'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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'What? What is it?' I glance down at my dress. Nothing seems out of place.
It's almost miniscule, but Ashton bites his lip before breaking into a smile. 'You look amazing.'
'What- really?' It takes considerable effort not to cross my arms over my chest.
'Aw come on. Don't act like you don't know,' he smirks.
'Don't know what?'
His eyes rake down my body and my face grows warm. Something hot pools in my belly.
'We should probably get going. We don't want to make Stephanie wait any longer.'
I laugh, locking up the house before getting into the car with him. My knees rise higher from the wedges I'm wearing, and I balance my purse in my lap.
'Have you turned eighteen yet?' Ashton asks.
'Yeah, right before I got my licence. But I didn't have a party or anything.'
'Have you gone out drinking yet?'
'Drinking? Yeah nah.'
'Have you had anything before? Like even a sip of your dad's beer when you were a kid?'
'Nope.'
Ashton takes a sharp turn into a carpark before pulling into a spot and parking the car.
'Stephanie's place is still about ten minutes away from here,' I look over at Ashton but he's grinning, like he already knows.
'You got your ID?'
I nod, and follow him out of the car and into the small nearby shop.
'Wait, this is–'
'A grog shop. I'm buying you a drink.'
He leads me through plastic strip curtains hanging from the doorway. Chilled air spills out in gasps between the strips of plastic. The change in temperature is instant, like stepping into a giant freezer. Rows and rows of bottles gleam, stacked shelf to shelf.
'If you've never had a drink before, you'll be fine with a few vodka cruisers,' he shows me to an open fridge and scoops up a four pack of pink glass bottles.
'I can pay for it, I have money from dad,' I hold out a hand, but he pulls away.
'Save it. This is your birthday present from me.'
I open my mouth in protest, but Ashton moves swiftly to the counter and pays. He glances back at me and holds up his licence.
'They need to see your ID.'
'Oh!' I fumble through my purse for the plastic card, showing the shopkeeper. He looks closely, then nods.
Ashton hands the drinks to me as we walk back to the car. I peer closely at the label.
