Matches | √

Chapter Thirteen

trigger | event or circumstance that is the cause of a particular action

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2/24/17

BROOKLYN SLIDES INTO the seat next to me just as the bell rings signaling the beginning of class. I flash him a quick smile as our teacher starts to drone on about the group projects we've been working on.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Brooklyn asks quietly as our teacher continues to introduce the second phase of our assignments. But it's a Friday afternoon and she doesn't really have the attention of anyone at this point.

I shrug as I take a few halfhearted notes. "I know Franny wants me to go to a party with her," I say slowly as my eyes flicker up to the white board. "But I don't know if I really want to," I admit keeping my eyes locked on my notepad and the messy handwritten notes.

It's another party at Asher's and after running into him at the mall, after he called me nobody, I don't really want to see him. He runs so hot and so cold that I'm beginning to get whiplash from all his on and off again behavior. Plus going with Francesca means seeing her flirt with him, probably agree to another date with him, even kiss him again and the thought of that makes my skin begin to crawl with a mix of anger and disgust at myself.

Asher and I haven't spoken to each other once this week, not that is completely out of the ordinary. But even when he's ignoring me in public he usually finds a way to speak to me in private. Kiss me in storage closets. Touch me behind doors that cannot lock that makes what we do beyond dangerous but causes a thrill to race through me.

But this time I'm ignoring him as well. I'm not looking for stolen glances and secret smiles. He called me a nobody. He acted as if I wasn't even worthy of the dirt that sits under his shoes.

But even this week without casting me a second glance he somehow managed to still wiggle his way into my life just like he always does. Even when he's ignoring me and making me feel like crap he finds a way to do something so sweet that it covers up the multitude of ways he continues to hurt me.

This time he set up a donut-fund for me at Mrs. Scott's market. I went in to buy my usual pink sprinkled donut and she told me it was covered, that in fact my next hundred donuts were covered. I didn't even have to ask who did it, I knew only one person who would do this. The same person who in front of his mother made me feel like less than a nobody when he wouldn't even acknowledge me. The same person who sneaks in my window at night but is never around when the sun rises.

"You seem to be going to Asher's a lot lately," Brooklyn comments out of nowhere pulling me from my thoughts.

I lift my eyes away from my notes to my friend's big brown ones. "What's that supposed to mean?" I question uncomfortably feeling the back of my neck heat in shame. Because I am embarrassed about what has happened between us. Embarrassed about the way I let him have control over my thoughts. Embarrassed about the way I've been sneaking around with him behind my best friend's back.

He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "I...just..." he trails off awkwardly as if he can't find the right words at this moment. "Do you like him or something?" he blurts out finally and his words hit me like a bucket of frigid ice water. My skin pricks with awareness and my eyes dart around the room to make sure no one is paying us any attention. But of course all eyes are locked on our teacher or their phones not even worried about the words that Brooklyn has just thrown at me.

I clear the thickness that begins to coat my throat. "Of course not," I blatantly lie. I lie to my friend because the reality is much scarier to admit. That I do actually like Asher Lawton. I like the way his dark eyes watch me, I like the way he makes me feel desired, I like the way that he pushes me outside of my comfort zone. I like him, even though he's an utter asshole. I like him, and that's a feeling I shouldn't be having. Shouldn't want to have, and yet I still crave him like an addict waiting for my next hit.