Shattered (Continuation of: The Chase) ▹ Ashton Irwin

Chapter Six

Come to think of it...I don't even understand.

"Brooke!" My mother said harshly. I didn't take the time to turn around and look at her, so I just kept on walking up the stairs. I got about half way up, until my mother spoke again from below.

"Brooke Marie-"

"Don't Brooke Marie me," I spat. I turned around and glared her, gripping the banister. "I'm fine, alright? Shit." I rolled my eyes, and walked the rest of the way upstairs, until I was slamming my door behind me and slumping down on my bed. I crossed my legs over one another burried my face in my hands, and I began to cry. I didn't know why...but I couldn't control it.

I couldn't control it at all.

"Freak," I spat out tears, shaking my head. "Fucking freak."

I didn't mean to act so weird or skiddish today...and let's face it: I lashed out at Jessie for no reason. I didn't mean to do that either, actually; I guess it was just a reflex. A reflex to make sure there's no one else to give Ashton any more crap than he already gets everyday. I could see why Jessie was so confused, and why Ashton looked at me, so full of what was probably even more confusion...because why on earth would anyone just accuse someone of starting shit when they weren't doing anything at all? Jessie was just walking by, but I told her to fuck off. It's no wonder why I threw everyone off. Not to mention, I probably got 4 hours of sleep last night.

I continued to cry, throwing out words that have the big negative connotations to describe myself. I was pissed, confused, and tired, all at the same time. It took me maybe 6 or 7 minutes until I finally took my face out of my hands, and looked around the room. I stumbled off the bed, and tripped over my feet as I searched the floor, my heart beginning to pound.

"Where is it." I muttered, wiping the blurriness out of my eyes. I finally saw Ashton's hoodie on the floor, and relief flooded over me as I snatched it up, and hugged it to myself. I fell back onto the matress and stared up at the ceiling, sniffling back the tears that wanted to fall down my cheeks. The smell of the boy I love never leaves this hoodie, no matter how many times I wash it. It's soft, and warm, and smells like Ashton. I shut my eyes, and took a deep breath.

Please calm down. I said to myself. He doesn't hate you.

I opened my eyes a couple minutes later, and that yearning feeling was back in my heart, and all I could think of was Ashton. He seems to be the only thing I think about, no matter what. Is that weird, or...? Like, I know I love him and I care about him so much, but does he think about me as much as I think about him? Fuck, I don't even know if he loves me back. Maybe...maybe I'm overthinking how I feel about him.

"You idiot!" I yelled to myself, sitting up. Overthink? That's fucking ridiculous. I don't overthink; I've always been able to put the right amount of thought into any situation. Of course I love him, why would I ever think that I don't? Well, I've never physically said it to him when he's awake to hear me...but does that separate what my mind is telling me and how I actually feel?

"Ugh, but I do love him." I mumbled, burrying my face in Ashton's hoodie. I know I love him; it's apparent. The feelings I get around him are so surreal and different from anything I've ever felt before, and I don't know how it couldn't be love. I don't know...maybe I'm just scared of what he would say if I was to ever tell him how I feel. I've thought about this so many times: the fact that Ashton doesn't seem to think 'love' has any meaning. I get what he means when he says this, but it also makes me a little sad.

I sighed once again, and decided to call Ashton.

*Ashton's POV*

I sat the counter in my kitchen, my geometry book spread out infront of me with my pencil quickly scribbling over the piece of paper, going in and out of the blue lines while my hand was beginning to ache. I was angry, confused, frustrated, and really unable to figure out why.