"Aspen!" Peter hissed for the eighty-seventh time, the exasperation in his voice clear. The girl carried on ignoring him, her jaw set as she tried to focus on the task at hand. Done with waiting, Peter reached out and thumped the girl on the back of the head. She turned with a look that could kill, the fury in her eyes shining about as bright as they had the day before when he pulled the exact same stunt. "There she is. Hey Folsom, you don't happen to be deaf and crippled, do you?" he joked, causing her to roll her eyes.
"What do you want, Peter?" she asked gruffly, her knuckles white from gripping her pen with all of her strength. If he interrupted her focus one more time, she couldn't promise that she'd have the control to not shove the writing utensil down his throat.
He smirked at her anger -- something he always did because he knew it just made her angrier. Ever since they were kids, he always had a knack for getting under her skin. Lord knows she'd do anything for him, but he tried her patience. "Game tomorrow. Come with us," he whispered excitedly. When Aspen just turned back around, he thumped her again. She all but slammed her pen onto her desk this time, fighting back the urge to strangle the boy behind her. He just grinned. "Please? Rollie and I want you there."
"I also want you there," his seat partner chimed in, a broad smile on her face.
Aspen sighed, "I already told you -- all three of you -- that I have to study. Sorry Con. I'd love to support, but I've really gotta brush up on this chapter." A deep frown fell onto the girl's pretty face. Peter did his best to mimic it, but it was far less charming on his face. Aspen rolled her eyes. "Peter, you look like a sick dog."
Peter grimaced for real before sticking his tongue out at her. Connie let out an over-exaggerated sigh, causing Aspen to give her a pointed look before turning back to her French work. When she had turned around, Peter lowered his voice. "Told you. When Hops sets her mind to something, there's no changing it," he murmured, causing Connie to frown.
"Well I'm sorry if I don't plan on heeding advice from someone who didn't know my name after two weeks of sitting next to each other," she snarked scornfully.
Peter held up his palms innocently. "Not my fault! It's not like I ever talked to you!" he defended, though his argument lost all effectiveness when the girl brushed it off without effort.
Connie tapped her fingers against her desk, her eyes curiously wandering to the back of Aspen's head. She really wanted her new friend there, mainly because she wanted her to support the jv team over the varsity team. She knew her brothers played for varsity, and for that reason, her choosing to come to the jv game when she hadn't gone to the varsity game carried a symbolic weight.
Also, she just liked having a friend in the stands.
She hummed quietly to herself, her thoughts whirring. Finally, a small smile pressed onto her lips, and she gave Peter a mischievous wink. "I have another trick up my sleeve."
x--
That "trick" was dirty and uncalled for and entirely not fair. Aspen had heard the girl say it in class, and while she hadn't a clue at the time what it could've been, she figured that the boy standing beside her locker was a pretty big indication.
Aspen had to literally shove his shoulder away from her lock in order to enter her combination. "What're you loitering for, Charlie?" she asked tiredly, not able to look into his eyes. Was Connie a mind reader, or had Aspen really been that bad at concealing her blush around him?
"Connie says you're not coming to the game tomorrow," he hummed, his eyes intently watching her every move. Aspen wanted to melt under his gaze. Did he know what he was doing, or was he just naturally good at this? No boy was supposed to make her that jittery. Yet here he was.
Aspen murmured something that sounded somewhat like an "mhm," causing the boy's lips to pull into a frown. "What excuse did you give her, and how truthful was it?" he asked lightly, a joking lilt to his voice.
Aspen shrugged as she shoved her belongings around in the small space in front of her. "I have a quiz to study for," she answered after a brief pause. She staggered back gently, just far enough to close the door without hitting herself with it. She had developed a keen sense of depth perception; she never quite moved more than she absolutely needed to.
"And the honesty rating?" Charlie asked with a smug smile, a triumphant rush running through him when he noticed she had finally met his gaze. She perked an eyebrow lamely, causing him to click his tongue. "Come on. That's like, what, 40% truthful? Maybe 50?"
Try 0, Conway, she thought, though she tried her hardest not to let it show on her face. She instead gave a nonchalant shrug, her eyes aimlessly wandering away from his. "And what if it is? What're you going to do, force me to come?" she joked easily, a humored smile on her lips.
A chuckle rose in Charlie's throat, but he swallowed it. "The thought did cross my mind," he bantered, grinning like an idiot when he heard the laugh that escaped her lips. He paused for a minute before his tone changed, the humor falling out of it. He leaned against one of the lockers. "Really though. Don't tell me you're one of those people who hates jocks or hockey players or whatever. I've met way too many already."
Again, she gave a shrug, her lips curling up smugly. "Guess I won't tell you that, then. On to excuse number three," she chided.
This time, Charlie didn't withhold his laughter. A warmth bubbled through him when he caught sight of the small smile on her lips. "You're so coy, Folsom. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like talking to me."
"Sounds like you don't know better, then," she teased, surprised by her own hapless bantering. She had no idea where this sudden boldness was coming from, but she didn't want to think about it. The more she overthought, the shier she got.
Charlie winced playfully, a fake sadness falling onto his face. "Ouch," he whined, the humored glint returning to his brown eyes. He shook his head at her, "You sure know how to hurt a guy's feelings."
The chuckle that left her lips felt awkward, and Aspen hoped Charlie didn't hear the way it wavered. Her adrenaline was already beginning to crash, and she realized that at some point, he was going to expect a truthful answer as to why she wouldn't be attending their game. "You learn a thing or two, growing up with older brothers," she responded simply. She hugged the textbook in her arms closer to her chest, suddenly feeling out of place.
If Charlie noticed, he didn't show it. He had that same smile on his lips, his countenance completely at ease. She didn't understand how he was just perfectly calm whilst talking to new people. Since day one, he seemed totally relaxed around her, while every word that came out of his mouth sent her reeling. It wasn't fair.
"Speaking of brothers, I don't suppose you went to their game earlier this week?" he asked intently, a look of bewilderment flashing across his face when she shook her head. "Aspen, even Delanie was at that game! And apparently she hates both hockey and her older brother!"
Aspen rolled her eyes. "Delanie does not hate Jett. If anything, she hates Chris, and that's just understandable." Charlie seemed to consider that for a moment before giving a small nod of his head. Aspen blew a strand of brown hair away from her face. "Besides. I'm not keen on being in the same room as Rick Riley and his friends. Like, ever," she deadpanned with a scowl. Charlie decided that the grimace on her face wasn't as pretty as her smile, but he'd be lying if he said he minded the way it looked.
He perked his eyebrows at her disdain for Rick. It was understandable, but curious. "It's a big room," he appealed smugly, chuckling to himself when she glared at him. His tone sobered, "What's your problem with Riley? I mean, other than the fact that he's a fairly big douchebag?"
Aspen laughed quietly before shaking her head. "That's about it. For some reason, when I was younger, it seemed like he was always around somewhere. He and Joey played for rival peewee teams, but I still felt like we ran into him everywhere we went. And Joey was always too nice to ignore him," she reminisced grimly. A sigh escaped her lips. "Honestly, Roland is the only good thing to come from that family."
Charlie stiffened a bit at her fond tone. Of course he had talked to Elle about Aspen and the group of boys she hung around, but never to a great extent. He wasn't going to investigate or anything, and the thought of being jealous hadn't crossed his mind. He hardly had room to be envious, anyway -- it's not as though he and Aspen had known each other for much more than a week. Certainly he had found himself interested in her, but an inkling of a crush was nothing that held any real weight. Besides, he figured if she was interested in Roland, she wouldn't have been entertaining his very obvious flirting.
In fact, he couldn't help but wonder if his growing disdain for the boy was more about his last name than it was his relationship to the girl standing in front of Charlie.
Charlie bit back the snide remark on his tongue. It wasn't his place to badmouth a friend of hers, especially not when he hardly knew the boy. Instead he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So. Game tomorrow?" he asked hopefully, a cheeky grin on his face.
Aspen didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, no. Still not going to that." Her words were gruff, and didn't leave much room for negotiation.
But that didn't stop Charlie from trying.
"What if I bribe you? Ice cream afterwards?" he posed, grimacing when she shook her head. He sucked in an indignant breath. "I do your math homework for you?" That one she seemed to consider for a sliver of a second before shaking her head again. He scowled as he racked his brain. He tried one last time, "I let you wear my jersey?"
A scoff left her lips, and Charlie swore he saw pink sink into her cheeks, but she didn't budge. "I'm sorry, Charlie," she apologized with an innocent smile, "I just can't."
He pouted. "Can't, or won't?"
A bit of both, the voice in her head shouted, almost forcing those very words out of her mouth. With the ghost of a smile, she murmured, "I already told you. I've gotta study."
At that point, they both knew the excuse was bogus. Charlie frowned, seeing if he could get a read on her facial expression. But if there was something stirring in her mind, she kept it hidden. He didn't have any idea why she didn't want to come to the game, but he had a feeling that an English quiz wasn't it. "Alright," he finally huffed, a look of disappointment flashing across his face, "maybe next game, then."
It was similar to what Connie had said, so Aspen's response was nearly the same. She gave him a soft nod. "Maybe," she agreed, the word leaving her with that same hollow feeling. Though this time, she was almost positive that Charlie felt it too.
Charlie just nodded, hooking his thumbs through his backpack straps. He cleared his throat, "I should get going to practice." An awkwardness had filled the air between them, and while Charlie didn't specifically want to stop talking to her, he knew when to leave well enough alone.
Aspen gave a hurried nod. "Right, of course."
Charlie gave a small wave of his hand accompanied by a soft smile. Aspen hardly moved as he gently brushed passed her. He got a few steps away before a new wave of courage flushed through him. "Folsom," he called, causing her to glance inquisitively over her shoulder. He gave her a smile, "Hockey game or not, that ice cream invite is still on the table."
A small smile crept onto her lips, growing when she let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm lactose intolerant," she responded drily, nearly bursting into laughter when he scrunched his nose up in defeat. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, she backtracked. "But I can't say that's ever stopped me before."
His grin returned and he nodded, letting his gaze linger for a few seconds before continuing his journey down the hallway. Aspen turned around as quickly as she could, her face burning hotter than ever before. She couldn't tell if she wanted to swoon or collapse.
What was high school doing to her?