'What's this?'
I jump. Of course he isn't going to just continue past. Why would he just continue past?
'Billie's Tutoring Services,' I can feel his body heat as he leans over my shoulder to read the poster. The breeze I'd felt earlier is gone now...
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I worry that my abrupt departure from Ashton's driving lesson would make our working relationship awkward, but he proves himself to be a professional. If he feels uncomfortable by anything I've done, he doesn't let it show.
The weather cools into a breezy autumn as we fall into an easy routine. Tutoring lessons in our free periods at school, driving lessons every other afternoon. Ashton keeps his endless stream of conversation topics on a tight leash, gently redirecting the conversation elsewhere if it ventures anywhere near a topic that even vaguely traces back to parents. It's a relief.
I think I've got Ashton mostly figured out. Except for the Bounty chocolate bars. He always seems to have the chocolate on hand in an even more endless supply than his conversation topics.
'How many of those do you have in there?' I crane my neck, trying to see into Ashton's backpack, which he'd just grabbed another bar from. He glances down at the backpack sitting on the floor and doubles over, zipping it up.
'Trade secrets,' he shrugs.
I eye the bar in his hand. At the centre is a thick white coconutty textured paste, wrapped in a layer of rippling dark chocolate.
'What's it like?'
He looks down at the bar, then back up at me. 'You hungry?' he points at the chocolate. 'Or– wait a minute, you've never had a Bounty?'
'I don't think I've ever been given the opportunity,' I shrug, smiling.
Ashton grabs my hand resting on the table and pulls it close to him. A jolt of electricity punches through my stomach as he tucks his half-eaten chocolate bar into my hand, curling each of my fingers around it.
'Go ahead,' he releases my hand, his face a mix of precognition and smug arrogance.
I open my hand and stare down at the chocolate before raising it to my mouth and taking a small, tentative bite. Chewing, the sickly sweet taste spreads through my mouth, almost overpowering me. The coconut serves more as a texture than taste. But despite all the thoughts running through my mind, all I can say is:
'It's a chocolate bar.'
Ashton groans. 'But it's so good!'
Shrugging, I slide the bar back across the table to him.
'Whatever. More for me,' he grins, finishing it off.
'I thought you'd be into more mature tastes. Like alcoholic chocolate or something. Or– no, those expensive gourmet blocks they make up with honeycomb and sea salt.'
He crumples the wrapper in his hand before looking back up at me.
'What makes you think that?'
'I just assumed chocolate connoisseurs have a more refined palette than-' I gesture at the wrapper in his hand, 'that.'
