Emilia's POV
Right after my last class, Ashton and I go straight over to his house so that I can finally have my study session with Luke. As much as I need the help, I'm not looking forward to studying more than I already do for trig—well at least try to. Why do I even need math? It's not like I'm going to pursue a career that involves it. It's a waste of time in my opinion. Stupid math.
Luke, Ashton, and I go into the dining room that is never used in their house and put everything that I need on the table: textbook, calculator, notebook paper—lots of it, rulers, erasers, and pencils. Just looking at the supplies is giving me a headache.
"Are you ready to get started?" Luke asks with excitement, while taking a seat on the wooden chair and cracking my trigonometry textbook open.
"No," I whine and pull the chair out from under the table with force, causing a loud screech against the tile flooring before I take a seat and slouch.
The two boys laugh at my childish behavior and I wave them both the middle finger. Mother Nature still hasn't left, but my bitchy attitude has lessened quite a bit since yesterday and I'm much more tolerable.
"Well, too bad," Luke says, and Ashton pulls up a chair next to me and sits down.
Since Ash is also pretty good with math, Luke thought it would be a good idea to have him help me as well and act as a positive reinforcement. I'm going to need it if I'm going to be cramming a semester's worth of information into my brain.
"Do you at least know the basic formulas?" Luke asks. "You should have memorized them since you have to use them throughout the entire course."
I click on the top of my mechanical pencil, making the lead slowly come out before pushing it back in. "I know of the formulas, but if you ask me to write them down and explain how to use each one, you'd have better luck finding a needle in a haystack," I say with a straight face. If he's seen my quiz grades and has looked over them, then he should know that I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
Ashton and Luke sigh simultaneously and shake their heads in shame with a smile adorning their faces.
"I'll make you a formula sheet," Ashton insists, taking the textbook from Luke and sifting through the pages and jotting down each formula on a sheet of paper with a black marker. When I look at the paper after he is finished, all I can think is that his penmanship is better than mine. The lines and curves of each letter and number are like a typed font while mine look like italicized scribbles.
Luke instructs me to look over the formula sheet that Ashton so generously created for me and in twenty minutes he is going to quiz me over all of them as practice for memorizing them. I just left school an hour ago and now he wants me to take more tests? I agreed for Luke to tutor me, not torture me.
Luke leaves the table, leaving me and Ash to sit together while he goes to his room to gather some of his old notebooks from previous math classes that he has taken over the years, which for some reason he likes to keep.
I hold the paper in front of me and scan the page of formulas and as I am trying to study, Ashton lightly kicks my foot with his. I ignore him, but when he kicks me again, I glance over the paper and glare at him. He smirks.
"What?" I ask in a hushed tone.
He shrugs, still keeping that smirk on his face. "Nothing," he says.
I roll my eyes and continue to attempt to memorize the paper until Ashton squeezes my thigh. "You're distracting me," I say with a hint of annoyance. He knows damn well that I am still on my period and that he is a distraction to me, especially when it comes to my academics, so I know that he's irritating me on purpose for his own enjoyment.
"I know," he says, grinning widely. His dimples appear and I just want to poke them for the hell of it, but I don't.
"If you know, then why are you continuing to do it?"
"Because it's fun."
My brows furrow and I continue to glare at Ash. "Luke!" I shout, loud enough for him to hear me from upstairs. "Ashton keeps distracting me!" A smirk forms on my face when I hear an upstairs door open and close shut, followed by heavy footsteps down the stairs and into the dining room.
Luke places a tall stack of notebooks as well as textbooks onto the table and stares Ashton down. "You," Luke says, pointing to Ash, "out." Strict Luke is not one to be messed with. "If you're just going to sit around and mess with her, then get out. I don't need you distracting her."
"I'll stop," Ashton promises with a not-so-convincing poker face.
"No you won't," Luke and I assert simultaneously.
I stifle a laugh as Ashton gets up from his seat, narrows his eyes at both of us, and stomps out of the kitchen and up to his room. Once Luke and I know that he is out of earshot, we burst into laughter and comment to each other on the look that he gave us just moments ago.
Luke takes a seat next to me and hands me a blank sheet of paper. "Now that he's out of the way, are you ready for the quiz?"
"No, but I don't think I'll ever be ready so let's just do it."
Luke makes me write down as many of the formulas that I can remember on the paper and surprisingly, I don't miss one. Although I will admit that I did guess on a few, but at least they are correct. Moving on from that, Luke goes chapter by chapter in the textbook and targets where I have most of my difficulty. With as slow as I am with comprehending math, Luke is very patient and explains what I need to do slowly; going over each step until I understand what to do.
In just two hours, I am able to use the formulas properly and effectively. If I were to retake one of my quizzes, I could probably pass it now. Luke just might be a better at teaching than my own professor. As long as I keep coming over for tutoring every day, I'm more than sure that I can pass the final in a few weeks.
"Did I fry your brain yet?" Luke asks, scratching the back of his neck.
I toss the pencil from my hand onto the table and stretch my arms out. "Dude, you deep fried it," I humorously reply and we both laugh. "But you did help a lot and I appreciate it."
"It's no problem," he says. "I actually enjoyed it."
"I still don't understand how you can like math so much." I cringe at the very thought of having even the slightest liking towards the subject.
He shrugs as if he doesn't even know why he likes it himself. "I'm surprised Ashton hasn't come down to check on you this whole time," he says, changing the subject and glancing towards the staircase.
I have to agree with him. It's unusual for Ashton to not check up on me. He doesn't do it in an over-protective way like Jared, but rather an 'is-everything-okay' way. "Maybe he's mad that we kicked him out?" I say.
He shakes his head. "No, he won't hold a grudge for that. Why don't you go up and check on him?"
I nod and make my way up the stairs and to Ashton's room. After knocking twice and hearing no response, I open the door and find him sitting at his desk; his back facing me. He has a habit of not knowing when I enter his room. I tip-toe across the floor and stand behind him, but when I look over his shoulder I see his hand moving, drawing in his sketchbook.
As I hover over him, I try to take a peek at what it is he's working on, but I lose my balance and grip onto his shoulders for support, which causes him to jump in his seat, throw his pencil across the room, and emit a girly squeal out of surprise.
"I swear, your feet are as light as a feather, woman," he breathes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I say, taking a step back away from the chair, and he brushes my intrusion off as if it were nothing. "What were you working on?"
He twists his body around and hangs his arm over the back of the chair. "Just some doodles." His accent makes the word 'doodles' sound funny.
"Can I see?"
He nods and waves me over. Looking over his shoulder again, on the paper is a sketch of a basic human figure with lines running vertically and horizontally through it for symmetry. There are several different versions of the figure on the page, such as, one in a walking motion, one waving, one with a hand on the hip, and another with its arms crossed.
"I'm not the best when it comes to human figures, except when I'm painting which makes no sense at all, but I think I'm getting better," he says humbly.
"Ash," I pause until his hazel eyes come into contact, "I can barely draw a decent looking stick figure, so in comparison to that these are outstanding. Don't sell yourself short."
He smiles and bows his head in embarrassment at my compliment. "Let me see you try," he says as he stands up and gestures for me to sit in the chair.
"Wait, you want me to draw that?" I point to the sketches and give him a 'you-can't-be-serious' look.
He nods and pulls me down to sit. "Well, let's just start off with what you can draw. Show me this stick figure of yours." He flips the page of the sketchbook to a blank canvas for me to draw on. Ashton pulls a new pencil out from the steel pencil holder and hands it to me.
"Okay, but I'm warning you: it's not going to be pretty."
"I'll be the judge of that," he challenges.
I glide the lead of the pencil over the paper, creating a circle that looks more like an oval for the head. I proceed to make a straight line for the body but it comes out slanted and I can already hear Ashton holding back his laughter. Ignoring him, I draw four more lines for the arms and legs and then put a smiley face inside the circle as the finishing touch. I turn to look at Ash and he has his hand covering his mouth that's hiding a huge smile and his face is flushed with amusement.
"See! I told you it would be bad," I say, pouting and crossing my arms over my chest.
Ashton lets his hand fall from his mouth and pets my head before picking up the sketchbook. "It's not that bad. I think the smiley face is cute," he says as his eyes scan my shitty drawing.
"Don't lie, I know it's bad. You're just saying that to make me feel better." I try to take the sketchbook from his hand but he holds it higher in the air.
"No, I think it's cute," he says. "And because I think it is so adorable, I'm going to hang it up on my bulletin board so that I can see it every day." He grins widely and tears the page out.
I stand up from the chair and try to grab the paper from him, but he being a giraffe and all makes it impossible to reach for it. "Oh, no you won't," I object and jump up to try and reach it again but fail. "Give that to me!"
"Nope," he says, moving away from the desk and to the middle of the room. I continue to try and take the paper away from him, but he keeps lowering and raising it up in the air, making me work to get it.
"Ashton," I say sternly.
"Emilia," he says, copying my tone.
"Give me the damn paper!" I shout while laughing and tackle into his side. He doesn't move an inch from my impact, but instead throws his head back in laughter and wraps his arms around his stomach.
With the paper in my reach, I hurry and take the opportunity to steal it from his grasp and succeed. I turn around and attempt to take off, but two strong arms wrap around my stomach, lift me up off my feet, and spin me around a few times. I hold back a scream while Ashton continues to laugh before coming to a stop, making us dizzily fall down to the floor together.
I am no longer holding onto the sketch and instead, it has fallen just a few feet away from us. I try to wiggle out of Ashton's grasp and when he looks up to what I am trying to get to, he rolls me over so that I am lying on my back with him on top of me and pins my hands on either side of my head with a smirk on his face.
"Nuh-uh," he says, shaking his head. "That's mine."
My body freezes again, just like yesterday. The position is different, but with the way he is holding my hands down, memories of Jared and me in the storage closet flash through my mind. Ashton's grip isn't hard on my wrist, they're actually rather gentle, but I can't move my body. I am pinned down and am unable to maneuver my way out from under him.
Unwanted panic flows through me and my lip begins to quiver. Why is this happening? My chest becomes heavy and it hurts with every breath I take. He's just playing around with me. I wince at the pain of my heart beating against my heavy chest.
I want him off of me.
Ashton's smile falters and eyes widen. His hands immediately pull away from mine and moves off of me. "Emilia, are you okay?" he asks. The worry in his eyes switches my panic with guilt.
With much effort, I inhale and exhale deeply before sitting up. "Yeah, sorry," I say and muster up a smile. "You moved me so fast that I got dizzy again and then when you laid on top of me, I started to feel cramps again," I lie. I am a terrible liar and Ashton knows that too. As he looks at me, I can see a little glimmer of doubt in his eyes, but he apologizes and doesn't question me.
He pulls me into a hug and I rest my head on his shoulder. Is it the way he catches me off guard that makes me feel insecure and scared? Is it the positions that he puts me in that remind me of what Jared did to me? This is the second time that this has happened and I don't want it to continue. I need it to stop...for both our sakes.
We end our embrace and Ashton stretches out to reach for the paper that led to all of this and smoothes out the wrinkles. I guess both of us clutched onto it pretty hard in our struggle to keep it from one another. He finds the pencil that was thrown across the room earlier and lies flat on his stomach and begins to add to the drawing. I lay next to him, propping myself up with my elbows and watch his hand move across the page.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"You'll see," he says, keeping his eyes on the paper.
A few seconds later, he slides the paper to me and on it is another stick figure—a much better looking one than mine I might add—and its arm is connected to my stick figure as if they're holding hands. Underneath the one that Ashton drew is his name while mine is still blank. He gives me the pencil and tells me to write my name as well, which I do.
"This drawing is so childish, but it's actually really cute," I admit.
He chuckles deeply and scratches the stubble on his chin. "Now I have even more reason to hang it up."
"And why's that?"
"Because it's of us," he says slowly.
We've never really taken pictures together. There are the occasional sneak shots that we would take of each other, but nothing of just the two of us. This drawing is the first picture to my knowledge that is of us both. We may be stick figures, and terrible looking ones at that, but either way, it's us.
Even in this uncomfortable position, Ashton scoots himself closer to me until his shoulder is touching mine and kisses me tenderly. He lingers there for several seconds before pulling back slightly, his moist lips still brushing against mine and our foreheads touching. And we stay like that, that is until Luke comes barging into the room. I forgot to lock the door. Whoops.
"I told you to check on him, not make out," Luke pretends to scold me. "It's getting late anyway, so Ash, you might want to take her home," he advises before leaving the room.
"Yeah, I probably should go. I still have class in the morning," I say as I stand up.
"Or you could stay here," Ashton suggests and I look at him bewildered.
"I-uh," I stutter, unable to come up with an answer. I've never stayed at a guy's house before and even if it is Ash, I don't feel comfortable enough yet. The shy side of me comes out and I shake my head in response to him.
He smiles, not even affected by my rejection and wraps his arm around my shoulder and places a swift kiss to the top of my head. "It's okay to say no, Emmie. It was only a suggestion. I'm not going to push you."
"Thank you," I mouth as we walk out of his room.
One of these days I will stay. I want to. But right now, I need to go home and talk to Julia ASAP about what is happening between me and Ashton and these instances of fear that I'm having.
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A/N:
I have finally updated! I'm so sorry for the wait! The new semester started this week and I have been busy with that, but in-between my classes, I have been writing (even though I should b studying) and making time for PYW as well as POC. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have a 6 hour gap between my two classes which sucks so much, but at least I can use that time to write, study, and potentially take a nap because I have to wake up at 5AM those days. Anyway, I'm going to try to update at least once a week (for either PYW or POC; not both). Try is the key word here, but I think I can handle it.
I hope you guys like this chapter! Even with Jared physically gone, his stupid self is still getting in the way of Emmie's life. Also, she lied to Ash!! Why do you think she's keeping the fact that she was scared from him? What do you think is going to happen next? Let me know in the comments!
Thank you guys so much for 16k reads. Have I ever mentioned that you guys are the best readers ever? I think I have, but I'm going to say it again because you are. As always, please continue to vote, comment, and share this story. I love you all so much! –Rebecca xoxoxoxoxo
P.S. Also, check out my other Ashton fanfic called Piece of Cake if you haven't already! If you don't want to, that's okay too :)