the distorted broomstick that prevented people from opening and shutting her window, and tossed it on the bed without a second thought. She then opened the glass window and ushered Asher inside, thanking God that her mother wasn't here. Though Sadie loved her mother and Ellen could be incredibly understanding, Sadie highly doubted Ellen would be able to keep her mind open to what was happening at present.
Once Asher was inside, Sadie gently wrapped her arm around his waist and led him over to her bed, easing him onto it in a sitting position. Afterward, she closed the window and turned back to the boy, her full attention focused on him.
Now that Asher was inside, Sadie could see what the injuries were much more clearly than when he was outside. He had a bruise on his forehead and a gash somewhere on the top of his head because his hair was slightly matted with blood. She was sure there were other injuries as well, underneath his clothes because he seemed to be wincing whenever he breathed in deeply. There were millions of questions poised on the tip of Sadie's tongue, just waiting to be asked, but she swallowed them. It wasn't important at that moment to figure out why this happened, but to figure out where on Asher's body it did happen so Sadie could clean the wounds and get him more comfortable.
"Stay here," she told him. Her voice was quiet but her eyes were firm.
Asher nodded but didn't say anything. She walked over to the kitchen where she filled a pot with lukewarm water and a couple of washcloths. She grabbed Neosporin from the cabinet, as well as a pack of band-aids, and after doing a mental checklist of everything she had in her arms, she decided that if she needed anything else, she could get up and grab it.
When Sadie returned to her room, a small part of her was surprised to find Asher still sitting there, his breathing heavy. It was probably because she had thought that he was a dream, that he wasn't really sitting there in her room. Why would he be here? She shook her head as she knelt in front of him, placing the items she had collected on the floor in front of her, and it was then that she was thankful that she had cleaned her room this past weekend.
Okay... Sadie had no medical experience, but she had watched tons of movies and read tons of stories about how women bandaged up someone – always the love interest of the story – and then something happened, like the characters kissed or - Okay, so that probably wasn't going to happen, but she thought she could probably clean his wounds without problem. The injuries didn't look too serious.
"Um, I'm going to dress your wounds," Sadie told him softly, making sure her door was shut in case her brother woke up for whatever reason before looking at him. Asher nodded again, and Sadie glanced down and placed one of the washcloths in the water, getting it slightly wet before focusing her attention on his face. "It might hurt," she warned him. "If it does, grab me or something. Try not to cry out."
"What?" he asked, throwing her a small smirk. "You got some kind of boyfriend here or something?"
Though she tried not to, Sadie smiled. "No," she said as she began to dab the washcloth on his cheek where a small cut was. "I actually have a younger brother who may or may not tell of your presence here when my mom gets home later tonight, and I really don't want to take the chance, if you don't mind."
---
Asher watched with apt precision as Sadie cleaned his facial wounds comparable to how she probably studied for a really important test. He was lucky, he realized at that moment, to have someone like her in his life who cared about him the way she did. He didn't have anyone else like her in his family, in his group of friends. She was a rare oddity that he never thought he would ever encounter. But as he watched her take care of him, something he never let anyone do before, he could tell that she actually really did care about him, and the way he had been treating her was despicable.
"I'm sorry," he told her suddenly, unsure of what else to say. The silence wasn't awkward, but it was still important to him that Sadie hear it.
Sadie's eyes flashed up so they locked Asher's, and for a moment she didn't speak. "I don't understand," she said quietly, grabbing the dry washcloth in order to dry his face. "What, exactly, are you sorry for?" With that, she dropped that washcloth and picked up the damp one, pushing to her feet so she could look at the wound on his head. "Don't look at my chest while I'm in this position," she added, and his smirk only deepened.
"I mean," he said, keeping the chuckles from his voice, "for everything that I've done. For pushing you away."
---
Sadie was silent again, and Asher felt as though the two of them could hear his heart beat pound incessantly against his chest. He could, at least. "Let's not talk about this now," she finally suggested as she began to wipe the blood from his hair. As far as she could see, it wasn't too serious, but she knew she had to ask Asher anyways. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital, Asher? Just to make sure that you're okay? I mean really okay?"
"I've been through worse," he said as he shook his head so more chestnut strands fell into his face. He paused, and then looked up at her for the first time without the pretense of a shield masking his vulnerability. Sadie was taken by such surprise that she couldn't help but stare for just a bit. "I didn't know who else to come to."
Sadie looked at him and wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and ask him what was wrong, and the two could fall asleep together as he told her everything he never told anyone else. But Sadie was sure that that was the least of what guys wanted when they were going through some kind of problem. They needed their space, so that's what she would give Asher.
"We'll talk tomorrow," she told him, kneeling down to grab the supplies in order to put them back. "If you do you want to talk about it, I mean." With that, she managed to balance everything with one arm as she headed out the door.
---
Asher watched her go, and though he felt as though he had went through hell that evening, with Sadie by his side, it didn't appear that bad anymore.
Chapter 26
Sadie didn't get very much sleep last night. Instead of getting on the bed to sleep next to Asher, she decided to fall asleep in the chair that was across her room and had originally belonged to her grandfather before he passed away. Sadie inherited it only because she was incredibly close to him and she had fond memories sitting on his lap while he was sitting in the chair. Now it was dated and falling apart slightly, but it was still just as comfortable as it was back then and there were moments when she could swear – swear – that he was there with her, holding her like he used to when she was younger and he was alive.
Her thoughts kept going back to the boy on the bed across from her, wondering what had happened. Did he get into a fight with his friends? Was this Tony's doing? Or was it his father? Was it her fault that this happened? Maybe she should have thought twice about going to check in on him the previous day. Maybe his father punished him for the unexpected visitor. God, she hoped not. She hoped this wa
sn't her fault.
And it seemed that he was actually willing to talk to her about it too. At least, that's how Asher felt last night. He seemed eager to get it off of his chest, but Sadie's main concern was that Asher was okay and well-rested before they talked. Hopefully, he would still want to talk to her about it in the morning. Hopefully, he would still be the same person he was last night and not suddenly revert back into the guy pushing her away constantly. But Sadie had to take that chance. And she just prayed that it would work well in her favor.
She wasn't going to go to school the next day. It was a decision that she had to make because she highly doubted Asher wanted to go to school looking like he did – no one would believe him if he explained his father did something like that to him. Sadie could see it now; everyone saw him as a criminal. High school sucked in that way; when it came to grouping people into different cliques, everything was black and white.
However, Sadie got up and grabbed some clothes when six thirty rolled around, and quickly changed in the bathroom across the hall from her room. She woke up her brother, after making sure the door to her room was closed, and after three tries, Harry finally got up, got dressed, and the two headed off. Though Sadie wasn't actually going to go to school, she still had a responsibility to drop Harry off, and this way, she was guaranteed alone time with Asher for a long portion of time. Not to do anything romantic with, of course, but Sadie did want to spend time with him before he had to leave and everything would go back to the way it was once more.
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