Intertwined

Chapter 16

When I walk into detention Thursday morning Asher is sitting at his desk, with his hands fidgeting on the table. I nearly tumble backwards onto the doorframe when I see him. He spots me, hesitating in the doorway, and shoots me a knowing smirk. It pulls me out of my daze and enables me to move forward. In protest I stroll past my usual seat in the front row and head for the back, with my head held high and my gaze locked on anything but Asher.

I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move, as I settle into a chair on the opposite end of the room from him. He chuckles and I bite my tongue to keep myself from shooting a glare his way.

"Great you're both here," Mr. Fitch mumbles from the front of the class, before continuing on saying something about standard rules, before he announces his usual trip to the teacher's lounge, with the excuse of a printing emergency.

I have my headphones plugged into my phone the minute the door slams shut behind Fitch. I'm still doing everything in my power to avoid looking at Asher, but when the chair next to me is pulled out and Asher slips into the seat the mission becomes quite close to impossible.

I turn up the music, but it doesn't quite shut out the sound of Asher's chuckle. It does, however, make it a little easier to ignore how badly I want to glance at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the grey pool in his eyes.

Asher mumbles my name, or at least it sounds like a mumble over the loud music. I don't answer.

"What?" I sigh tired, pulling the earplug from my other ear as well.

"Are you ignoring me again?" he chuckles.

"What made you think that?" I spit sarcastically. I almost regretting it the moment the words leave my lips. Almost.

"I want to take you somewhere," he says, deviating from the topic, as if avoiding it.

"Where?" I ask doubtful. I feel like this has become a part of a weird and twisted tradition between Asher and I: he takes me somewhere, we have an amazing time and then reality comes crashing down over us and our perfect bubble bursts.

"Somewhere," he shrugs smugly.

"I don't know."

"Come on," he presses. He's sitting sideways on the chair, facing me, and I'm trying my best to look anywhere but at him. The moment I do I know that every ounce of self-resolute I have left will evaporate into thin air.

"I don't think it's a good idea." I'm watching my fingers fiddle with the cord of my headphones, but when Asher shifts in his seat it draws my attention.

"You can't stay mad at me forever, Charlie." His voice has dropped an octave and I can feel his eyes piercing into the side of my face. When I finally turn towards him, he's staring at me with eyes darker than usual. I swallow a newly formed lump in my throat; I'm a goner.

Asher takes my silence as his answer. He pushes out of his chair and strolls towards the window, pulling it open, before he glances back at me. "Are you coming?"

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "If we're doing this then we're doing it the right way," I tell him. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, as I get out of my seat and reach for my book bag.

Ten minutes later Asher and I are hurrying down the empty hallway. "This feels wrong," I hear him mumble behind me. I roll my eyes, well aware that he won't see it.

"Just be quiet," I whisper, as I peek around a corner. Asher ignores my order to stay behind me, and pushes past me, rounding the corner. "What are you doing?" I whisper yell as I follow him down the hallway, looking left and right as I do so.