A Language All Our Own

Crushed Pride and Opening Eyes

Ashlyn wakes up around 12 with the same throbbing in her head, and finds a post it note left on the door of the wardrobe.

"Hey Ash, Syd and I left around 9 to get some cardio in and see the city. Figured you could use the sleep. Probably be back around 3. Hope you're okay, xx"

Ash gingerly removes the post it note, feeling her blood boil as the memories of last night flood back. Her stomach suddenly feels light and twisted, and if she didn't know why it was doing that, she would swear it is the flu. She tosses the note in the small trash can sitting below the desk, and then jumps back into bed.

She gets out her phone to see if there are any updates on her brother Chris from her friends back home. The bright screen momentarily blinds her, but as her eyes adjust she can see a single new message. Instead of an update though, she sees a text from Ali. She breathes in deeply, debating if she wants to even open her phone. With a sudden rush of confidence, she swipes right at the message.

"We need to talk."

Ash's breath catches in her ribs and her stomach twists more severely than it had before. She is relieved, disappointed, and extremely pissed off all the same.

She can't really pinpoint why she is so upset with Ali. Her subconscious painfully reminds her that she did in fact kiss her back. Obviously there was some conscious decision there. She winces at the reminder, and tries to come up with a reason to hate the brunette with the massive smile. She thinks long and hard. Maybe it was the way she was so easy with words. But then Ash realizes it's what made them such good friends. Maybe it was because she sliced her head open (which was still covered in staples in stitches). But that was her fault just as much as it was Ali's. Maybe it was the way Ali crushed her pride when she opened the bathroom door the third morning of camp.

And that was it.

Ashlyn can't handle people seeing her broken. As a kid, she hid. She kid from her friends, from her family. She hid from herself, if that was even possible. She was her own best friend, and dragged herself through the mess that addiction had left her family with. In the process, she lost every bit of child-like personality that she had- and there wasn't much to begin with. There was no shoulder for her to lean on; when she leaned, she fell. She was the only person to get herself up in the morning, the only person to get her through the day, and the only person to put her to sleep at night. When she cried- and she did often- her ears were the only ears to hear it, her skin the only skin to feel it. So the thought of someone else dragging her though her days, or sharing her tears- it scared her. And so she hated Ali Krieger.

Of course, she is too proud to ever admit it.

Ashlyn locks her phone and puts it back on the night stand. For a second, she hates herself for the fact that she resents Ali. Ali didn't do anything to her, ands she knows it. Ash tries to breath deeply, and makes an attempt to think about nothing. But all she can think about is the way Ali softly kissed her tears away the night before.

"I'm so fucking dumb," Ashlyn whispers to herself as her body tenses up, distraught with all the emotions running through it. She can feel tears starting to peek through her tired eyes, but immediately bites her lip to push them away.

Ashlyn decides to take a shower to escape the world that had screwed her over one time too many. She turns on the coldest water possible, then gets in with her back turned to it.

The freezing water feels good on her skin, which was burning with frustration and sadness a few moments ago. She wonders about Chris. She wonders about Whitney, who had broken her leg right before camp. She wonders about her parents, how they were holding up.

And strangely enough, she wonders about Ali.

In all of their conversations, there were two things that Ali had never talked about- her sexuality, and how she went deaf. And suddenly Ashlyn feels very curious about the chocolate eyed girl. Maybe there was another side to her.

But then she remembers. Pride. She can't talk to Ali, or it will hurt her pride.

"Fuck it," Ashlyn says to herself, or maybe to fate that had always seemed to find a way to push her down. She turns off the shower, and wraps a towel around herself before grabbing her phone off the night stand.

She unlocks it, and types Ali's name without hesitation.

"Yeah, we do."