The Chase ▹ Ashton Irwin

CHAPTER FOURTY FOUR

I managed to get half way through my homework, and decided to take a shower and get ready.

*Ashton's POV*

It was about 6:30, so I decided to leave Michael's house to go and get Brooke. We haven't had an actual "date" yet, and I thought that was pretty pathetic of me.

"Do you have money?" Michael asked as I tossed my xbox controller onto his bed. 

"Nope," I replied. "Unless Michael would like to make a donation to the Ashton Irwin foundation?" I winked, and Michael groaned pulling a 20 out of his pocket.

"Thanks." I nodded. I quickly walked out of Michael's house, and out to my car. I drove to the sound of My Chemical Romance, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. By the time I got to Brooke's house, it was 7:00. I texted her, telling her I was outside her house. I waited for a little, and there was no reply. I sent another text, and I waited some more. Still, no reply. I groaned and shoved the car open, and stepped outside. 

I slowly walked up to her front door, hoping no one else was home. Before I pressed my finger onto the doorbell, I checked myself, slimming down the wrinkles on my t-shirt and fixing my hair with my hands. I took a deep breath, and set one more prayer that Brooke would answer the door. I rang the bell, and waited. I looked down at my shuffling feet and realized I need new converse. These ones are about to fall apart.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. My head shot up to see a man, probably about late 40s, with glasses and casual office-clothes on.

Shit, it was Brooke's father.

We both stood there in silence, looking at eachother. I noticed his eyes inspecting me, looking down to my ripped jeans and 2-year-old shoes.

"Hi." I finally said. I mentally slapped myself, because I sounded really awkward.

"Afternoon," He replied. "Are you Ashton?" His tone was weird, almost as if he was tired and bored. I didn't say anything about it, though.

"Y-yeah," I said. "Is uh..Brooke here?"

"She's getting ready," the man said. He opened the door further, and stepped to the side. "You can come in, if you'd like. Its probably cooler in here than out there."

I nodded and said thank you, stepping into Brooke's house, my hands shoved in my front pockets. I followed Brooke's dad into the kitchen, where he gestured to the kitchen table. I took a seat, and started nervously tapping my foot on the floor. I really hope Brooke is down here soon.

"Do you want anything?" Her father asked, opening the refridgerator.

"Oh, I'm fine," I replied. "Thanks."

"Where are you from?" He asked, tidying up random things around the kitchen. I mentally slapped myself again, because I totally forgot to cover up my accent.

"Uh, Australia..." I said. "...Sydney, to be exact."

"Oh, cool," He replied. He took a seat across from me, his eyes almost piercing into mine. I could tell he was inspecting me, as if to see if I was "ok" for his daughter. The nervousness in my system was starting to worsen, because I've never been in this situation before. His eyes looked suspicious, and I wanted to run away. "How long have you lived in Vegas?"

"Since I was about 13 or so." I replied. He was silent for a couple seconds, then he spoke up again.

"So my daughter tutors you," He said. His tone of voice was different before, almost as if he was making fun of me. "In geometry."

I was about to snap back at him, but I decided to just laugh lightly. "Yes sir," I said. "Math isn't really my thing."

"Are you in any of my daughter's classes?" He asked. It was as if he was expecting me to say "no" because I'm too stupid for Brooke's intelligence.

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm in her Art and English class."

He seemed surprised at this. "English class?" He asked. "Didn't know you were a fan of literature."

"Yeah, I am." I said. I kept my voice steady but this guy was giving me a weird vibe right now.

"Whats your favorite book?" He asked, as if to challenge me.

"The Great Gatsby." I replied almost instantly. 

"Really?" He said. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said back. "I just like the love triangle in that novel. And I like Fitzgerald's use of symbols and metaphorical statements to give the book more of a in depth feeling. Have you read the book?" I tilted my head to the side and innocently raised my eyebrows at him.

"No," He replied shamefully. "It was too diffcult to comprehend. I'm impressed." 

I gave him a small nod, and the room fell silent again.

"What does your father do?" He asked.

Well fuck.

"Oh-" My voice ceased. "I..uh, I don't know."

Brooke's dad let out a small laugh. "You don't know what your own father does for a living?"

"Well," I said, my voice stronger than before. I didn't want to talk about this right now, but I knew it would shut him up. "I haven't seen him in 11 years, so how could I possibly know?" I said these words somewhat sarcastic, somewhat causal. Although, this isn't really a casual topic. Brooke's dad didn't say anything, so I kept talking. "Now, if you're talking about my biological dad, I don't know the answer either. Haven't seen that guy in about seventeen years."

"How old are you?" 

"Seventeen."

"Oh," Brooke's dad said after a pause. "Sorry."

"No, its okay," I sighed. "I get snappy, sometimes."

"I'm the same way." He said. We both laughed lightly, and my head shot over to the enterance to the kitchen to the sound of someone walking in.

Brooke stood there, her hair somewhat wet, and a light coat of mascara on her eye lashes. She looked at us with a confused look. "We're bonding." I said with a desperate smile. Brooke laughed and stepped further in the room. God, she looked really pretty right now.

"Ready to go?" She asked. I stood up and held my arm out for her to wrap hers around.

"Be back by 9:00." Brooke's dad said. Brooke rolled her eyes.

"K, dad." She said. 

"Nice meeting you." I smiled and followed Brooke out of the room.