Thursday, November 12th- 3:05 p.m.
By the time the end of the day rolled around, I grew more nervous to actually go to practice. I hadn't spoken to anyone since yesterday when I walked out, and even then I avoided talking to as many of them as I could last night.
The most recent true conversation I'd had with any of them had been when I'd found out about the bet. I'd avoided the locker rooms the last few practices so I hadn't actually spoken to any of them. I was nervous because none of them but Ashton and I knew what had happened after that night.
Anastasia Hemmings had to be perfect, and the idea of any of them ever finding out how broken she was is scarier than the idea of actually dying that night.
But Ash picked up on my nerves and stuck close by me today. Because of him, I wasn't concerned about what others were thinking of us for once. I wore his guns and roses shirt through school knowing damn well everyone else knew it was his, but I wasn't worried about them knowing I was with him.
In theory, I should have been more scared about being open about our relationship after finding out everyone else knew it was a bet, but I wasn't. It was like instead of viewing it as shameful, I found some form of pride in it.
We'd moved past it fast. We trusted each other, even if it was based on a bet. We knew what we had was more than what others knew, and I found a level of comfort in that.
I wasn't worried about the team knowing I still stayed with him. I was more scared of the talk that would go around.
I knew he would shield me from it as much as he could, but it didn't change I didn't trust Andrew to not spew something else he shouldn't.
But Ashton tried his hardest to raise my spirits all day- sticking by me through lunch since I couldn't sit with Calum and Luke, catching me in the hallways when he could, and walking with me to the locker room after the last bell rang.
I wasn't as worried as he seemed to think I was, but I also think he was working extra hard to regain my trust, so he was doing everything he could.
I still wasn't ready to talk to everyone else yet, so instead of stopping at my bench by Calum, I continued to follow Ashton over to his bench. I hadn't been home since yesterday so I didn't have practice clothes either, so he brought me an extra shirt.
I could feel all the eyes on me as I sat on the bench by his locker, changing between two of his shirts. It made me frustrated that they all couldn't just move on from it. Most of them were more stuck on the bet than I was.
Every time Ashton would notice my anxieties rising, he would pull my focus back onto him though. When I'd started picking at my fingernails again, he'd sat facing me suddenly to pull my attention.
"Your extra cleats are in my car," he told me to start some form of conversation.
I nodded back, not knowing what else to do in this situation as I looked around to all the eyes on me. After I'd caught enough of them that they'd all looked away in fright, I felt Ashton's finger catch my chin, turning my face back towards him.
"Let's go get them?" he suggested while holding my glance still.
I nodded again, slowly standing up as he grabbed his bag off the floor. He led me out, walking behind me but reaching in front of me to pull open the doors for me.
I walked silently, still nervous and honestly just offset after today. I just wanted practice to be over so I could go home and forget everything happening around me.
"You're not okay," he stated this time instead of asking, looking over to me as I finally looked up to him.
"I'm not," I responded.
He nodded back, having known that before I even spoke. He unlocked the car as we got closer, opening the trunk once we reached it. He moved things around to find my cleats, turning back to me when he did.
I'd moved to sit on the bumper, waiting for him to figure out where they were. He handed them to me with a smile, turning to dig his own out of his bag since he'd left the locker room quickly for me.
I pulled my arms out of my backpack straps, leaving IT to sit in the back of his car before slipping my feet into my cleats and lacing them up.
"We can leave right after practice to go get your car," he broke our silence, making me look over in his direction.
For the first time in a while, I truly appreciated this version of Ash that I got to indulge in. He was so soft with me, refusing to be the product that hurt me. His eyes were calm, his features almost silky in the way they flowed into the other.
He no longer looked scary to me- he didn't have a mask locking away the pieces of him I loved most. He looked perfect.
And that was the start to me admitting to myself that I still loved him.
I nodded back to him, feeling myself smile at my internal realization. He stepped closer to me as my expression softened, holding out his arms to invite me in for a hug.
I leaned into him, wrapping my arms up over his shoulders and nuzzling my nose into his chest. I took a deep breath to ground myself, smiling more as his familiar scent filled my nose.
"We'll be alright, angel," he whispered above me. "I promise." I spent a second internally deciding if I was ready to promise that we'd be alright again, but in the end, I remembered that I was no longer the one being burnt- he was burning himself alive to keep me safe.
I slowly leaned back off of him, unlatching my arms from around him to ask, "pinky promise?" I watched as his smile pulled so far his dimples appeared, making me smile too. I watched as he brought his hand up between us, his pinky extended for me to latch mine too.
I knew what I was promising by bringing my finger to his, but when I did, it wasn't off an impulse.
I knew we would be okay. We'd made it through hell and back. Nothing could take us out anymore.
He was my angel. He'd been the fire that burnt me, the devil that killed me, but most importantly the angel that saved me.
But hey, the devil was an angel at one point too. Ash just managed to kill an extra angel, take a piece of her with him, and reclaim both of their statuses as angels when he rebuilt them both from scratch.
What he did broke me, it always will, but that doesn't change that I love him with my everything. I'd rationalized the physical aspect of what had happened to myself enough times that I always ran back to that conclusion- no matter what he did to me, he was trying to protect me. He loved me with his everything and I loved him.
We weren't written in the stars. We were burnt in the flames of our past. Our fire burnt uncontrollably until it killed us, and now we were forever engraved with those past mistakes, carrying around the scars of our relationship.
But lost somewhere in those scars of our past was the way he'd written I love you on my leg in the cabin. Lost somewhere in those scars were- the friday night lights, the parties, the tequila, the lace body suites, the truth or drink, the panic attacks, the bleach, the missing memories, the records on my wall, the game winning goals, the roof, the last sip from that can of dr pepper, the 90's, the vintage jeep, the aux cassettes, the lake at 11 P.M., the nicknames, the late night confessions, the pinky promises, the over sized band tees, the cabin sunrises, no judgement, the strawberry sundaes, drunk face, tomorrows regrets, the homecoming proposal, the full stadiums, the three squeezes in a row, the silk pink dress, the bathroom counters, the record players, slow dancing, the way nickelback sounds, the vintage record sleeves, outer space, the out of tune guitars, the cassette tapes, the newspaper wrapping, the folded up notes, the star shopping, the walkmans, the broken pieces, the sunroofs, the bridge of fine line, the headlight silhouettes, the flower fields, the edging, the mac and cheese made from scratch, the love language of physical touch, the color hazel, the trust, my satellite, and the fear of falling in love.
Those scars would follow us forever. We knew that. But we knew we were stronger than the flames of our past.
"we'll be alright," I whispered back, leaning in to kiss my thumb as he did too.