The Blind Boy

34.

Winter break passes in a blink of an eye, then January follows, and by the time Ash thinks she can breathe again, it's February.

The sweet, blissful bubble of Rory and Ash's time together has long since popped since his parents, cousin, and sister returned from their holiday vacation, with reality seeping in at every corner (like a ship about to sink).

They still see each other, of course. It's just... less, but he still seems content to keep seeing her.

Seeing her.

Seeing him.

There is no mention of dating or love.

Nothing has changed between them, save for Rory becoming more confident in his kisses, in the way he touches her. 

It's like he's memorized her face, where her eyelashes are, (and how many she has) her hair, the curve of her neck, and he seems determined to exploit the inches of flesh that make her shudder underneath his touch.

Other things have changed, though.

For one, she's gotten a job. A soul-crushing retail job at a thrift store, but a job nonetheless. It isn't so bad, working there. Her co-workers are all around her age, always in band shirts, in ripped jeans, and she's started to fold clothes neatly at record speed.

It smells faintly like paint and cigarettes, but the music is old, the clothes are old, and she feels like she fits in.

Frankly, it doesn't matter if she hated her job. She's about to turn eighteen in two months, and even though she's moving in with Robb, she needs the money to help out with rent.

Everything is coming together, like the broken puzzle piece set at the said thrift store, albeit slowly. It's not perfect, but it's... manageable.

And that is exactly what Asher Miller needs.

She doesn't need caramel curls distracting her from her future or a dimple that she can't stop trying to get to appear. That is not manageable. That is not skirting by.

That is more than she deserves, which is something she never gets.

It feels like a trick being with him, the kind that a magician pulls. Magical on the surface, but harsh truth underneath. 

They now bask in this tentative half-light neither of them have been eager to define.

She wants to talk to him about it, about their future, but she's frightened he'll pull away again, and she doesn't want that. Not at all. 

It makes her feel small and panicked, the thought of him pushing her away again, the thought of him going to be with somebody else (someone else with silky brown locks who hasn't seemed to leave him alone lately).

It's all too reminiscent of –

An airport bathroom. 

Of childish knees curling themselves inward on a cold, hard-tiled floor.

She chases the feeling down with a Monster energy drink, feels her heart thrum, then clocks out of her job.

She likes the old-school vibe of this store. With her other jobs, she had to clock out on her phone, but here? It's the real deal, and the paper card makes a an aggressive 'thunk' noise as she pulls it out (like it might take off her hand). 

Along with that, she gets discounts on all the clothes here, and with it already being second-hand, it's practically free.

The job is also made easier with a gray skateboard – her new pride and joy – that can go up to twenty-five miles an hour. Thanks to Rory, she no longer needs to rely on rides from Daisy, from Louis, or from Robb.