Emilia's POV
"Hey, Emilia!" Michael shouts as soon as my foot enters our history classroom. Thankfully, there are only five students in the room so far and they are all passed out, light snores escaping from a few. I'm surprised to see Michael has arrived to class earlier than me. Before we met, I always saw him arrive about two minutes before class started or not at all. He would always look exhausted and bored, but today is different; he's very chipper. I take a seat next to him, placing my backpack in the seat to my right out of habit.
"Hey," I greet. "You're very...well-rested this morning." I struggle to get the right word out.
"Rain helps me sleep and since we had that nice storm last night, I slept like a baby." He smiles, the apples of his cheeks prominently round. I return his friendliness and unzip my backpack and pull out All Quiet on the Western Front.
"Here," I say. "The book you were looking for?"
"Oh, right. Thanks!" he exclaims, snatching the book from my grasp. He drags his thumb along the text block, rapidly scanning through the pages. His eyebrows furrow at certain pages. "Didn't people ever tell you not to write in books?" he teases, showing me a page with words and phrases circled and underlined as well as the margins filled with little notes in blue ink.
I shrug. "My money, my book."
He chuckles. "Point taken."
A few more students enter the classroom, filling up the empty seats in the rows ahead of us. Class starts in ten minutes and the professor still hasn't shown up yet. He's normally punctual and arrives thirty minutes before class begins. As much as I don't like history, I'd rather not fall behind on the syllabus.
Michael calls my name and waves his hand in my face.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I was asking what you thought of the other guys when you came over to the house," he repeats himself.
"They were very...welcoming." I fumble with my words again, trying to come up with a more than average adjective. I should probably invest in a thesaurus. "Almost as if they were welcoming in a new member of the family."
His full cheeks rise as he smiles, a small laugh escaping his lips. "I guess that's one way of putting it," he says. "From the way that Ashton talks about you, it was like you were already a part of our little family before we even met you."
"Did I meet your expectations?"
"No."
Oh.
"You completely surpassed our expectations," Michael adds.
Oh.
"Calum and Luke really like you; we all do. You're different, not in a bad way or anything. You're just not very feminine, which makes it easier to get along with you," he explains.
"I feel like I should take offense to that." I chuckle with uncertainty.
He laughs. "Don't. We all like that you're not a complete girly girl, and the fact that you eat like a savage."
I playfully hit his arm. "I do not eat like a savage!" I defend. Michael begins babbling, imitating me and pretending to have a mouth full of food. The mix of his accent as well as his accurate interpretation of me eating made it almost impossible to understand him. "Okay, I get it. I do eat like a savage." There is no denying it after his little act.
We laugh loudly together, receiving angry shushes and annoyed glances from the other students. I quickly cover my mouth in embarrassment while Michael flips them all the bird. I take out my phone to check the time, and it is already past ten-thirty.
"If he doesn't show up after fifteen minutes, we can leave," Michael says, looking down at my phone.
We spend those fifteen minutes talking about the essay over the novel that is due in a week, completely forgetting that we don't have to stay in the classroom anymore. I guess the professor canceled class and decided not to tell us. I don't really mind though because it now gave me the opportunity to talk to Michael more. Students leave the room one-by-one until it is only the two of us left, leaving us to be uninterrupted.
"You know, you're the first girl that Ash has brought over to the house," Michael reveals.
"Seriously?" He nods. "He hasn't even brought over his girlfriend or anything?"
"Nope," he says, popping the 'P'. "Ash hasn't had a girlfriend since—" he cuts himself off. "It's been a few years since he's had one." His hesitation increases my curiosity.
"What about dates?"
"He hasn't had a date in a few years. The closest thing he's had to a date was a dinner with his mom a few months before we left to the states, and he didn't even get to drive her home." Michael laughs at his failed attempt of a joke.
"Why?" I ask.
"Why what?"
"Why hasn't he dated anyone in so long?"
He scratches the back of his neck. "Well, do you have a boyfriend?"
"No," I reply almost too quickly. I was hoping he wouldn't have taken notice of my reaction, but I know he did by his widened green eyes.
"Why don't you?" he asks, trying to prove a point.
I stare blankly at his face. My mouth is open but I won't let the words flow out. I can't let them out. Or more like I won't let them out. I glance down to my lap.
"It's not easy to answer, is it? We all have our stories, but this isn't mine to tell." Michael gently pats my shoulder.
I nod. It wouldn't be right for Michael to tell me about Ashton's love life. That's something he and I should talk about together and on our own time. I'm still curious though. Ashton has let me be the first girl to come into his house, and I want to know why.
Breaking me out of my curious thoughts, my phone begins vibrating; a new text appearing on the screen.
"Where are you? I've been waiting outside." Ashton's text reads.
I look at the time at the top-right of the screen. Eleven-forty. Ashton doesn't know that our class had been canceled, and we had stayed in here longer than class is scheduled to end.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I stand up abruptly, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. Michael looks at me like I had just grown three heads before I shove my phone in his face to show him the time. His eyes widen and he gathers his things before leading me out of the classroom.
We find Ashton sitting on the front steps outside the building with his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. Michael and I wanted to sneak up behind him, but our plan failed when Ashton lifted his face to meet mine.
"There you are!" Ashton drops his arms to his side, his eyes brightening "I thought you forgot about me."
I scoff playfully. "Couldn't if I tried, my friend."
The craters in his cheeks surface. "So what was taking so long? Did your professor lose track of time?"
"It was more like we lost track of time," I tell him. "Michael and I were talking and I forgot to tell you that class was canceled and time just slipped."
Ashton's eyes darken as he glances over to Michael. "What were you talking about?" A hint of tension consumes his tone.
Michael sighs. "It was nothing important, mate," Michael pats Ashton's shoulder reassuringly. "I was just telling her that she's officially welcomed into the family."
A grin replaces the blank expression Ashton was wearing. "Oh, okay." He's completely oblivious to the fact that Michael and I were talking about him, but I'll tell him later. "Do you want to come to lunch with us, Mikey?"
He shakes his head, "No, I have to head to another class right now, but whatever you're getting, bring me some." Ashton agrees to his request before Michael takes off to class.
"So where to today?" Ashton asks as we begin walking to his car.
"We always go out to eat," I complain.
"Would you rather us make something?" he asks skeptically.
It seems like for the past few weeks all I've been eating is fast food and I'm getting tired of it. It has also been a while since I've cooked. Julia is always the one who normally makes dinner and I would make the dessert. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be too hard to make something without completely burning it.
"That sounds perfect actually," I answer, smiling.
He shakes his head amusingly. "You're lucky I have to go grocery shopping anyway or else I wouldn't agree to this."
"You would have done it for me anyway," I tease, making my way to the passenger side of his car and waiting for him to unlock it.
"I would," he mutters under his breath, unaware that I could hear him.