One of the Guys

Chapter 21: Touchdown

Ashton's POV:
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"And I was thinking maybe we could hang out tonight after the game." A blonde was trailing her finger down in what she thinks is seductive. It's repulsive and I can't help feeling as if it's because of this one girl I can't keep my mind off of.

"No." I push her hand away and continue my search through the halls for her.

Cece has ignored me since Wednesday. She doesn't talk to me or anyone on the team outside of practice and when she does, it's as little as possible. It's Friday and we have our first game and I don't know what's going on. Caroline said to give her time, but I'm afraid she's filling those cracks back up and I'll never get in.

"C'mon, it'll be fun." She purrs, but it sounds like a cat going around in a washer.

"I'm sure I will have fun, just not with you." I push past her and catch up to Cece.

"Hey!" I grab her shoulder and spin her around.

"Hey..." She trails off when she notices it's me. She gently removes my hand and steps away. "What do you need?" It wasn't want, it was need. Like I would only talk to her if I need something. That stung a little. Fuck, that stung a lot.

"I don't need anything." I slowly step closer.

"Okay, I'll be going." She steps backwards in an attempt to get as far away as possible.

"Your class is the other way." A smile plays on my lips, not quite able to settle.

"Right, of course." She goes to step back towards me, but hesitates.

"Cece?" I try to catch her attention.

"Hmm?" She looks exhausted. There are bags under her eyes that I didn't notice before, the light in her eyes are dim, and she's pale. She looks horrible and there's this guilt gnawing away in the pit of my stomach, as if it were all my fault.

"You don't have a class, it's lunch." I can't help the teasing way it comes out. Some things will never change.

"Great." She runs a hand down her face. Defeat evident in her voice.

"Will you please talk to me?" I'm begging, but I'm willing to do almost anything so I don't lose her.

She looks up and I see the conflict in her eyes. She looks away and sighs. "This is talking."

"Just give me lunch. Just give me now." I plead.

She opens her mouth and I can tell she's going to reject my offer, so I interrupt her before she can. "I'm your best friend, don't you owe me that much?" It's a pity card, but I'm not going to give up easily.

Something in her deflates and she looses her fight. She nods and we walk towards the doors. I want to grab her hand, I want to hold her, I want to be as close as we were behind that waterfall, with reality far away. The sad truth is, this is reality, and we have to talk if we're ever going to get anywhere.

I tentatively grab her hand and guide her towards the soccer field. She tenses, but finally relaxes and gently holds it back. My stomach flips and I wipe my other suddenly sweaty hand on my jeans. I don't know if it's her, our talk, or the nervousness of the outcome of the next thirty minutes that causes this and hell, knowing me, it's all of them.

I walk her to the middle of the field and flop down. She sits more gracefully than I did. "What do you want to talk about?" She drums her fingers on the ground, a sign she's nervous.

"Why are you shutting me out?" I don't try to beat around the bush. The only way to do this with her is to be straight forward.

"I'm not-" She attempts to brush it off, but I stop her.