The Get-Go [Ashton Irwin]

25: (The) Get-Go

    According to 90's teen movies, Prom is supposed to be the pinnacle of a girl's high school experience. She's meant to roll up to the venue in a sleek black limousine, take pictures with her gorgeous boyfriend, and dance the night away with all of her friends.

    Technically, I've gotten all three points nailed; we arrived at Prom with Jesse, Zoë, Brent, and Sam in a stretch limousine, Ash and I had our photos taken by the hired photographer, and we've danced a few times.

    Nowhere in that 90's teen movie outline of Prom night is it mentioned what happens when your boyfriend's Ashton from 5 Seconds of Summer. They don't mention that at least half the girls in your graduating class will constantly be asking to take photos or to dance with him. There's no movie where a girl gets asked to dance by her best friend, and when she comes back, her rock star boyfriend has an impenetrable barrier of teenaged girls surrounding him.

    And if there was, he'd probably notice her sitting alone at their table, watching everyone else have the time of their lives. She wouldn't get fed up of waiting and brush past the boy who originally asked her to prom with a Green Day number while trying to get outside where no one could see her cry. She wouldn't be sitting alone with her feet dangling off the edge of the dock attached to the boat club where her Prom was being held, looking out onto the silent water while she tried to remind herself that this was the natural consequence for dating said rock star.

    This is his job, Wynter. This is his life. And if you can’t handle it, then you have no business being engaged to him.

    The water is cool but refreshing to my feet. I should probably be concerned that I’m going to ruin my shoes when I put my wet feet back in later. If I put my wet feet back in them later. I’m still not a hundred percent sure how Zo got them done up in the first place.

    "Baby, what's wrong?" That accent I love too much to be healthy sends a warm tingle down my spine. It's accompanied by the cautious smile and ever-growing hair of that man I love too much to be healthy. His footsteps clunk across the dock until he’s next to me, and he slowly sinks down to sit with his still-covered feet just out of reach of the moonlit water.

    I force a smile back at him, and shake my head. "Nothing. You were just… busy, and I needed some air."

    "You know what I really love about you?"

    "What?"

    His eyes twinkle with amusement. "You can't lie, Snowflake. Not to me."

    "I'm not lying!"

    "Another lie." Ashton shuffles behind me, settling with me sitting in between his legs and his arms wrapped around my waist. A tiny kiss is pressed to the shell of my ear before he continues. "Tell me what's really wrong, Snowflake. I can't make it better if I don't know what's wrong."

    Discreetly, I try to pull out of his grasp, which proves impossible, unless I want to take a late night swim in my Prom dress. Without leaning back into his chest like I normally would, I sigh quietly. "It's not something you can fix, Ash."

    "Why not?"

    My arms cross over my stomach as I continue to stare at the water on the horizon. I can feel my fiancé's curious gaze still resting on me, and wish that I had the confidence to meet his eyes. "It's just not something that can be fixed. Well, it could, but I wouldn't want it to be."

    "You're pregnant!" He gasps, squeezing his legs tighter around me. Almost immediately, he's staring lovingly over my shoulder at my still-flat abdomen, holding my waist in both his hands. "Hi, little guy - or girl. It's me, Ash– your dad, I guess. I just want you to know that even though you're a surprise, we really love you–"