“Eric, stop it,” Ashlyn hissed. “You’re being ridiculous. That’s for the paper.”
Eric glared at her, holding the camera above his head. “You know what I think?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer.
Ashlyn felt her heart shatter to a million pieces, just like the lens of her camera as it came colliding into the wall of lockers.
“Eric! No!”
She tried to reach for the camera, but he slammed it against the lockers again. Though her vision was already blurring, she could see a group of people rushing over.
“I think.” Slam. More pieces fell. “That you’re nothing.” Slam. “But a dumb.” Slam. “Cleat chaser.”
The camera then fell to the floor, a shattered and irreparable mess.
Before Eric could say another word, Ellis and Byron had him slammed against the lockers.
“What is your problem,” Ellis growled, grabbing Eric by the collar.
Eric laughed maniacally, his face still red with anger.
Emory pushed her way in. “I swear, I will gut you like a fish for that!” She attempted to take a swing, but Deacon protectively wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up and out of reach.
“We don’t need you getting into trouble too,” he whispered as she squirmed for him to put her down.
“Mr. Weaver,” a voice boomed through the hallway. It was loud enough that the students still in the school parted like the Red Sea. Mr. Reynolds was generally more on the quite side when it came to teachers in the school, but looking at him right now put fear in all those around. “Principal Willis! Move it! Now!”
The guys released Eric, although rather roughly, giving him a good shove forward.
Emory and Tripp were bending down in hopes of consoling Ashlyn when Mr. Reynolds made his way in, ushering them aside. He looked down at the camera, fully knowing that Ashlyn opted out of using the school cameras for assignments.
“I’m sorry, Ashlyn. I can’t tell you not to worry about this, because I know you will. Please come to my room before school tomorrow. We’ll get a school issued camera for you for the remainder of the year.”
Ashlyn nodded, but that wasn’t the point. This was hers. This pile of plastic was once something that was so special to her, and he destroyed it.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. There’s no telling where that boy is headed,” Mr. Reynolds sighed, knowing that he needed to make sure that Eric ended up in Willis’ office.
After Mr. Reynolds left, Ashlyn looked for the place where the memory card was and slipped it out and into the pocket of her jeans. She began scooping the remains into her bag, knowing that it would only go into the garbage once she got home.
Tripp began reaching for some of the pieces while Emory tried to give Ashlyn a hug. Ashlyn gave up and shoved Emory away as she quickly stood.
“Ash,” Emory began.
“No. I don’t want to hear it. Not from either one of you,” she cried.
She turned and rushed out of the school leaving behind her nothing more than a trail of tears.
Chapter 17
“Ash, is everything okay,” Poppy asked, poking her head into her daughter’s darkened room. “I have breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry,” Ashlyn mumbled.
Poppy made her way to the window and glanced at the blank canvas on the easel. “Did you finish the one you were working on?” She pulled back the curtains, allowing the early morning light to trickle in.
“Mhmm.”
Poppy looked over to Ashlyn, still in bed, buried in the covers. “I take it you’re not going to school today,” she asked, now sitting at the foot of the bed.
“I’m sorry, mom. I just don’t feel good,” Ashlyn only partially lied.
“I understand. Sometimes we all need a break, a mental health day.”
Ashlyn pulled the covers away. Her eyes burned from the light streaming through her room.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Poppy knew that something had happened at school the moment she saw Ashlyn the evening prior, but Ashlyn had clammed up and not mentioned a word.
“I just want to stay in my room, forever,” Ashlyn sighed, attempting to prop herself up with pillows.
Poppy laughed softly. “I’ve been there before, especially as a teenager. Just remember, a ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what a ship is built for.”
Ashlyn groaned. “Really, mom? What does that even mean?”
Poppy patted Ashlyn’s legs over the covers. “It means, you can sit in this room where it seems safe, but that’s not what you’re meant to do. That’s not what life is about. You can choose to stay in places and situations where you’ll feel comfortable, but you’ll be missing out on so much.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you’re talking about something else?”
“Sweetie, I know you’re scared of change.” Ashlyn nodded in agreement. “But don’t sit in the harbor just because it’s what you know, what makes you feel comfortable. You might run into storms and rocky waters by venturing out, but it’s worth it. At the end of the day, if you’re not happy, and you go to bed in tears, then wake up the next morning and change it. You’re the only one who can make sure that you’re happy.”
A brilliant and beautiful picture began to emerge in Ashlyn’s head while her mother kept ranting about ships and happiness. She stared at the empty canvas on her easel, and the lines and colors started to paint themselves like something magical.
“Hey, thanks for that mom,” Ashlyn interrupted. “But can I stay home where it feels safe, just for today?”
Poppy rose and leaned over, kissing Ashlyn on her forehead. “Absolutely.”
Though she hadn’t slept well, and she felt exhausted, Ashlyn had an entire day and a great idea. Her last painting, now hidden in her closet, had been from a picture. This one would have to be entirely from the image in her head, and if she didn’t do it now, she was afraid everything that she saw might drift away.
With both her parents gone, and Carmen only cleaning on Fridays, it meant that the house was eerily quiet and perfect for concentration. It wasn’t until she looked at her silenced phone that she realized just how wrapped up in her creation she had become.
It was nearing lunchtime and she could feel that she had skipped breakfast. While she made herself a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she looked over all the texts she had ignored.
Emory: I don’t see your car. Where are you?
Kayla: Emory said you’re not here today. Are you okay?
June: We heard about what happened to your camera. I’m so sorry! I hope you’re feeling alright.
Emory: Seriously? Can you get back to someone? I’m going to text your mom!
Emory: Your mom said you’re home sick. We know that’s a lie. Please get back to me.
Tripp: I don’t see you at lunch with Emory. I guess you stayed home. How are you doing?
✽ ✽ ✽
“I can’t believe she isn’t texting any of us back,” Emory huffed. She stabbed at her plate of food.
“Don’t take it out on the pasta,” Ellis teased.
“Oh, shut up!”
“I didn’t see Eric today. What’s the deal there,” June asked. Emory had filled her and Kayla in on yesterday afternoon’s events.
“Suspended, three days,” Deacon added.
“He’s this close,” Emory began, holding her thumb and forefinger so they were almost touching. “To getting expelled. One more big mistake and he’s gone.”
Tripp looked at down at his phone halfway through lunch but saw no new messages.
Tripp: Emory and Ellis are about to kill each other over here.
He hoped that the message would at least make Ashlyn smile. When his phone vibrated on the table a second later, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing in anticipation.
Emory quickly shot him a glare. “Who is that?”
Tripp flipped the phone over. “Just my mom. Paranoid much?”
&nbs
p; “Ugh, sorry. You’d be the last person she’d talk to anyway,” Emory sighed.
Tripp tried not to smile, because this time, Emory was completely and totally wrong.
Ashlyn: You’re with them?
Tripp: Yes. Everyone misses you.
Ashlyn: Haha. I doubt it, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.
Tripp: I miss you.
Then there was silence.
“I just hope she’s in a good mood for Saturday,” June grumbled, catching Tripp’s attention.
“What’s Saturday,” he piped up.
The three girls gave each other incredulous looks, but then remembered that as comfortable as it seemed having Tripp around, he was still technically the new guy. There were several things they assumed he knew but didn’t.
“Ash’s birthday! Her parents are having a simple little thing at their house. We’re all invited,” Kayla squealed. “Weren’t you invited?”
Tripp felt left in the cold. Ashlyn had never told him about a birthday coming up. He knew she was sixteen while most everyone else was seventeen. It was easy to assume that she had a spring or summer birthday, but that was never a question he had asked.
Sensing Tripp’s hurt, “Don’t worry, Ashlyn doesn’t advertise it. Unlike some people who talk about it for a whole month.” Emory raised her brow in Ellis’ direction. “Also, her mother sent invites like a month ago. She wouldn’t have known to send you one.”
Tripp shrugged. “It’s no big deal.” But it was.
Emory continued to quietly poke around at her food, awkward silence now running through the table. A moment later she dropped her fork. “Oh my gosh! You can be my date!”
“What,” Ellis, Deacon, and Tripp shouted in unison.
Emory glared at her brother and his best friend, and flipped her hand about like she was shooing them away. “Not like a real date. I’m actually talking to a football player from Halshire.” Ellis groaned at the comment, but Emory paid him no attention. “Anyway, you could be like my plus one. I’ll tell Ash’s mom that I’m bringing a date.”
Something about the idea didn’t sit well with Tripp. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he hesitated. “If Ash would have wanted me to come, I’m sure she would have mentioned something.”
“Okay, can we all stop pretending like Tripp doesn’t have the biggest crush on Ash,” Emory sighed.
“Wait, what?!” Ellis appeared shocked. “What about Rachel?”
Tripp groaned. “What about her?”
“I thought…”
“No. That’s between you, Abby, and Rachel.” Tripp then remembered his conversation with Ashlyn the day prior. He needed to talk to Rachel and clarify a few things. He directed his words back to Emory. “Ash and I are just friends, that’s all,” he insisted.
Emory rolled her eyes. “Whatever! You’re going to come with me, right?”
“I’d rather–”
“It’ll be a nice surprise for her. I promise!”
“I’ll think about it,” Tripp finally said after seeing that it didn’t look like Emory would be letting up anytime soon.
“I’m sure if you just ask Ash if you can come,” Deacon began.
“No,” Kayla shouted. “That just looks pathetic.”
Tripp felt increasingly uncomfortable with the plotting that his friends were doing. The easiest thing to do would be to tell Ashlyn that he had heard about her birthday and let it go from there. After all, they were friends. Wouldn’t she at least invite him?
Tripp: Emory can’t stop talking about your birthday.
Ashlyn: Ugh. I’d text her and tell her to shut up, but I’m kind of avoiding opening the door for communication.
Tripp: You’re texting me though.
Ashlyn: You also haven’t given me a hard time about yesterday. Don’t mess it up.
Tripp: I’m here if you want to talk. I also have my own opinion if you want it. But at the end of the day, it’s your life.
Ashlyn: Thank you.
She never mentioned another word about her birthday party, and neither did Tripp. A sick part of him liked Emory’s idea. While he knew Ashlyn would be shocked and probably hate the both of them for just a little while, he also had the perfect idea for a gift. He had already thought about buying it just because, but now he definitely had an excuse; all he needed was his dad’s permission, or rather, his credit card.
That was one thing that would have to wait. What couldn’t wait was Rachel.
“Hey,” Tripp said, announcing himself just as Rachel rose from the table to head to class.
Rachel gasped with surprise. “Tripp! Hi! How are you? We missed you and Ellis today.” Thinking quickly, she added, “And Deacon.”
“Yeah…Umm, I need to talk to you.”
“Right now? Lunch is over,” Rachel whined.
“On the way to class is fine,” he said with a shrug.
“So,” Rachel began, just as they walked out of the cafeteria. “You’re walking me to class?”
Crap. Tripp hadn’t thought much of the act when he suggested it. Now he understood what it must look like to someone like Rachel, someone who already thought they had been on dates.
“I’m walking in the same direction as you so that I can address something,” Tripp clarified.
“Wow, so formal,” Rachel giggled. She playfully nudged her shoulder into Tripp.
He tensed. He didn’t want to be mean to her, but he had to set the record straight, before she got any more ideas about what they were or weren’t.
“Yeah, umm–”
Rachel stopped in front of him, a smile so big it had to hurt. “You are so cute! If you’re officially asking me out, the answer is yes!”
Tripp could feel his face scrunching up and a headache coming on. He had barely said a handful of words to her and that’s what she thought. This was going to be a lot harder than he imagined in his head.
“Actually, Rachel, the opposite.”
Her smiled faded and she blinked at him rapidly. She couldn’t be hearing him right. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“You’re a nice girl and all,” he started, already knowing he sounded like some poorly written character in a movie. “I’m just not interested in you like that.”
“What about our dinners? And sitting with me at lunch?”
Tripp uncomfortably ran his fingers through his hair. There had been girls that he went on a date or two with, but generally he never got seriously involved with them. It was pointless. He never knew when his dad would be transferred to another country. It wasn’t fair to lead a girl on like that. Needless to say, the one time he did break up with a girl, it was because he was moving.
This was something out of left field for him. Breaking up with a girl he never dated.
“Those dinners, those two dinners,” he felt the need to clarify. “Were with a group of friends. They weren’t dates. Also, I sat with you and your friends at lunch at Ellis’ request, which was probably at Abby’s request, because you–”
Rachel stomped her foot, actually stomped her foot. “Wow! I cannot believe you right now!”
Tripp’s jaw dropped. Was she being serious?
“After all that, and now you’re walking me to class, you’re going to act like we’re not kind of together in a sense?”
“We’re not together. I don’t even have your phone number,” Tripp pointed out, instantly regretting it.
“Is that it? You need my number? Here, give me your phone and–”
“I don’t want your number.” Tripp took a step back, disliking the little bit of attention they were getting in the busy hallway. “There’s someone else,” Tripp blurted out.
“You’re seeing someone else, but asking me for my number? What is wrong with you?!”
“No. I’m not seeing someone else. I just don’t want anyone to be under the impression that we’re together.” He could not believe how exhausting she was.
“You, Tripp Scott, are a freaking jerk
,” Rachel screamed at the top of her lungs.
Her outburst drew a great deal of attention. Normally Tripp didn’t mind the attention, but right now he wanted to crawl in a hole. If he had known that to begin with, there wasn’t a chance in hell he would have ever accepted Ellis’ invite.
From now on, he’d sit with the guys from the team. Some of them could be a bit strange, but none of them were as crazy as Rachel.
Chapter 18
Ronan laughed at his son’s request. “You want how much?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s really important though,” Tripp pled.
Tripp’s father pushed his computer aside and motioned to the spare chair inside his home office. “Have a seat.”
Tripp groaned, but gave in to his father’s request.
“I know you really like this girl,” Ronan began, really wishing that Tripp had gone to his mother and asked her for help buying a gift. No doubt she probably would have given in, but at least then he wouldn’t have known how much was spent. “You can’t buy someone’s love.”
“Dad, please, stop.” Tripp shook his head. He hadn’t seen his dad look so awkward in quite some time. “I’m not stupid. I know that. I know that’s what it looks like, but it’s not. It’s her birthday and this is something she’d love.”
“What if next week she decides she wants nothing to do with you anymore?”
Tripp didn’t want to get into the details of his friendship with Ashlyn. While his dad’s comment made him sad to ever think of that being a possibility, he knew if he made one wrong move with her at the moment, it could very much be a reality. Instead of saying all that, he went with, “Then that’s up to her and what she wants. I’m not doing this for any reason other than wanting her to have a nice gift for her birthday.”
“You said her mom’s a therapist and her dad’s a lawyer. Couldn’t they buy it?”
Tripp hated how when it came to their family, his dad splurged; however, when it came to doing nice things for others, not so much. “It’s not that she’s poor and can’t afford it. That’s not the point. This needs to come from me.”
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