fuel | cause to burn more intensely

• • •

2/8/17

I WALK INTO school behind the shadow of my best friend. Praise and accolades fly her way as eyes continue to pass over me. Their casual glances and constant ignoring of my presence doesn't bother me as I am only focused on one thing. One person. The same person that has caused guilt to drill it's way inside of me, and find a permanent residence deep in my bones.

I haven't seen Asher since the night of Brooklyn's gig. The last few days of school he has been nowhere to be found. I don't know if he's just simply skipping school, or if he's avoiding me.

A part of me knows he doesn't care enough to be avoiding me, but then a small part of my heart begins to nag and has me wondering if it's true. If I could be the reason behind his mysterious absence. If I could disrupt his kingdom just enough to have him rethinking everything. Just like he's blazed through my life in the span of what feels like seconds and turned everything upside down.

I should be thankful that I haven't seen him since that night, thankful for the small reprieve of his presence. A presence that has seared my soul, and makes me question everything about myself and my best friend.

Francesca leads us to her group of friends by the same lockers we stand by every day. But today is slightly different. Because as soon as we approach the group my eyes lock on Asher's tall frame that towers over everyone around him, but me. Even in my flats I'm taller than most girls, even some boys at this age. When I stand straight I am eye level at Asher's lips, a dangerous and absolutely beautiful height to be I've suddenly realized. My eyes leisurely take in his lean build that I'm all too aware of how it feels pressed up against my own body.

I can't stop the small flutter of excitement that ripples through my stomach at the sight of him. I don't want to care let alone be eager. But the sight of his handsome face and signature smirk has me wanting everything I told myself I didn't need. I didn't want.

But that would be a lie, a voice whispers in the back of my head making the guilt flow through me a bit harder.

I straighten my shoulders and a few people glance my way. It's then I realize that I'm not standing outside the circle like I usually do, I'm not hunching over in attempts to make myself shorter or invisible. I'm standing tall. I'm acting like I'm one of them when everyone knows I'm not. A rush of insecurity hits me so hard a shaky breath escapes my lips and my eyes fall to the tiled hallway. I awkwardly take a side step so a cheerleader can have a better angle on the group and let myself hide behind my best friend. Because that's what I do, that's who I am.

I try to not focus on Asher as I take my rightful place behind Francesca. He's been engaged in a conversation with our star quarterback this whole time and hasn't noticed our arrival, maybe the only person who didn't notice my best friend the second she arrived. His entire focus on his friend gives me a few moments to easily watch him, to freely take him in, because I can't look anywhere else. I can't concentrate on anything or anyone else. That's when I realize he's more like a blazing fire then I even know, because he's burning everything down in my path. And even when I want to look away because the heat is too much to handle, he's all I can see, all I can feel in this world.

My eyes flicker up to his dark ones and that's when I realize he's noticed me. He noticed me before he noticed my best friend, and I hate the way a thrill races through my spine at the thought no matter how off base it may be. He holds my gaze for a single second, a second of swirling darkness, before releasing me.

He immediately turns his attention on Francesca from across the circle, which my best friend promptly lights up about. She's elated that he's paying her attention, but as I watch them openly flirt I feel my chest contract with a full ache.

I look away from the two not wanting to stare anymore, not wanting to care either. He's always been hers, he might not know it but it's true.

Their families want them together. Francesca has had a crush on him for years; they're made from the same cloth. They are a pre-written love story, so what does that make me? Mine and Asher's kiss?

It makes me a blimp in a story that's meant to be.

A part of me falls into myself realizing how much I don't want to care about this, but do at the end of the day. How much a part of me expected nothing, but everything after the kiss we shared. How completely and utterly wrong I am about everything, especially Asher Lawton.

My eyes betray me and look up to see Asher one last time. Francesca has now wiggled her way over to him and their standing side by side, a bright smile painting her lips as he watches her intently. His eyes break away from her to cast me a single glance. His dark eyes raking over my simple outfit, and immediately dismissing me and everything I know. Because compared to my best friend, I am nothing, and he can obviously see that now.

Doesn't matter that he slept in my bed. Doesn't matter that I let him touch and kiss me. Doesn't even matter that he made me feel like I was more important then I even know only to have it thrown in my face that in his kingdom, I am nothing.

* * * * *

"Want to be partners?" Brooklyn's deep voice calls out next to me pulling me out my thoughts. I turn to face him as a relieved smile pulls at my lips, and my shoulders sink as a comfortable warmth fills me at his company.

"Yes, of course," I tell him as he slides onto the stool beside me in a color blocked hoodie and faded jeans. "Thank you," I add quietly.

"For what?" he questions, confused by my gratitude.

Pieces of my mousy hair fall in my face as I dip my head in embarrassment. "No one would've offered, and I would've had to be partners with the teacher again," I say self-consciously as I recall what happened last semester in this class when we had to find partners.

This is one of the few classes I don't have with Francesca, meaning I don't have her friendship as a safety net. I don't have her to turn to when everyone else turns away from me. So when Brooklyn instantly offered to be my partner my heart swelled with appreciation for this warm-hearted boy.

"Well I'm only doing it for selfish reasons of course," he starts. "I know you're the smartest here meaning I'll get an A," he teases knocking his shoulder against mine causing a breathy chuckle to fall from my lips. "And anyone who doesn't want to be partners with you is stupid Mae," he assures me and I can't help the way my face brightens as his words. Or even in his presence. He always makes me feel safe and never judged, never less.

"So how was the rest of your show?" I ask honestly wanting to know. But at the same time I felt uncomfortable asking since I was the one who left his gig before it was over. I left for a reason I now know doesn't matter, and won't matter for the rest of the school year.

Brooklyn shrugs. His big brown eyes drop to the table in front of us, almost like he doesn't want to hold my gaze. His long fingers aimlessly gather the sheets of paper in front of us describing the project as if he's trying to distract himself. From me, from my question.

"Good," he states simply.

"I really wish I could've stayed to see the whole thing," I tell him wholeheartedly. "Franny went on and on about how amazing you all were, though of course I already knew that," I smile sadly as remorse strikes me hating how I wasn't there for my friend.

"Yeah," he trails his gaze still locked on the papers in front of him. "I didn't know you and Asher were friends?" he questions out of nowhere as his big brown eyes finally meet mine. Eyes so expressive that I can see all the questions he wants to ask, questions I don't want to answer or face.

"We aren't," I stumble out uneasily not wanting to say anything. Because us talking, us shopping, us sharing a few stupid kisses means nothing I realize. Nothing at all.

"I saw you leave with him," he points out, and I can tell he's trying to figure me out. Figure out what went down that night, and see if me leaving with someone like Asher Lawton makes sense. Because it doesn't, someone like me isn't meant to be with someone like him, and even Brooklyn can see that.

I bite at the inside of my cheek as I lift my shoulder in a single shrug. "I didn't feel well and he was leaving and offered me a ride," I casually lie. Though what happened that night was far from causal, and I hate how I can still feel the pressure of his hot lips against me. Against my lips, my neck, and my shoulder.

"Wow, I thought he was a complete ass," he laughs dryly as if he doesn't actually think any different. Most don't, because Asher isn't a good person. But he fooled me and made me think he was. Made me think that around me he truly saw me.

"He is," I start slowly, "but not always," I finish not able to completely bash him. Not able to completely hate him because the fire he started deep within me is a hard feeling to get rid of let alone come to disdain.

"Hmm," Brooklyn breathes with pursed lips not quite believing me.

I decide to change the subject. "But that first song was amazing, and it wasn't a cover Brooks..." I trail as a knowing grin lifts the corner of my lips.

"Yeah, it was mine," he admits as his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

"I knew it!" I whisper excitingly at him. "You have such a distinctive voice and it shines," I tell him as I place an innocent hand on his shoulder.

He lifts his head letting the embarrassment that once coated him fall, and let's his chocolate eyes flicker to my hand before they meet mine. His eyes rake over my face as if he wants to say something or maybe even ask me something. But he merely settles on, "Thanks Mae."

Then without another word we start on the project and don't speak of Asher or that night again.

* * * * *

Francesca is in a deep conversation with some cheerleader next to her, so I tune most of it out knowing it has nothing to do with me. We walk towards our last class of the day, the school day passing by surprisingly quickly.

"So are you going?" I hear but continue to face forward as we weave through the crowded halls of the school.

"Mae," Francesca's voice snaps me out of my stupor and I turn to face her. Her dark hair framing her gorgeous face, and her bright eyes watching me inquisitively.

"What?" I question with narrowed eyes, as I haven't been paying attention.

"You better be coming to the party this weekend," she tells me seriously with a single raised brow, though a teasing smirk lies on her lips. "You promised," she reminds me of our agreement at the coffee shop. She came to the show with me, although I didn't even stay for the whole thing and once again shame bites at the back of my neck making me flush.

"Yeah, of course I'll be there," I agree, not fighting it. I did agree to go with her, but watching her flirt with Asher isn't something I want to be a part of, but she's my best friend. And my issue with him is exactly that, my issue. Not something to ruin my best friend's time. I'm not someone who is usually this naïve. I know who Asher is and yet the night he kissed me changed everything in my head, and made me see the world differently. Made me see him differently, even though I knew the truth deep down.

"Good, because it's going to be a big one," she says flipping some hair off her shoulder seamlessly as if she was born with the grace that was somehow left out of my DNA.

I nod along as she begins to talk up the party to the cheerleader next to her once again. Apparently Asher told her all about the huge rager he's planning, as she easily alludes to a relationship with the man who not even a week ago was laying in bed with me.

I push away the feelings that want to overwhelm me with a sigh. Asher is a selfish asshole, and I knew he only cared about the games he played among the girls in this town. And I was one of them, nothing I can do to change that, but I know I won't make that mistake again.

"Maeleigh Winter report to the main office," a monotone voice cracks over the speakers in the hallway.

"Oh," I state as I clumsily stop walking puzzled as to why I'm being called to the office. "I'll meet you in class I guess," I tell Francesca as she and her friend near the classroom.

My best friend tosses me a wave. "Save you a seat," she promises me before entering the classroom.

I turn on my heel and attempt to make my way to the front of the school, which holds the main office. But going against the grain of students proves to be a bit harder when people don't seem to care if they run into me or their backpack slams into my sides.

Finally the warning bell rings and the hallways clear out making it easier for me to find my way to the office.

"Um...I'm Maeleigh," I say as I approach the middle-aged lady at the desk typing away at her computer. Confusion still laces through me wondering why I'm being called to the office. Then a bit of fear follows suddenly wondering if my mom's okay, if someone I know is hurt.

"Here," she says, thrusting a large rectangular box. It's slim and rather light.

"What?" I question baffled as to why I'm being handed a wrapped present with a rather large bow tapped to the top. "Who is this from?" I ask the lady with scrunched eyebrows.

"Open it up," she tells me with a wave. "We've all been wondering who got the gift," she says with a chuckle.

I pull the top of the box off and a small gasp falls from my parted lips in surprise. The open box reveals a dozen pink glazed sprinkled donuts. My absolute favorites, and from my absolute favorite place.

"Donuts," the lady calls out to the rest of the office to tell them of my gift.

"Yeah," I breathe shocked someone sent me these. But a bolt of happiness reverberates through me at my favorite treat, my absolute weakness in this life. "But from who?" I reiterate the question but more to myself as I pluck the card from the top of the box.

To Maeleigh,

You may have tasted the dark side, but you will always be good. Remember that.

A

The note is scrawled out messily, but that doesn't stop my heart from skipping a beat. Doesn't stop me from forgetting how worthless he made me feel today. Doesn't stop me from forgetting every reason I shouldn't want him. He remembered something so small, so insignificant about me that my heart can't stop but try and leap from my chest at the thoughtful gift.

I go to grab the lid to the box when someone's familiar form walks by the glass walls that make up the front office. My eyes immediately lock on Asher's dark ones as he strolls by as if he didn't just give me a gift that made my whole heart beat for him. So simple, yet it means everything.

Once again the side of him who's an actual human, a gentleman, shines and makes me forget all the bad that comes along with a boy like Asher.

"Thank you," I mouth the words to the enigma of a man who has single handedly turned me inside out.

He simply winks and disappears around the corner, and so does every thought I have about leaving him alone and forgetting all about him. All of it flies from my body and all I can focus on is one thing.

When can I kiss him again?