Synopsis: Sometimes decisions are to do nothing. To go nowhere. To be with no one. And sometimes fate intervenes and decides that's the wrong decision.
Genre: Friendship, Romance, Humour
Ending: Pre-Game
Rating: K+
A/N: If I'd had enough stamina to continue this chapter, I would have. Instead, the second part to this story will have to wait until next time!
The Library
The Day We Didn't Meet
It's not as if she's a damsel in distress, stuck in a tower, waving a white flag of surrender out of her window. Then why is she waiting on a prince charming?
Ashley huffs, hooking her chin into her upturned hand, eyes ticking along to the hands of the clock – the one hanging high, attached by a hinge to the wall. The library is disastrously, desolately empty. And Ashley has been stupidly hoping that, through the vacant open door, any minute now, Chris will stroll. Which, by all statistics, is a terrible, inaccurate assumption to make. And Ashley should be ashamed of herself.
Because he hadn't responded to her text last night. Even when she'd abandoned her cellphone on her desk chair to run down and clean up that night's dishes – giving him a full twenty minutes – he still hadn't replied. When she'd returned, the screen of her phone had been vacant of any alerts. Black as death and grim as her disappointment.
He had seen her message. Seen but not heard.
She sighs, drooping her chin even further.
The conclusion, therefore, to make from such an incident is that Chris is infallibly, inflexibly uninterested in her. Which makes her next assertion all the more devastating. Because Ashley is infallibly, inflexibly, infuriatingly interested in him.
She groans, rolling her eyes as she rocks her head against the table with a clonk.
"Oh Em Gee," a voice squeals through the library's halls. Ashley snaps her head back up, her eyes rocking in their sockets. She fights herself to plaster a 'I'm totally okay, how can I help you?' smile on her face. It's always good practice to look presentable. Currently, she is the only workable employee on the premises. The last time she saw the librarian, she had gone out to have a cigarette. That was two hours ago.
The voices whisper through the creaks and cracks of the library halls. They whistle like winds.
"Did you hear?"
Ashley catches a glimpse of two shadows ducking behind a pillar of books. A dusty sigh escapes her lips as the realisation sinks in like bending, creaking bones. Ah, here they go again. The Library. The place where gossip comes and hides in between cracks on the shelves.
Despite the complete resourcefulness of this wonderful creature the world calls a library, students still only wander in here for one of two things; gossip or make out sessions.
And Ashley has had the pleasure of experiencing both of those things in the duration she's been volunteering here. Though not first hand. Definitely not first hand.
Her cheeks ferociously flush at the thought.
"Hear what?" another voice drawls, lower and calmer and definitely not as hysterical. He sounds distracted, like he's pioneering between the shelves, and the other voice is just clinging onto him. Wait. Ashley recognises the voice. Her ear cocks to the side. She recognises them both.
Pit-pattering with her feet, Ashley creaks her way up from her chair in the midst of the library, creeping around the corners of the shelves, listening out for the voices.
"The Washington's are hosting a party," the female squeals. Ashley hisses, the voice rattling inside her ears, "tonight!"
There's a dusty pause and, for a breathy, relieved moment, Ashley is thankful to hear that her ears aren't ringing.
The male audibly shrugs; "So?" He sounds close, like he's just behind her. Her spine prickles, her breath hitching as she carefully paces down the carpeted floor. Fleetingly, she lets her eyes travel along the spines of the books – an ingenious cover if she does say so herself.
He huffs, his breath sounding puffy, close and distracted. Like he actually came inside the library for a purpose other than to make out. Or gossip.
Okay. Ashley smiles faintly, something flickering in her alight eyes. Her fingers travel along the spine of a particularly dusty book, feeling the ridges of the old cover. Her mind is fleetingly distracted. Maybe this guy isn't so bad.
"So?" the female scoffs loudly, a sharp mocking sound. The sound of her voice pierces Ashley's ears. Ouch. She half expects to reach a hand up and feel blood trickling out of her ear. "Have you seen their house?"
Her voice travels like an ancient, dusty monster devouring the air. It echoes and bounces. And it's a particularly nippy monster.
The male just hums, uninterested. Something scrapes against the shelf in front of Ashley and she realises he's pulled off a book, bouncing it in his hands. She ducks – just in case he manages to see through the cracks and spot her.
"Are you even listening?" the preppy girl coughs.
The male ignores her, his padding steps creaking.
Ashley's eyes widen. He's going to sign out the book.
He's heading for the front desk.
Instantly, she dives down the isle, skidding across the floor in a tumble and secures herself behind the desk.
Just as Matt – and his female companion – stride out of their own personal isle.
Her chest heaves from catching her breath. And Matt lifts his dark eyes, catching Ashley's. He looks at her curiously before smiling gently. She was right. She did recognise him.
He's in her year. One of the football players. Untouchable. Yet, in the mess of school corridors, she has caught him occasionally sending a friendly smile over to her. Which has, in turn, pushed her down the outcast spectrum – just slightly.
Ashley isn't lucky enough to get away with just recognising Matt too.
She knows the girl too.
Jessica. A cheerleader. Complete with bouncing, blonde curls and exaggerated, wide eyes.
Unlike Matt, Jessica barely even knows Ashley exists.
"Look, all I wanted to ask," Jess huffs, hand securely planted on her hip. She fleetingly passes Ashley an uninterested look before returning to Matt, "Is if you wanted to be my plus one."
Matt's eyebrows cross as he measly pushes past her, book in hand, striding towards Ashley's counter. It's just that action that pushes Ashley to stand up straighter and push her smile up further.
Then Jess tugs his attention away again, disastrously rambling; "Em's gonna be going with Mike and Sam will probably tag along with Josh." The last two names strike a familiar bell inside Ashley's ears. Wait. Isn't Sam the name of the girl who had taken Chris away? And hadn't she mentioned a Josh? Despite her training, Ashley's obvious Sherlock Holmes ancestry, she is curiously and vigorously listening. "And who as hell knows who Chris is going with."
Not me.
It's a fleeting though but it still saddens her. She would have liked to have been his plus one.
Not that she ever parties.
"The point is," Jess finally concludes to a barely listening Matt who has been staring, bored, at his book cover all this time. Like he's waiting for this to be over, for Jess to start time again, so he can sign out the book already, "that I can't just go with anyone."
Matt heaves out a breath. "And I'm the easiest meat head you could get your hands on," he finishes off, musing as if he's not even offended by the statement. Jess visibly splutters in response, blonde plaits swaying, but Matt shrugs nonchalantly, "Sure. Whatever, Jess."
Her eyes widen. "Really?" She practically jumps up and down on her tiptoes. "You better not be late!"
A sigh weaves from his lips and Ashley catches him rolling his eyes. She chuckles under her breath. "I'll pick you up at seven with a limousine and a bunch of flowers," he drawls, eyes still caught on the dusty book cover he's holding.
With beaming cheeks, Jess silently squeals, flicking hair over her shoulder, and bounds out of the library.
"She does realise you're being sarcastic, right?" the question pops out of Ashley's lips. She blinks, surprised at the sound herself. Her cheeks flair. She wants to recoil.
Matt's head bobs up, dark eyes connecting with hers. He lifts a single eyebrow, face dead-pan. "Am I?"
She smiles despite herself.
"Because if you're not, I'm going to be seriously worried about her expectations of men later on in life." The sentence rolls out of her mouth and she's suddenly wondering where she got these confidence super powers from. Had she been bitten by a cheerleader? When did she ever talk to jocks like Matt?
Instead of recoiling, Matt just simply grins, eyes glowing. He looks curiously at her. And oddly, despite the label of popularity clinging to his clothes, she doesn't feel so out of place with him. He feels almost like a piece of the furniture here. Comfortable. Reliable.
Like someone who would always text back.
"Ashley, right?" he finally asks, knitting his eyebrows slightly. He cocks his head, like his thoughts are too heavy for him to hold. "You're in my Physics class."
Ashley's cheeks burn and she curses herself for smiling so much. "Yeah," her voice petters out of her mouth. Then she adds; "And History. And English."
He lets out a short laugh. "Right," he ponders with a smile, flipping the book aimlessly in his hands. He watches her like he's trying to figure her out and, for once, Ashley is glad for the security of the library's desk.
By now, he's closed the distance between them and has placed the book on the desk.
"Oh, right," Ashley fumbles, remembering that she has actually has a job to do. With a cringe, she picks up the book, scanning it and stamping the library card, before sliding the book over to him.
He smiles in response. But instead of saying thanks, he looks at her questioningly. Then; "Hey, are you coming tonight?" he finally asks like something has sparked inside of him.
A loud snort escapes Ashley's nose. She instantly grimaces. "No," she inhales, face reddening in embarrassment. Which makes Matt smile wider.
"You should," he nods, casually picking the book up and flipping it from hand to hand. Ashley almost laughs when she finally sees the title of the book. If she had been remotely romanticising this man, she definitely isn't now. Not when he's just signed out a book called the beginner's guide to sheep herding.
"Don't you have to be," she starts, feeling the confidence rise in her and tasting the unusual words in her mouth, "invited to these things?"
Matt just grins. "I'm inviting you," he shrugs simply.
Which only makes Ashley let out a chortle. "But you're already a plus one."
"Well, " he starts to argue, seriousness crossing his brow. The fact he's taking such an argument seriously makes Ashley laugh. "You can be a plus one of a plus one," he finally states, evidently proud of his opening statement.
"That makes no logical sense," she retorts, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "If every plus one could have a plus one, when would it stop? And wouldn't a plus one of a plus one be a plus two? And-"
"I'll pick you up at seven," Matt says, cutting her off with an easy smile and strolling his way towards the door, book tucked in his hand.
And before she can even think about her, a smile rises on her lips and her voice finishes off the line; "With a limousine and a bunch of flowers."
"Since when are you holding a party?" Chris rolls his eyes at his pleased best friend. Josh just looks smug as he leans against the corridor wall, knocking his head against the plaster.
The Washington had been easily strolling down the hallway, Chris at his side, and had been, as usually, ogling all the passing girls. Then, as Chris had tugged up his backpack strap, eyes distracted by poster events, Josh had yelled out a name; "Hey! Jess!"
Chris had snapped his eyes forward only to see a cheerleader-clad Jessica pattering along the corridor towards them.
Her head had rotated like it was on a mechanical wheel.
"Party at my house tonight!" Josh grins. Multiple heads had turned at that. "You coming?"
Just like that, a switch had been turned in her head and her eyes were suddenly huge and alight. Then her wide, huge eyes had sparked with light and she smiled wildly.
"You bet!" She squeaked out between giggles. And, without even checking times or confirming the location – something Chris definitely would have done. Maybe – had immediately scurried off, her new plans reeling over and over in her head.
Josh chews on some gum that he has magicked up from somewhere. "Since now," he grins, flipping a foil covered strip of gum in his fingers, offering it to Chris. Chris shakes his head.
"Something you need to learn, my dear friend," he slaps Chris on the shoulder, "is if you want news to spread, tell a cheerleader." He grins lazily. Chris sighs, knocking the back of his head against the wall. Typical Josh. "Now," he pops his gum with a clack, shrugging lazily, "I don't have to bother with invitations. Jess will do the work for me."
"Hah," is Chris' response. He grins. Then wonders if, maybe, Ashley will hear about it too.
He hopes so.
Then again, she seems like the girl who'd rather hide herself away in a book than in the corners of a party.
Wait.
"I take it I'm invited?" he lets the question fall from his lips, his eyebrows raising cheekily as he glances at his best friend.
Josh smiles slowly, something sneaky hiding in his eyes. Which makes Chris rather uncomfortable. And nervous.
What now?
Josh smirks; "You're welcome to take someone with you."