Unexpected

by Bailey B

  I stand up straighter as a flat black motorcycle roars into the front of the school parking lot, stopping less than a meter away from me. It's a nice bike. Sleek, with enough room for someone to ride on the back. Fire burns through me again as a faceless girl wraps her arms around Asher’s waist. I bite the insides of my cheeks, using the physical pain as a distraction. I must be mentally exhausted to be jealous of an imaginary girl.

  Asher’s grey combat boots kiss the pavement as he balances the bike between his legs before killing the engine. I haven’t seen him since we left the art room. Not surprising, since we don’t have any classes together. He lifts the face shield on his helmet, revealing those amethyst eyes that capture my gaze. In this light, bright yet shadowed, they look like ice. Pale. Clear. With a hint of blue. “Need a ride?”

  “Not on that death mobile.”

  “Come on, Ellie. It’s not that bad. Here.” Asher takes his helmet off and holds it out to me, white with blue flames. It matches his jacket, but not the bike, which makes me wonder, Why?

  It’s no secret that Asher lives on the sketchy side of the tracks. While most of the families at my school aren’t rich, they’re comfortable. Once you cross the tracks, however, things are bleak. It’s common knowledge the families over there are barely getting by, which makes Asher having a motorcycle unusual.

  I would think that if he saved all of his money to buy the bike, and if he was able to scrounge up the extra cash for a matching helmet and jacket, that it would go with the bike. I’m being stupid. Asher’s attire shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Maybe Mr. Heiter bought it.

  “You wear this and I promise to go five miles under the speed limit,” he adds.

  I shift on my feet again, narrowing my eyes. I don’t trust Asher. He’s the kind of guy who has an ulterior motive behind everything he does. I don’t believe for one second that our fake dating is to make Liam jealous. Until I figure out what it is he wants, I’m not agreeing to anything. Not even a ride home. “You’re being oddly nice today. What do you want from me?”

  The corner of Asher's lips lift and he chuckles. The sound is light and carefree, devoid of the usual malice dancing behind it. He holds his hand out, waiting for me to take the helmet. My fingers tingle. I want to take his hand in mine and hug him. I want to thank him for having my back today in his own preposterous way, but I don’t.

  Asher sighs and drops his arm. His chin tilts down but I can’t read his expression. “I know I'm a dick to you more often than not, and for that I’m sorry, but I’m trying to do the right thing. Liam is a jerk and it kills me to see you so upset. So, please, let me take you home.”

  I look back at the football field where Maggie is. I should wait for her, but Asher has never apologized to me. Seeing him like this, so open and almost vulnerable, melts the wall of ice keeping him out. I’m probably going to regret it, but I say, “Okay.”

  “Asher Blaine Anderson!” Mom squeals the moment his motorcycle comes to a stop. She hurries down the front porch steps, then bounces on her toes, waiting for him to steady his bike. She holds out her arms once both of his feet are on the ground and tugs him into a hug. She squeezes him tight, then pulls back and gives him another glance over, her grin stretching with each passing millisecond. “My, how you’ve grown.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Walker.” Asher pulls the key from his ignition, silencing the roaring metal beast between his legs.

  Riding a motorcycle wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. Asher kept his promise and stayed five miles under the speed limit at all times. I told myself that I wasn’t going to be like those other girls and hang onto him for dear life. I did well to keep my word, but once we started going faster than fifteen miles per hour I didn’t have a choice. It was either hold onto his waist or fall off. I’ll never tell him, because riding on his motorcycle will never happen again, but it was kind of fun.

  “You haven’t aged a day.” He grins. “What’s your secret?”

  I pull Asher’s helmet off and catch Mom blushing. She shakes her head and runs her hands down her apron, which is stained with years of cooking mishaps. Most of which were mine. I can bake a mean batch of brownies, but I’m useless when it comes to real food.

  “A smooth talker, just like your—” Mom presses her lips into a tight line, cutting herself off. “Would you like to come inside? We’re having lasagna tonight, and I have enough to feed an army.”

  Asher smiles politely, eating up the attention and handling it like a pro. I wonder, How many times has he done this? Schmoozed with parents before whisking their daughters away.

  I shudder at the thought and push it to the back of my mind. How many girls Asher has been with doesn’t matter because, whatever this is between us, it isn't real. It’s practice for if I agree to the fake dating thing.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Walker, but I should probably get going. My shift at the diner starts soon and I can’t be late.” Asher holds his hand out for the helmet I’m hugging.

  I give it to him, feeling stupid for holding it like that, and take a few steps towards the garage.

  “Are you sure?” Mom pleads. She looks desperate, scared that she may never see Asher again.

  I get it. I see Asher every day, but for her it’s been ten years, and he’s a far cry from the boy she used to babysit.

  When he nods, Mom adds, “At least let me send some home with you. Your mother used to love my lasagna. That is, if you think she’ll take it.”

  Asher smiles sympathetically. Mary Anne, Asher’s mom, is a sore subject. Before their falling out, Mom was closer to Mary Anne than she was Rayna, Liam’s mom. I never figured out why she chose Liam’s mom over Asher’s. It’s a shame because over the last year, Rayna began to avoid us. Sometimes to the point of crossing the grocery store to get away. Now, we never see her.

  “Mom is working the graveyard shift tonight and our fridge is on the fritz. Even if I did bring some home for her, it would probably go bad. Thank you anyway.” Asher reaches out and touches Mom’s arm. If he has any hard feelings towards her about the way things went down, he hides it well.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I quickly step towards Asher and hold my arms out for a hug.

  I’m doing him a solid, saving him from any more awkwardness from my mother. Asher smiles, his eyes twinkling like stars in the sky as he leans in. I expected our embrace to be one of those awkward side hugs, but Asher goes all out. He squeezes me tight, with both arms around my waist, while pressing his lips to a tender spot under my ear. When he pulls back, I find myself wrestling with a strange, unwanted case of longing. I like the way it feels, being in his arms.

  Asher puts his helmet on and pushes the faceplate up, exposing his amethyst eyes. “See you tomorrow, Ellie. Bye, Mrs. Walker.”

  Asher slides the face shield down again and brings his bike to life. Mom and I watch as he drives away and eventually disappears out of sight. I’m glad he’s gone. I need some space to figure out how I’m going to make Liam come back to me without needing Asher’s ridiculous plan. For some reason, I can’t think straight when he’s around.

  Mom shakes her head, still thinking about Asher and mumbles, “He looks so much like his father did at that age, it’s scary.”

  It’s hard to picture Derek Heiter as a teenager. The man is so uptight, if you tried to shove a stick up his ass, it would break. I bite back a laugh but then remember, I’m not supposed to know the secret of Asher’s father. “You know who Asher’s dad is?”

  “What?” Mom jumps and looks at me wide-eyed. “No. Of course not. Mary Anne never told any of us who he was. Why?”

  I shake my head. I can’t imagine Asher would lie about Derek. It would be too weird, but it’s still hard to believe that Derek and Mary Anne had a secret affair. I didn’t expect Mom to tell me the truth about Asher's dad, but it would have been nice if she could shed some light on the situation. “No reason, but you looked at Asher like you’d seen a ghost.”

  Mom chuckles and throws her arm aroun
d me, pulling me in for a hug. “It felt like it. The last time I saw you two together, you were waist high with pigtails. I vote you stop growing. I don’t think I can take much more of it.”

  “Mom.” I roll my eyes and pull out of her embrace. “You say that every year.”

  “And every year I mean it more.”

  We walk up the front steps and into the kitchen. I settle onto a stool while she goes behind the counter and pulls dinner out of the oven. Dad is working late again, as usual, so it’s just me and her until about eight.

  Mom sets a plate of lasagna in front of me, then leans against the kitchen counter with her own in hand. “Why didn’t Liam give you a ride home? He picked you up this morning. Didn’t he?”

  I shrug, shoveling a forkful of noodles into my mouth. How do I explain to her what happened without spilling the beans that Liam and I have been hooking up the past five years in secret? I can’t. I have no option but to lie. “I think he and his girlfriend were going dress shopping for prom.”

  Mom chokes on the food in her mouth. She sets the plate on the counter and opens the cabinet behind her. After grabbing a cup and filling it with water to wash it down, she gets her bearings again. “He can’t be serious with that Corah girl, is he?”

  I shrug and stab at my plate. Corah is the last person I want to talk about. She’s going to prom. Stab. She got Liam to break up with me. Stab. Stab. She ruined everything! Stab. Stab. Stab.

  “Are you going to the dance?” Mom asks, in a tone that implies she’s up to something.

  “No,” I say, flatly. “I need a date to go to a dance.” I’m not making the same mistake I made at homecoming. Being the third wheel with Maggie while watching Liam dance with another girl from my loser table for one is not my idea of fun.

  Mom smiles again and picks up her plate. Like Mr. and Mrs. Heiter, she's always known Asher goes to school with us. Everyone just likes to pretend he doesn’t exist and avoids asking any and all questions when it comes to him. Until now. “Asher is cute. You could go with him.”

  “Not if I plan on staying friends with Liam,” I say, more to myself than to her. I slide off my stool and walk around the counter to put my plate in the sink.

  Mom reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “Liam is a great guy, Lainey, and a good friend, but that’s probably all he’ll ever be. Don’t let a man who doesn’t see how great you are hold you back from finding happiness.”

  “Mom—”

  “No, Laine.” She shakes her head. “Don’t ‘Mom’ me. I know you have a crush on Liam. I’m old, not blind. You’re eighteen and have never had a boyfriend, and I think that’s because of him.”

  She’s right, but I don’t want to admit it out loud. Liam and I may have only started sleeping together sophomore year, but I’ve been giving him all my other firsts since I was thirteen. Knowing he never cared for me the way I care for him is embarrassing. “Guys don’t see me like that, that’s all.”

  “Bullshit. You’re a beautiful young lady and I saw firsthand how Asher looked at you.”

  Mom didn’t see anything. Nothing is going on between Asher and me. We’re friends. Barley. And yet, my stomach flutters to life. “How did he look at me?”

  “Like you have the power to crush him.”

  Beep! Beep!

  “Bye, Mom!” I yell, running out the door.

  The music from Maggie’s red VW Beetle hums through the closed windows. I open the door and my ears are assaulted by her latest obsession, Machine Gun Kelly. Don’t get me wrong, I like a lot of the songs he’s made, but Maggie has a problem. She can listen to the same song over and over for hours, trying to find new aspects to it. Hidden messages. Musical genius. I don’t know what she’s looking for. All I know is after the fifth time of listening to ‘Bloody Valentine’ in a row the other day, I was over it. She twists the knob on the stereo, turning the music low enough that we can talk when I get in.

  “For the record, I’m mad at you.”

  Maggie being mad at me is as shocking as waking up to find the sky blue. She has had an opinion about my relationship with Liam since we were fourteen, landing me in her hot seat almost daily. Considering everyone thinks Liam and I are on the outs, I’m curious about what I’ve done now. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  Maggie huffs impatiently, like I should already know. “You didn’t tell me that you and Asher are hooking up! I had to hear it from Marley, who heard it from Alandra, who heard it from Karen, who saw him give you a ride somewhere yesterday.”

  I groan and drop my head against the headrest. I haven’t made up my mind about Asher’s offer yet. In the unlikely event I don’t go through with it, this newest rumor isn’t going to help my reputation. “Do people have nothing better to do than gossip about me?”

  Maggie shrugs, a shit-eating grin stretched across her face. “I think you two getting together is brilliant.”

  “We are not together,” I insist because, despite what the whole school must think, we aren’t. We’re just… seeing if we can stand to be around each other for more than five minutes. Yeah, that’s it.

  “Too bad. You dating Liam’s best friend would have been dope. It’s the ultimate fuck you, in my opinion.” Maggie flicks her blinker and turns right.

  She’s right, the situation would be the perfect f-you if Liam and Asher were actually friends, but they’re not. They’re brothers, and I haven’t decided if that makes everything better or worse. “Asher asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday.” Sort of. “But...I don’t know.”

  Maggie slams on the breaks at the stop sign, launching me forward and into the dashboard, only to be yanked back by the seat belt. “Ow! What?”

  I rub the sore spot on my collarbone then stretch the seat belt loose again. “Calm your tits, lady. It’s no big deal.”

  “Lainey!” She gasps. “Asher has never had a girlfriend. It’s a huge deal if he wants you to be his first.”

  I roll my eyes and try not to think about the heaviness of being Asher’s first girlfriend. Fake or not, the implication makes my stomach flip. Just another reason why fake dating is a bad idea. “He’s been with plenty of girls. I wouldn’t be his first anything.”

  “Yeah, hookups, but none of those bitches got the coveted title of girlfriend.” She groans and rolls her eyes. “What happened when Asher gave you a ride home? I know your mamma; she wouldn’t let you just show up on the back of a motorcycle, no questions asked. Did she freak?”

  The car behind us honks, forcing Maggie to focus on the road instead of me. She sticks her hand out the window, flipping off the person behind us, then shifts into gear again.

  “No. Mom was fine with it. She seemed more excited to have Asher at the house than me.”

  “Weird.”

  “I know. Right? So, what’s Russell up to lately?” I ask, trying to change the subject. Talking about Asher is almost as uncomfortable as talking about Liam. I love Maggie to death, but it’s no secret she and I don’t see eye to eye when it comes to boys.

  Maggie groans as she turns into the school parking lot. “Russell who?” She finds an open parking space then reaches into the backseat for her backpack. I don’t budge, instead opting to stare at her, expectedly, until she spills the beans. “We broke up.”

  “What?” I shriek, my mind spinning. Maggie and Russell have been in love with each other since Mr. Tabor sat them next to each other in Biology class freshman year. They are that perfect, nauseating couple you can’t help but love to hate. “Why?”

  Maggie shrugs and looks down at her hands. She puts up a good front, but I know she loves Russell. They were each other's first everything. That kind of love never dies. Everyone after is a band-aid, covering the wound of a broken heart, but never filling the hole. “What am I supposed to do, Lainey? He’s going to Berkeley in a few weeks and I’m not.”

  I shake my head, not believing what I’m hearing. They can’t break up. They’re meant to be together, like Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar. “That�
��s stupid, Maggie. People do long distance all the time.”

  “And it never works. Someone ends up ignored or cheated on.” She reaches over and takes my hand, comforting me through her break up. “It’s okay. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Follow him to New York?”

  “Yes!” Finally, she’s seeing reason! “Mags, there are tons of colleges in New York. You only need to get into one and you’ll have your happily ever after!”

  Maggie’s lips stretch into a tight smile. She gazes out across the courtyard, probably spotting Russell as easily as I do. He stands with his friends, hands in his pockets, head hung low. One of the guys nudges Russell’s shoulder and he looks up. He smiles, but there’s no joy in it. Even from here, he lacks the charismatic presence that makes him so endearing. I feel bad for him. For her.

  “Asher’s bike isn’t here,” Maggie says, nodding towards his usual parking spot.

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  It’s not. Bees buzz inside me, creating an almost painful unease. I thought I was worried about how Asher would act around me today. Worried that he may try to kiss me again because I opened that door. I thought I was nervous to see how Liam would react to me after everything that happened yesterday. Turns out, those nerves are competing with the disappointment of Asher not being at school today.

  “Miss me?”

  I look up from the beef stroganoff I’ve yet to touch, unable to fight the smile that lifts my lips. I don’t want to be excited to see Asher. We aren’t friends, more like forced acquaintances, but the bees transcending into butterflies inside me don’t seem to know this.

  “I didn’t think you were coming today. Your bike wasn’t out front.”

  Asher tucks his long legs under the bench and sits across from me. He twists the cap off his water, swallows, then pops a stick of gum in his mouth. “Had some shit to deal with at home, but I’m here now. Isn’t that what counts?”