"What the hell. How is that even possible. No way."
I turned around to where Gene was sitting and held the sheet of paper up.
"Gene, did you see that? How the hell did we only get 70 percent?"
The boy just shrugged and averted his gaze with a frown. His reaction bothered me.
I stood up and walked over to his desk without wasting another second. Nobody minded anyway, everyone was too busy with their own grade and talking to their own assigned partners.
"So this just doesn't bother you at all?" I asked as I arrived at Gene's desk. He just gave me another lazy shrug, not bothering to look up at me.
Rolling my eyes, I dropped down on my knees so I was more on his level.
"Gene, this is a grade I would normally get. We were supposed to ace this assignment. You never get grades this low, do you?" I tossed the paper at his desk so he could have a closer look. "Do you now? Why don't you fucking talk?"
"Hey, everything alright?" Trevor asked, chiming in from Gene's right. Of course he was sitting next to him.
I shrugged and looked back at Gene. "I don't know, if your dumbass friend opened his mouth for once, I could tell you."
Trevor frowned. "No need to get all worked up. Let me see." He reached for the paper, and his eyes briefly scanned over it until he found the mark. "I don't see the problem. 70 percent aren't too bad."
"Duh, but Gene was involved in this. Shit, he wrote like, the whole thing himself," I replied, the annoyance in my voice steadily growing stronger. "I get 70's. Gene doesn't. This doesn't add up, and he just doesn't fucking care."
Finally, Gene sighed. "Because it's not that important. So what we got a low grade? We'll have to write plenty other assignments, anyway."
Trevor nodded. "Yeah. Sucks for now, but you'll get plenty of chances to score a higher grade."
I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "I'm sorry, can you turn away and mind your own business again? This is only concerning Gene and me."
"Yeah. Turn away and shut up," Gene mumbled without looking at any of us.
Surprised with his reply, I looked at Trevor to wait for his reaction. He briefly studied his best friend's face before giving in and turning away to chat with another classmate.
Just as I was about to open my mouth again, Gene dismissively pushed the paper towards me and crossed his arms.
"I don't care. I don't give a fuck about this grade. Take it or leave it. I honestly couldn't care less."
I hesitated, not sure how to react. I knew how to handle the usual cheerful and over-the-top-friendly Gene. I had no idea how to talk to this empty shell that couldn't even raise their gaze to meet mine.
So I just stood up and went back to my own desk, not taking the assignment with me. It was useless for me, anyway.
And there went my dream of finally getting a good grade with Gene's help.
"What was that?" Gill asked once I sat down. I briefly glanced back at Gene who was still just staring at the ceiling, not paying attention to anyone or anything.
"Gene's been replaced by aliens and it's freaking me out," I replied, my voice lowered.
Gill's eyes lit up. "I told you it's because of their argument, and the whole thing with Derek. Ha! I was right all along."
I rolled my eyes. "That's not exactly something you should be proud of. Gene seems to be really pissed at Trevor."
"Do you care?" Asher suddenly asked, and I flinched a little at his sudden participation in the conversation.
I hesitated. "I don't know. Not really, I guess. It's still weird to see."
Asher shrugged as he stretched his arms. "That's what happens when you use someone to manipulate a game."
"Yeah. It's understandable for Gene to be pissed at Trevor." I briefly glanced back at them, only to find them indifferent. When I turned back around to Asher, he was smiling. I skeptically raised a brow. "What?"
"You just agreed with me," he said. "You admitted that you're with me."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Adrian."
Asher's smile immediately vanished, and his expression hardened. "We don't use that name."
"Why?" I asked curiously. "Because Gill said it's bad? It's not that awful."
"Debatable," Gill said, and I waved her away dismissively.
"We just don't. So don't call me that," Asher said before turning back around and putting our conversation to an abrupt end.
Determined not to let it end here, I decided to bring the topic up again later, at a more convenient time and place.
We got pasta for lunch, and while everyone got theirs with tomato sauce, I got mine without anything. Not too happy with the dull meal, I joined the others at our usual table where Tyler and Asher were exchanging money again.
"Congrats, you won," I said to Asher as I picked up my fork. "How long has it been?"
He rolled his eyes and shoved the money into his pocket. "You should rather ask how much it has been, because your boy got a full 100 percent."
Tyler sighed. "I'll get that money back eventually, don't get too full of yourself."
"Hi Tyler," I said. He looked at me with a raised brow, not answering. "You know, people usually say hi back when being greeted."
Asher cracked a grin. "Tyler's not normal, if you haven't realized yet."
That earned him a cold glare from Tyler himself, to which he simply replied with an amused laugh.
"I just think it's unfair how you never talk to me." I shrugged. "Except to insult me. If you're gonna insult me now, save it, or I'll cry. This lunch is already depressing enough."
"Haven't you gotten used to him yet? He barely talks, even with me," Gill said.
"Yeah, because you usually talk so much no one ever gets a chance to open their mouth," Asher replied.
Gill sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Just because no one else has anything interesting to tell."
"I don't have anything to say to you," Tyler said, briefly glancing at me before turning his attention back to his food.
I raised my brows, surprised that he actually talked to me. "Why not? We could be friends. Or like, conversationalists, if you'd prefer that."
Tyler rolled his eyes, not meeting my gaze. "I take that back. I just don't want to talk to you."
"It be like that," Asher said with a shrug. "We can talk, though. Maybe about that awesome grade I got today."
"Or about your aversion to your second name," I proposed.
Asher tensed up for a second before catching himself and relaxing again. Then, he shrugged.
"I'd prefer the grade, if you don't mind."
"Jesus Christ!" Gill suddenly gasped, and we all looked at her. "I just remembered that the game is tomorrow!"
While everyone else went back to their lunch, I was the only one to get infected by her panic. I could feel myself pale, and my appetite was gone.
I couldn't go through all that stress again. What if I zoned out and missed something important and everyone would hate me? What if I got hurt? What if Asher didn't pass the ball again? Man, what if Trevor manipulated the game a second time?
Swallowing hard, I tried to focus on the other's conversation again to bring my thoughts somewhere else. The panic was still there, lingering at the back of my mind, just waiting for the perfect moment to jump back out and take over – but for now, I managed to keep it at bay.
We went on with our school day, and when the last bell of the day finally rang, I was the first one to leave the classroom. Asher followed soon after so we left school together, with Sam, Tyler and Gill trailing along behind us.
"I fucking hate soccer," I stated as we made our way through the rather crowded hallways.
Asher shot me a glance. "No you don't. You just don't like the games."
"I hate it," I repeated, more determined.
"Then why do you get so ecstatic whenever you shoot a goal or accomplish anything?" He shrugged lazily. "I don't know why you're so afraid of those games. You're doing fine."
I rolled my eyes. "That really means a lot coming from the one who almost ruins said games," I replied. "Seriously, do you keep going solo or are you finally planning on letting others play, too?"
Asher grit his teeth, and I could see his jaw tense up. "If I get the chance, I try to shoot a goal. Everyone does it."
"But you don't have any chances to shoot one. You just-"
"It's none of your fucking business, Kiri," he cut me off, immediately forcing himself to relax a little.
I stared at him for a second as we got closer to the school's exit. I remained quiet when we left the building, and once we were outside, I gripped his arm – firmly, but not to hurt him.
He just glanced at me, not saying anything.
"It's still this ridiculous idea of being better than Trevor," I said, stepping a bit closer to avoid unwanted listeners. "You do realize that you're only making things worse, right? You're not helping anyone, and certainly not yourself."
"Shut up," Asher said, carelessly shrugging his arm out of my grip. I frowned at him, not reaching out again. He sighed and tightened his grip on the strap of his bag. "If you wanna talk, come over later. I'm not discussing this shit here."
I watched him turn around and leave, for once remaining quiet. Realizing that this whole thing had probably looked a little weird, I decided to get going as well, quickly making my way back to Michael's.
The house was quiet, as expected. Today, the silence didn't once leave, even when my music was blasting through every room. It was still here, backed up against the corners, waiting for the right moment to take over again.
"Fuck this shit," I gave in, grabbing my phone and keys and quickly turning off my speakers before bolting out of the house.
The walk to Asher's was short and fast, and I caught myself being a little out of breath when I rang his doorbell. Taking deep breaths, I stepped back and waited for someone to open the door.
Once Asher's face appeared in the doorframe, I forced a smile.
"You know, I almost missed that scowl," I said. He sighed and stepped aside, holding the door open for me. "Is your mom here?"
"Nah, still at work," he replied, closing the door and turning to me. "How's that depressing house and the sad old man?"
I rolled my eyes, forcing the smile to stay on my face. "You're so dark."
"And you're too fucking bright," Asher said, looking down at the yellow shirt I was wearing. "It's like I'm looking at the sun. Fucking burning my eyes."
My smile turned into a grin. "You're just saying that because I'm hot."
Asher shook his head. "The coffee I was just about to make is hotter. You want some?"
"Yeah, why not," I said, shrugging. Then I followed him into the kitchen, sitting down at the table while he went over to the coffee machine.
My gaze wandered around the kitchen as I waited. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink, probably leftover from Asher's mom's lunch.
"Thanks," I said as he set a steaming mug down in front of me. He shrugged and sat down on one of the chairs.
"It might be bitter. Do you need sugar?"
"Uh, no, thanks."
Again, he shrugged. Not coming up with another distraction for my hands, I reached for my mug and raised it to my lips, only to burn my tongue with the hot drink. Pulling a face, I set the mug back down, trying not to let Asher see what had just happened.
"So, you're always alone after school?" I asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation.
"Most of the time. My mom just comes home to eat lunch, then leaves until like, six. Sometimes seven," Asher replied. "Depends on how busy the store is."
"Where does she work?" I asked curiously.
"She and a friend own a small flower shop. It's a thirty minute drive from here."
"Flower shop," I repeated. "Michael would like that. Maybe they should start dating. No, wait. He's already shipped off with Anna."
Asher raised a dark brow and reached for his mug. "You ship people? I thought that only happened on the internet."
I shrugged. "Not really. I just like the idea of Michael and Anna. What about your mom?"
"What about her?"
"Like, did she get in any relationships after your, you know, dad?"
Asher's expression hardened, and he set his mug back down. "Let's not talk about him."
I knew there were boundaries, certain topics people didn't want to discuss, lines I wasn't allowed to cross. But his dad was Asher's biggest issue yet, something he really didn't want to share – unfortunately, nobody could ever help him if he didn't open up.
So, naturally, I decided to keep pushing.
"Why not? He's pretty much still relevant," I said, shrugging.
Asher's gaze turned into a cold stare. "He's not. He walked out."
Just as I was about to reply, Asher stood up, his flat hands pressed against the table's surface.
"We're not talking about him. Not now, not ever. I'm down to discuss pretty much everything with you if it helps you, but he stays off limits," he said firmly, his voice slightly hoarse, his posture tense.
I just blinked at him, not sure how to react to his sudden anger.
"So you can expect me to push my limits and open up when you can't even do it yourself?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"It's not the same," Asher replied and straightened his back. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. When I come back, we pretend this conversation has never happened."
"Oh, so you're walking out on me now?" I said just as he was about to leave the kitchen. He turned back around, his brows raised, showing how unimpressed he was.
"I would never walk out on anyone." He turned back to the door, then stopped and shot me a last glance over his shoulder. "I don't walk away from people as soon as I get the chance."
He left me behind alone in his kitchen, and I could hear the bathroom door close just a moment later. My eyes fell to our steaming mugs on the table, my anger steadily growing.
I knew what Asher meant. I knew what he was saying, and I fucking hated it. The reproach in his voice. The judgement in his eyes.
He knew I was still planning on leaving as soon as this year ended – and he was using it against me, comparing me to his fucking father that left him when he could barely even walk.
I let out a dry laugh. I wasn't his father. I didn't have to feel bad for going back to the place I was supposed to be. Hell, he couldn't just use his daddy issues as an excuse to distrust anyone that didn't plan to permanently stay in his life.
By the time the bathroom door opened again, our mugs were still standing on the table, but the kitchen was empty. I quietly closed the front door behind me, crossing his garden with quick steps and making my way back to Michael's.
I wasn't walking out on him. Even though I left him I was still there, waiting for him to open up as soon as he realized just how stupid he was acting.
I was ready to have a conversation when he stopped comparing me to his father. For now, he needed to calm down and get over himself. He knew where to find me. He knew I hadn't completely left.
He knew I wasn't gone.