I literally hate Gym with a damn passion. In fact, I don't think I've ever hated something so much in my life, and I was pretty disgusted with Chanel's Fall line. But Gym class really tops the list.
"Ella, keep up!" My teacher screams at me as I desperately try and dodge balls flying past me. We were playing some kind of multi sport game that I do not understand at all, and no one is even trying to help me. Instead, they put me onto the court and expected me to do something other than stand there and scream.
"What are we even doing?" I shriek, dodging a tennis ball that flies right by my head.
"Somebody help the girl. Please."
"You know, I have rights and this activity is highly violating those rights and-" I dodge another ball. "And I do not think that in this day in age I should be-" I dodge another ball. "Lowering myself to a position where I .... AHH!" I hide my head just as a basketball hits my arm.
"Heads up!" I peek out from behind my throbbing arm and see Ashton cheekily grinning at me. He winks before running off towards the hoop and successfully shooting the ball in.
I just glare at him, unamused. Which is really my usual look that I give him.
I decide to sit this game out, and the rest of the games to come, and take a seat on the bench to the side. Because I had no exercise gear I was forced to wear some second hand shorts and one of Ashton's shirts, and I was near gagging. I just wanted this period to be over.
"Hey, Ella, you okay?" Calum rushes over to me, his hair dripping with sweat and his face bright red. He sits down beside me and sprinkles water all over his face, panting heavily.
I move away from him a bit and try to not let myself smell his sweat, which is really quite overwhelming. "I hate Gym," I mumble.
He just laughs. "I kind of figured. Why did you choose this class then?"
I scowl at him. "I didn't!" I cry. "I'm literally forced to be in here."
"Really?" He looks confused. "They just put you in here?"
"Unfortunately."
"Well, that sucks. Especially if you don't enjoy it."
I just groan.
"Calum, you're up!" A voice yells and Calum leaps to his feet.
"Gotta go. I'll see you at lunch, yeah?" Before I can reply he's sprinting back into the game and getting right back into it. I can tell he's an absolute sports and exercise fanatic, especially soccer. He moves around the court, kicking the ball and dodging all opponents. How can someone possibly be that athletic?
"Ella, get back in there!" The teacher screams again. I've come to realise that she doesn't not ever scream. She scares the living shit out of me. "I didn't give you permission to sit down! This aint no resting home!"
"I broke my leg," I say calmly, leaning down to rub my leg.
"Broke my leg, my ass," she snaps. "Court. Now."
"But-"
"NOW!"
I groan extra loud and drag myself to the court, whining all the way. "You can't make me do this," I plead. "My leg really is broken!"
"It was fine just a second ago." She raises her desperately-in-need-for-a-pluck eyebrows at me.
"I, like, just broke it," I lie. "Like, really bad. I think I need to go see the nurse."
She just shakes her head, her arms folded over her Basketball jumper. "Unless you're lying unconscious on the floor in a pool of your own blood and your bones are sticking out, you're not going anywhere."
I stamp my feet in frustration. "But, please!"
"Jesus Christ, do you always whine this much?"
"I am not whining," I argue. "I am simply stating my case. You see, I am bringing forth my argument on why I should not do Gym because of my-"
"I really don't care, Stanford. Just go and hit the ball."
I roll my eyes in exaggeration and stomp away from her and towards the riot that's happening on court. This is absolutely unbelievable, who does she think she is? She needs to learn a thing or two about waxing and she's in serious need of a haircut. She shouldn't be talking to me like she is.
"Just suck it up, El," Ashton says from beside me, puffing as he bounces a ball against the ground. He glances up at me, his dimples forming. "You're such a princess. you know that?"
"I am not," I huff. "I just don't like sports. Sue me if that's so wrong."
"There's nothing wrong with that," he replies. Then he holds the ball up to his chest, like he's ready to throw it at me. I flinch and his smile returns. "But you can at least stop acting like a little bitch."
"You can at least stop acting like such an asshole," I retaliate.
He moves to throw the ball and I stagger backwards, and he just laughs before shaking his head and running off.
I think I'm okay as I manage to hide myself in a corner where none of the balls seem to go. I watch the scene before me with wide eyes, making sure nothing hits me. But what I don't expect is the ball that hits my side, making me yelp. I turn and see Ashton. He's not looking at me, but I damn well knew it was him who threw the ball.
So I pick the basketball up gingerly and roll it around my hands before arching my arm back and throwing it into the air. It flies towards Ashton at a lightening speed and hits him square in the back, and he literally screams.
He turns around and shoots me daggers and I just give him a satisfied smirk.
God, I had had it up to here with Ashton freaking Irwin.
———-
I sit in Art listening to Michael and Luke rabbit on about some new song from some new band they like, and how 'awesomely mind blowing the rifts are', or something music geekish like that. I don't know what we're actually supposed to be doing, but the entire class looks just as bored as I am. I'm really the only one who isn't talking to anyone, and it's quite obvious how alone I am. I absentmindedly tap my fingers against the desk, scanning around the room for something to focus on.
Why was I even in Art anyway? Did my mum not give at least some kind of idea of my interests when she enrolled me? The only classes I had that I liked were English and History, and History had just been ruined for me by a red haired freak. I enjoyed the more literature classes as I was not creative at all and hopelessly sucked at the more academic subjects and definitely the physical ones.
"Has everyone been working on their projects?" The teacher finally speaks up for the first time this lesson.
I freeze. "What project?" I turn to Luke and Michael who are still heavily engaged in conversation.
They turn to me and Michael just shrugs, an annoyed expression on his face due to me interrupting his and Luke's 'special time' or whatever.
"The one about emotional and spiritual shit," Luke replies nonchalantly.
I vaguely remember it, but I didn't actually think it was a real thing. "Wait, we were actually meant to do that?"
He shrugs. "Apparently."
"Did you guys do yours?"
Luke laughs. "Fuck off. I don't do anything in this class."
"I did mine," Michael speaks up obnoxiously, as he does.
"What did you do?" I ask, suddenly intrigued. I really wanted to know what spoke to Michael on an emotional and spiritual level.
"Yeah, show us," Luke adds.
"Piss off," he mumbles. "I aint showing you shit."
"Oh come on, pussy." Luke nudges him. "Just show us."
"At least tell us what it is," I say.
"It'll be a painting," Luke informs me. "Michael does painting."
I arch an eyebrow. "You do?"
Michael's cheeks start to go the colour of his hair. "Not really."
Luke just rolls his eyes. "You are such a loser." He turns to me. "He's like crazy good. Has been painting for years."
"I'm not that good-"
"Fuck up, Michael. I'm not talking to you."
"Well, you know, I'm considered a painting person expert where I come from," I tell Michael, hopelessly lying. I just want to see his work and judge it. "So, I think you should show me your work."
"What the hell?" He cries. "That's complete bullshit, I know for a fact you've never painted before in your life."
"And how would you know that?" I stab back.
"For one, you just called yourself a 'painting person expert' instead of an artist, and I can just tell by looking at you."
"Well, isn't that a bit judgemental?" I defend.
He snorts. "Oh, please."
"Okay, so as interesting as this obvious sexual tension is, I'm getting bored." Luke yawns and leans back in his chair. "Are you going to show us your artwork or not, Mikey?"
"When pigs fly," he retaliates.
"You know, I've never understood that expression," Luke says. "Why would pigs ever fly?"
"That's the point, dumbass," Michael shoots at him.
"But, like, I still don't get it."
"I'm confused as to why you, a teenage boy, would actually use that expression," I say. "Like, how uncool can you actually be?"
Luke bursts out laughing and I can't help but smile, knowing that I've actually said something that made him laugh. I feel a small connection between us, one I've never really had before. It's like I'm actually a part of the conversation, an enjoyment of his company. And I like that.
"She's got you there." He grins at Michael, who just rolls his eyes and goes back to looking at his phone.
"You both suck," Michael mumbles.
Luke and I just laugh.
———-
"DROP EVERYTHING!"
I drop my fork in fright as Luke comes sprinting towards our usual lunch table, smacking some kind of flyer down onto the surface for all of us to see. He's completely out of breath, his entire face as bright as Michael's hair.
"Dude, what?" Michael looks up from his phone.
"Look!" Luke hovers over the sheet on the table, his finger pointing to the big words at the top that reads BlueValley High Fair. I really didn't understand his excitement, but then again if I actually tried to understand any aspect of these boys my brain would be totally fried. I had quickly learnt to just go with things and not even bother with trying to figure it all out.
Ashton groans. "We're having another fair? How many fairs does this damn school feel the need to have?"
"Well, actually, it's called an annual fair for a reason ..." Calum says.
"Not the fair, dick." I try and see what Luke's pointing at, but the boys all have their heads swarmed around him and I can't see a damn thing. "This."
"Open mic?" Michael reads aloud. "You mean, like-"
"A chance for us to play!" Luke screams.
"What? No way!" Ashton cries. "To the whole school?"
"I asked Mr. Whittaker about it," Luke informs us all, except I'm not really listening. I just push my pasta around my container with my fork in utter boredom, zoning out like I always do when the boys talk about music or their lame band. Which is always. "He said anyone can apply, and we get ten minutes onstage. That's like two songs! This could be our chance!"
"Is it a competition?" Michael immediately questions. "Like, can there be a winner?"
"Yeah, it is! There's judges and everything. And the winner gets money I'm pretty sure."
I glance up to look at them all jumping and screaming about and I curl my lip up in disgust. What the actual hell?
"Where do we sign up?" Calum cries.
"I've already done it!" Luke grins. "We're scheduled in for three in the afternoon."
"I'm so pumped!"
"When even is the fair?"
"Two weeks away. It's on a Saturday I'm pretty sure."
"We have that gig this Saturday, right?"
"Shit, I forgot about that! That's two days away!"
"What songs are we going to do?"
"We definitely need to have a practice. After school?"
"I have soccer practice."
"Fuck soccer practice!"
"I ditched last time!"
"Calum, this is the future of the band we're talking about."
"Okay, fine. But I better not get kicked off the team."
"I'm having family over later tonight, so as long as you're all out by six it'll be sweet."
"Who's bring what? I brought drinks last time, I think I'm on food duty."
"Yeah, you're on food duty. I'll do drinks?"
"Sweet, can you bring some juice? We ran out."
"Alright, I'm on video games then. Mario Kart?"
"Nah, we played that last time."
"And what?"
"I need to go to the bathroom," I mumble, getting out from the table. I pause for a while, waiting for them to break away from their conversation and say something to me. They don't.
"I've been working on this really sick tune, I'll play it for you guys this afternoon."
"Fuck, I think I need a new shirt for this gig."
"I'm going to the ..." I sigh. "Alright, fine. Bye." I grab my bag and walk away from the table. I still hear them chattering away when I enter the building.
I really needed to start making some friends, people that actually had the same interests as me. People who I could actually have conversations with. I hated hanging with Ashton's friends, because they all had special inside jokes and things that I just obviously wasn't apart of, and they didn't even try to include me in their conversations. It was like I wasn't even there. I don't know why, but I guess that kind of upset me a bit.
I walk down the halls towards the closest bathroom, entering the women's one and dumping my bag down on the counter before opening it up and fetching out my make up back to top myself up. As I'm doing so, the door opens and someone stands beside me at the sink, mirroring my actions.
"Do you think red or purple?"
I turn to her once I realise she's talking to me. She's a tall girl, with dark brown hair pulled back into some stylish bun, and big brown eyes that compliment her tanned skin. She's the first girl I've seen here with admirable fashion, her slim figure dressed in a white lace sundress with matching white tennis shoes. I notice the two different lipsticks in her hands, one a bright red and one the complete opposite in a dark, deep purple. She looks at me expectantly, as if my answer is what will decide the fate of the world.
"I think purple," I tell her. "Everyone knows red is just a trashy girl's lipstick, or a middle aged aunt's."
The girl lets out a loud laugh before putting away her red lipstick and beginning to apply the purple to her lips. "I thought the exact same." She finishes her application and drops the lipstick back into her bag. "I'm Chelsea, by the way. I haven't seen you around before. Are you new?"
"Yeah, I just moved here from L.A," I tell her. "I'm Ella."
Her eyes widen at the mention of L.A. "L.A? Why on earth did you move here?"
I roll my eyes. "Parents."
She groans, letting me know she totally understands. "Oh, god. Say no more. Don't parents suck?"
"They really do." I nod.
"Well, thanks for the help, Ella. I definitely don't ever want to look like a middle aged aunt." She giggles.
I smile. "I don't think many people do."
"I'll see you around." She lifts her delicate fingers up in a wave before exiting the bathroom. I take a few more seconds to finish retouching my make up before walking back out to the boys.
They're still talking. Honestly, why am I even still living right now?
I slide back into the table and sigh loudly, dumping my bag down. I don't think these boys would even know I was here if I straight out hit them in the face with my existence. The way they're sitting even blocks me out. There's really no point in me being here at all, but where else can I sit? I'd rather look alone in a group of people than just looking straight up alone.
"Hey, where'd you go?"
I look up, startled. Ashton's looking at me, a small worried expression on his face. "Wait, what?" He actually noticed I wasn't there?
"I went to look back at you, and you weren't there ..."
"I-I went to the bathroom?"
"Oh." He relaxes, giving me a small smile. "You okay?"
I look at him strangely, not at all understanding what he's doing. "Fine ...."
"Sweet. You're okay to come to Mikey's after school, ay?"
"I guess?"
He grins and nods before turning back towards the others.
This boy confused the hell out of me.
————
"No, Ella, you're doing it wrong!"
"I don't know what I'm doing!"
"You're dying!"
"I know that! Help me!"
"Push X!"
"Where's X?"
"Oh, my god."
"Just let her die. It'll make the world so much better."
"I will not go down that easily! I found X!"
I furiously attack my controller as I look at the screen before me that depicts Michael and I as two Pokemon characters. Turns out X just shoots fire, and that's all I've learnt to do, and Michael seems to be dodging it pretty well so I'm not doing a very good job. He throws some kind of green ball at me continuously and it makes my character, which by the way is Pikachu - Michael really wanted Pikachu, but I beat him to the character and he got really pissed and is now some other lizard thing, I don't even know. I just wanted Pikachu because he was cute, to which Michael informed me that 'duh, he's cute. He's, like, my favourite', fade a lot. My energy bar is way down and I'm seriously freaking. Pikachu can't die.
"How do I dodge his green things?" I cry, continuing to push X and attack him.
"The square!" Luke cries. He's on my side, I think. Ashton's on Michael's. And I think Calum is just watching it all whilst he eats doughnuts. He's like Switzerland in this war.
I push square and manage to dodge Michael's hit just in time. Luke cheers loudly.
"Okay, push the triangle to punch. No, that one. Yes. Go!"
"Come on, Mikey. You've got this," Ashton cries.
"Of course I've fucking got this," Michael snaps as he kicks Pikachu in the side. I gasp. "Squirtle is not going to lose to Pikachu."
"Thought Pikachu was your favourite." I smirk, dodging another one of his hits.
"Not when he's played by a girl."
"You can do this, Ella," Luke says from beside me. "His energy is lessening. Come on, kick Squirtle's ass!"
I grow more determined, emitting my entire soul into winning this game. Michael and I continue to battle it out, and I quickly get the hang of what to do. Within just seconds, we're at a tie.
"TRIANGLE, TRIANGLE, TRIANGLE!" Luke screams at me.
"I'M PUSHING TRIANGLE!" I scream back, almost in tears. This game is so intense.
"YOU'RE FUCKING NOT!"
"KICK HER, MIKEY. SHE'S DOWN."
"FLAME HIM, ELLA."
I push all the buttons madly, barely even looking at the screen. I have no idea what's going on as all I hear is just screams coming from all the boys. And then a loud alarm is sounded and Michael and I have both stopped moving. I look down at my controller then back up at the scream. Pikachu is jumping whereas Squirtle is lying on the ground.
"What happened?" I cry. "What's he doing?"
"You're fucking kidding me," Michael mutters.
"What did I do?" I panic.
"YOU WON!" Luke stands up, pulling me up with him. He does some extravagant dance thing before pointing at Michael and Ashton. "Shame, bitches!"
"I won?" I repeat. "As in, I won the game?"
"Beginner's luck," Michael mumbles, throwing his controller down on the floor.
"Ella, I think you have a talent at video games." Calum laughs.
"No, wait. I, like, actually won?" I couldn't believe it. This was the biggest accomplishment of my life. I had beaten Michael at his own game, literally.
"Would you stop saying it?" Michael huffs.
"Woah, talk about a sore loser," I tease.
"That's Michael in a nutshell." Luke laughs.
"I am not a sore loser," Michael snaps.
"Hate to say it, Mikey, but you really are," Ashton speaks up with a shrug of his shoulders. "Congrats, El. Who knew you had it in you?"
"That game was so easy." I roll my eyes, my lips lifting in a smile as the others laugh.
"It should have been, it was on, like, the lowest level."
"Oh, is that why you won?" I grin at Michael, and he just frowns.
"Fuck up."
"Ah, Michael. You should probably just retire from video games now. You're doomed." Luke wraps his arm around Michael's shoulders, and Michael just pushes him off.
"Okay, okay. So I lost, whatever. It's not a big deal." Michael sighs, pouring himself a glass of juice. "I bet if we had a rematch, you'd lose."
"You're on," I challenge.
"We should probably get going." Ashton stands to his feet. "It's nearly six. Aren't your family coming soon?"
"Oh, shit," Michael cries. "Yeah, they will be."
The afternoon hadn't actually been so bad, I was involved a bit more than I had expected. The boys played a few songs, asking me which ones I liked, and then we moved onto playing video games. Which obviously wasn't so bad, as I was actually kind of okay at them. Go figure.
"You guys need a ride home?" Ashton asks Luke and Calum.
"I've got Calum," Luke replies, grinning at the boy and pulling him into his chest. Calum just looks up from his box of crackers - hang on, where'd they come from?- with confused eyes and red cheeks.
"Alright, see you guys tomorrow."
"Good game, Michael," I tease, and Michael just flips me off. I wave goodbye to Luke and Calum before following Ashton outside to his truck.
"So, that was kind of fun," I say as we hop into the car.
"Yeah? You thought so?" He starts the car. "You looked like you were enjoying it."
"I enjoyed whipping Michael's ass." I smirk.
Ashton laughs. "Yeah, that was definitely a good time. What did you think of the songs? Did you like them?"
I replay the songs that I had heard this afternoon in my head. "I liked the first one, and the fourth one. The second was pretty good too."
"Not the third one?"
"I don't know," I answer honestly. I was obviously not any kind of expert in this field. "They were all fine."
"We really need to make a good impression for this gig," he says, running his free hand through his messy curls.
"Is it your first one?"
"We've done a few before, but I'd hardly count them," he answers. "I mean, we didn't get paid for them. This is our first paid gig in an actual pub, with, like, more than twelve people, or people who aren't family members." He laughs lightly.
I hesitate, taking his information in. "Are you nervous?"
He pauses for a second or two. "Terrified."
It's the first time I had heard of the emotion even being said by him, let alone him actually feeling it. Growing up, I used to think Ashton was fearless. He was. He loved every kind of adventure, and always got me into doing things I never thought I could do. To hear him admit such an emotion is kind of strange. I guess it's just another thing about him that's changed over the years. Maybe there is nothing of him from the past that still exists in the present.
"Ashton?"
"Yeah?"
"I think you'll be fine."
He hesitates for quite some time before finally replying. "Will you be there?"
The question throws me back a little. Did he actually want me there? "Um, sure. If you want me to be?"
"I really would."
I turn to him to find him smiling at me, and I smile back, even though my stomach is churning. Why did he keep doing this? Acting so hot and cold? And why did I care so much? It was like, one minute he'd say stuff like this and act like we had some kind of weird connection, then the next he'd be ignoring me and throwing insults my way. I didn't get it. What was he trying to do?
I decide to not think about it and look out the window for the rest of the trip to avoid his hazel eyes looking into mine.