April 12, 2005, 1030 AM, the apartment of Richie Ryan
With the spoken consent of Duncan's permission, Richie took Asher home, for she could calm down. In the car ride home, she said nothing, not even when Richie flipped the radio to a country station, he knew she hated. If he had had any doubts before, about her being in shock, he had none now.
"Want something to drink?" asked Richie, once he had closed the apartment door behind them. Asher shook her head, and mutely fell into the couch, and curled her arms around her bent knees. "Some food, then? Anything?"
Asher shook her head again and barely noticed when Richie sat next to her, and gently pushed some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Ash."
With that word, her head jerked up. "You called me Ash."
"Did I? I didn't-"
Asher leaped from the couch, and paced the room. "You never call me Ash. Never call me Ash. Never call me Ash."
"Asher, please, calm thoughts," but she neither heard him nor acknowledged him, and helpless Richie watched. "How do you know Sam Clarke?"
Again, Asher was jerked from her private thoughts, and started into Richie. He had the feeling she strared through him, and it unnerved him. "What?"
"How did you meet Sam Clarke? You had mentioned before he was an ex- boyfriend."
"Yes, yes, he was."
"Did you love him?"
A small smile played on Asher's lips, and she took a seat next to the white-faced Richie Ryan, and took his hands into hers. "I thought I did, but I know now, I did not."
"How did you meet him then?"
"He was an intern in my mother's law firm. He was also my lawyer."
Richie looked shell-shocked. "Yo -your lawyer?"
"I never quite settled into living in the states again. We moved back there a few weeks before I was due to start high school. I got involved with the wrong crowd. Smoke, drank, cut classes. On occasion, I would smoke marijuana, or do some acid, when my friends could find it for me. My parents kept hoping I would change on my own, but when I didn't, they sent me to a private boarding school in western Massachusetts. We lived in Westchester County, New York."
"Let me guess. You hated the boarding school?"
"At first, yes. But slowly, I changed my opinion. I quit smoking, and I quit drinking. I stopped doing the harder drugs, and I even went to class. It was there, I learned to love music, and first learned to play the guitar. I chose to stay there for the summer. Took some classes -to catch up with the classes I had missed due to my previous state -and worked some. I taught computers to kids. A few weeks into the fall semester, a girl was found dead. My fingerprints were found on the gun."
"Asher."
"I was threatened with expulsion from the headmaster, and threatened with jail from the girl's parents. They took me to court. I wanted my mother to represent me, but for obvious reasons, she could not, so she sent her partner, and her new intern, Sam Clarke."
"So, what happened?"
"I was found not-guilty, and returned to Westchester County public high school come the spring. Still managed to graduate on time, and left for college the following autumn. Sam and I started to date not long after the trial ended. He was nine years older than I was. I was fifteen when we met."
"Did he love you?"
Asher shrugged. "Maybe. We broke-up the night before my mom and I were due to fly west. After the crash, I never contacted, him or anyone else. You know what happened then."
"Yeah, I do." Richie paused. "It is always strange when your pre- Immortal like walks through the door. Feel better?"
"Some," and Asher looked to hers and Richie's hands, still clasped together.
"Do we need to go back yet?"
"Not yet, no."
"Mind going up to the roof then? I should practice."
"Practice what?"
Asher took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Swallowing the lump and her fear, she followed with another inhale and exhale. "Sword fighting."
Richie gaped, unsure if he had heard right. In the seven months he had known and loved Asher, she had not once used nor picked up a sword. "You want to sword fight?"
Asher nodded, and with a quick kiss on lips, Richie pulled her up, and with two swords found and in hand, he lead her to the roof.
With the spoken consent of Duncan's permission, Richie took Asher home, for she could calm down. In the car ride home, she said nothing, not even when Richie flipped the radio to a country station, he knew she hated. If he had had any doubts before, about her being in shock, he had none now.
"Want something to drink?" asked Richie, once he had closed the apartment door behind them. Asher shook her head, and mutely fell into the couch, and curled her arms around her bent knees. "Some food, then? Anything?"
Asher shook her head again and barely noticed when Richie sat next to her, and gently pushed some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Ash."
With that word, her head jerked up. "You called me Ash."
"Did I? I didn't-"
Asher leaped from the couch, and paced the room. "You never call me Ash. Never call me Ash. Never call me Ash."
"Asher, please, calm thoughts," but she neither heard him nor acknowledged him, and helpless Richie watched. "How do you know Sam Clarke?"
Again, Asher was jerked from her private thoughts, and started into Richie. He had the feeling she strared through him, and it unnerved him. "What?"
"How did you meet Sam Clarke? You had mentioned before he was an ex- boyfriend."
"Yes, yes, he was."
"Did you love him?"
A small smile played on Asher's lips, and she took a seat next to the white-faced Richie Ryan, and took his hands into hers. "I thought I did, but I know now, I did not."
"How did you meet him then?"
"He was an intern in my mother's law firm. He was also my lawyer."
Richie looked shell-shocked. "Yo -your lawyer?"
"I never quite settled into living in the states again. We moved back there a few weeks before I was due to start high school. I got involved with the wrong crowd. Smoke, drank, cut classes. On occasion, I would smoke marijuana, or do some acid, when my friends could find it for me. My parents kept hoping I would change on my own, but when I didn't, they sent me to a private boarding school in western Massachusetts. We lived in Westchester County, New York."
"Let me guess. You hated the boarding school?"
"At first, yes. But slowly, I changed my opinion. I quit smoking, and I quit drinking. I stopped doing the harder drugs, and I even went to class. It was there, I learned to love music, and first learned to play the guitar. I chose to stay there for the summer. Took some classes -to catch up with the classes I had missed due to my previous state -and worked some. I taught computers to kids. A few weeks into the fall semester, a girl was found dead. My fingerprints were found on the gun."
"Asher."
"I was threatened with expulsion from the headmaster, and threatened with jail from the girl's parents. They took me to court. I wanted my mother to represent me, but for obvious reasons, she could not, so she sent her partner, and her new intern, Sam Clarke."
"So, what happened?"
"I was found not-guilty, and returned to Westchester County public high school come the spring. Still managed to graduate on time, and left for college the following autumn. Sam and I started to date not long after the trial ended. He was nine years older than I was. I was fifteen when we met."
"Did he love you?"
Asher shrugged. "Maybe. We broke-up the night before my mom and I were due to fly west. After the crash, I never contacted, him or anyone else. You know what happened then."
"Yeah, I do." Richie paused. "It is always strange when your pre- Immortal like walks through the door. Feel better?"
"Some," and Asher looked to hers and Richie's hands, still clasped together.
"Do we need to go back yet?"
"Not yet, no."
"Mind going up to the roof then? I should practice."
"Practice what?"
Asher took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Swallowing the lump and her fear, she followed with another inhale and exhale. "Sword fighting."
Richie gaped, unsure if he had heard right. In the seven months he had known and loved Asher, she had not once used nor picked up a sword. "You want to sword fight?"
Asher nodded, and with a quick kiss on lips, Richie pulled her up, and with two swords found and in hand, he lead her to the roof.