Jovie & Bash

Thirteen || Grey

|CHAPTER THIRTEEN|

Henry met Bash on the first snow of the year over beer and Scrabble in my father's claustrophobic apartment.

I stumbled over myself trying to explain the relationship between Henry and Meredith to Bash in the library two weeks prior. He listened patiently as we walked down the aisles together, sliding books into their appropriate spots on the shelf.

"Can I ask you something?" he wondered that day as he fiddled with some misplaced books on the shelf.

I leaned against the book cart with a sigh. "I guess so."

"Why are you so ashamed of your parents?"

I dropped my gaze to the carpet and clenched my jaw. "I dunno. I was the result of a one-night stand between my mom and her secretary. My mother's pregnancy was an embarrassment-because, you know, being a female mayor was a big deal around here at the time-and it made her irresponsible somehow. I made her that way. Now, her and Henry are so weird with each other, and I just feel so torn between their ideals. It's...complicated."

"Everything is so complicated," he whined with a grin. I swatted his shoulder playfully. "I have another question."

"Okay..."

"If you are so good at letting things go. If you are so good at picking up and leaving...Why don't you just ignore all of that superfluous familial background? Why do you live so purposefully in the past?"

If he thought he could stump me, he was wrong. I placed my hands on my hips and answered without wavering, "Because I live in a small town surrounded by people who have known me my entire life. Because I go to volunteer with my mother and Henry and people look between us like they're watching reality TV. Because every teacher I've ever had calls me out in front of class when the rest of the room is silent. Because I've never been able to disappear into the background without trying. And, that's not me being paranoid. If I seem bitter and distant to the people around me, it's because I learned from my mother how to avoid people I don't want to talk to-which is everyone in this town. That's why it's absolutely necessary that I get out of Ashwood Creek and start living without all this extra baggage, okay?"

Bash stared at me for a long time absorbing all of this. Being able to tell him all of that should have been a relief, but it only made me more anxious and aware of my situation. Maybe he would think I'm crazy, or that I was looking too much into everything-that I lived in a constant state of my own insanity. Maybe I would have to go back to conditioning myself to be content with me, myself, and I because being independent and lonely are two different things entirely-and I hadn't gotten too attached to him, right?

"I'm going to be very honest," he told me. "If somebody told me you'd reveal all of that to me a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed them."

"So?" I said.

He took my hand in his and held it against his chest where I could feel his heartbeat beating steadily under his sweater. "You trust me."

"I trust you," I confirm, and I was glad it wasn't my heart he could feel, because it was fluttering.

Now we sat across from Henry playing a competitive game of Scrabble. They got on so well, Bash and my father. It's like they shared this mutual connection over something I couldn't understand. I would make an expression or comment on something of little importance and they would share this look and chuckle. I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Underwood, that you've set me up to take the lead by playing HAIL precisely where you did," Bash announced wickedly as he lifted a single letter from his line-up and placed it over the A.