Storm 》Clifford A.U

023;

          ANYTIME THAT SOMEONE told me not to do something, it only made me want to do it so, so much more. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest way to go about life but, I didn't really care. I had felt this way for as long as I could remember, back to when Mama told me not to take the back roads home even though they were faster because they were too dangerous. I purposely went out of my way to go through them and ended up scraping both of my knees when I fell off of my bike as an end result. 

      Once, when I told her about a party that I had been invited to, she didn't let me speak long enough to get to the part where I would have said that I had no interest in going. The boy hosting the party was about as entertaining as a dust bunny, and he was way too handsy for my liking. She had simply heard the word party and absolutely freaked, making it clear that I was not to leave the house and attend that party under any circumstances. So I snuck out of the window with Darya in tow and we spent the night playing beer pong with the dust bunny and a group of his friends who were, as expected, just as mentally stimulating as he was.

     It may have been childish, and it may have even been detrimental to my wellbeing since Mama had been telling me these things to protect me. Whatever the case though, I still acted on impulse and had no desire to stop, especially not when Michael was the one trying to tell me what I should and shouldn't do.

     Unbeknownst to Michael, I had arranged another meeting with Ashton. The limited time that I had at Wesleyan was running out and I needed to use what remained of it to get solid information about Darya. Michael didn't want us meeting alone, and I was sure that it was more for Ashton's benefit than that of my own.

      I would be too hard on him. I would ask too many questions. I would blame him for everything that was happening. At least that's what Michael and Ivy had told me time and time again. I didn't want to make the situation worse for anyone, especially Ashton who, if he actually was innocent, had been suffering just as much as I had been. That was the thing though. I didn't know Ashton. So I couldn't tell yet if he was innocent or guilty. Neither one of them can blame me for having my suspicions and they sure as hell don't have the right to tell me what I should and shouldn't say. I understand perfectly that Ashton is a boy who loves my sister, and that he is a boy that she loves just as much in return. He's important to her, so he should be important to me. I also understand that he, Darya, Michael, and Ivy are all friends and would do anything to protect one another. But they have to understand how much is riding on this, on everyone being honest with each other. And right now, it looked like they were all still keeping secrets.

     While Michael had been marching from frat house to frat house dropping off zip lock bags full of party favors, I had been pacing his dorm room nervously for the past hour. I was supposed to meet Ashton soon and while I was eager, I was also terrified. We were meeting in his room this time to secure some of the security our previous meeting had been lacking and I had no idea what to expect, or even how to go about getting the information I so desperately needed. Truthfully, I don't know how much or how little Ashton knows, but he has to know something, anything.

     To try and distract myself, I grab Darya's journal from my bag and open it up to the page where I had last left off. 

     Dear Diary,

     He has fallen into photography. He loves to take candids of me while I (attempt to) cook in his room or lie down, his headphones comfortably resting on my ears. His favorite shot to date is of me laughing, head thrown back after I just finished counting Michael's money. He was too lazy to do it himself, and was coming in around an hour to pick it up. Since he was my friend and it helped me with Statistics, I didn't mind helping him at all.