flash | cause to shine briefly or suddenly

• • •

1/16/17

THE SOUND OF the passenger door slamming shut echoes from behind me.

I turn to see Francesca round the car from the driver's side to meet me. My best friend usually drives me in the mornings to school. Sometimes I walk or take the bus, but Francesca is there for me the majority of the time. In every way she is my best friend, and my sister. A part of me wishes I had my own car so I wouldn't be so dependent on other people, but my mother lets me borrow her car most nights when I need to get around.

Side by side we make our way up the front steps of Easton High School. The town is small enough to only have one high school for everyone.

As soon as we walk through the large open doors and enter through the threshold of Easton High all eyes are on us, or rather my best friend.

"Hi Franny!"

"Looking good Franny!"

"Morning Franny!"

"Franny, we have third period together!"

Voices shout from either side of the hallways filling the narrow locker lined halls with excited calls from our fellow classmates.

Boys letting their lips catcall and their eyes roam Francesca's body as if they've never seen a girl before. And maybe they haven't, at least like her. She is the embodiment of sex on a stick, and every guy would kill to have a chance to even speak to her let alone actually be with her.

Girls attempt to compliment their way into Francesca's good graces while their eyes take in my best friend with pure green-eyed envy. Like they wish they could be her, have her grades, her popularity, her looks, her life. Her everything.

As we continue to make our way down the hall no one even notices me. Maybe some do, but they pretend they don't. That I don't exist. That I haven't gone to school with them for years. Because I don't have money like most people here, because I'm tall and lanky with a flat as a board chest, because I'm boring. I am no Francesca and never will be. I was born to blend in, and that's what I'm doing. But if I'm sinking into the background I might as well have an amazing friend who is the forefront of everything.

We take a few steps to a small set of lockers on the left side of the hallway. That's where the popular crowd hangs out before classes begin in the mornings. Their Francesca's friends not mine, she grew up with them, and I didn't. Francesca and I met during our seventh grade year when we were paired up for an assignment about monarch butterflies. We went searching for them for hours, and quickly and surprisingly realized we actually had common interests.

I follow Francesca, like I always do, as we make our way to the group. Everyone erupts in enthusiastic "hellos" when she walks up. She then gives a few of her friends' quick hugs and kind smiles. They all love her, and who wouldn't? She's a wonderful friend who gives everyone she loves her whole heart freely and openly.

There's always a solid group of six to eight people in the group, with a couple floaters here and there. The guys, all athletes, tend to bring random floozies from time to time. The girls, mostly drill team dancers, sometimes bring guys up though they rarely bring fresh meat to the group.

They also rarely acknowledge my existence unless Francesca brings their attention to me, and then they pretend to care before rolling their eyes and starting a new conversation with the people they really care about. I know that I'm looked at as Francesca's "charity case friend", but it doesn't really bother me. I know our friendship, they don't. She always includes me, even if it annoys them. And she makes a point to draw me out of my comfort zone, which I would never do on my own.

But something about today is already different then every other day of school. Because my attention is drawn to someone I've never cared about before. Because what catches my eye immediately today is Asher.

It's weird because he's never caught my attention before. He's never even been on my radar. And now, he's on mind too much. I hate to admit that he fluttered through my dreams over the weekend. I've never really dreamed about anyone, well anyone I know to be specific. But Asher's deep timbre, his tan skin, and his dark eyes that resemble a cloudy day weaved their way through my blood and it confused me.

So I pushed out the thoughts of Asher, specifically the thoughts of his hands on my body away feeling myself flush and heat at the wispy dreams.

I stand slightly behind my best friend as I do every day when we enter school. The group talks animatedly about the party over the weekend. I rarely pitch in unless Francesca urges me to, but in this moment I want to disappear more than I already do.

Asher's party was the kick off for our last semester in high school, and my run with Asher in his room wasn't the way I wanted to start that out. After the bathroom incident I ran downstairs and found Francesca to tell her I wasn't feeling well. Since I drove my mother's car and she promised to find a new ride home, I headed far away from the Grove and into the real world. Far away from the luxurious house parties, and boys too pretty to be looking my way.

"You had fun at the party right?" Asher questions someone in the group. My eyes are still cast on my feet and I'm zoning out most of the conversation around me, but I assume his question is directed at Francesca.

"Maeleigh?" The deep resonance of his voice brushes against the back of my neck making me shiver slightly. My name on his lips makes me want to drop to my knees and give him anything he wants to just hear him say my name one more time. It's downright sinful.

My eyes flicker up to meet stormy ones that make my heart stop momentarily.

"Me...me?" I stutter out awkwardly. My eyes glance around the group, but no one is focusing on us as Francesca is talking and all eyes are on her.

Asher angles his body ever so slightly to mirror mine, so he's partially out of the group similar to me. It just now clicked that his tone was hushed in a way for only me to hear.

His pink lips turn up in a wicked smirk, his eyes sparkling like he's looking at his prey. Like I'm some new and shiny toy for him to play with. "Of course you," he drawls. "I mean you did strip for me," he teases.

My eyes widen. "I did not strip for you," I whisper yell at the man who makes my blood boil in anger but also for him in a newfound secret want.

His right shoulder lifts casually. "Tomato, tomatoe," he reasons.

I narrow my eyes. "You're an ass," I tell him as my eyes glance behind me to make sure no one is noticing my repartee with the school's hottest guy.

A small dry chuckle escapes his parted lips, as his head tilts in wonder. Like everything I do doesn't make quite sense to him, almost like I amuse him.

"What?" I ask suddenly self-conscious. Hating his how his intense glare follows my every movement.

"Nothing," he answers instantly. "You're right, I am an ass," he assures me.

"And that doesn't bother you?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

"Of course not," he states as he turns to insert himself back into the group where he belongs and brushes me off without another glance.

I return to my position angled behind Francesca, no one noticing my absence. My mind a jumbled mess at the way Asher was talking to me, acknowledging me for the first time in all our years in school together.

Then the bell rings, the shrill sound catching everyone's attention.

And with that our last semester in high school begins.

* * * * *

"Fuck high school," I grumble to myself as I rinse down the balls used in gym classes today. From kick balls to soccer balls to footballs and every damn ball in-between.

I was being nice and helping some freshmen find a class, and because of that I showed up ten minutes late to my last period class. Gym, which is usually a class I have fun in, I soon realized I would hate this semester.

The new teacher wanted to come across like a badass because he's young, so using my tardiness to establish power was his move. I respected it to a point, but it was literally the first day of classes for the year. It was aggressive, and far from needed.

But here I am an hour after school has ended rolling the large crate of women's equipment to their locker room.

I then go back to the main door and roll in the crate for the men's locker room. I push through and into the one room I never thought I'd enter. The men's locker room looks almost identical to the women's locker room. Same set of navy blue lockers lining the walls, with benches set in front as well as a set of open showers with the same flimsy shower curtain. The only difference lies in the urinals that sit next to the actual stalls.

With a sigh I pull in the rolling crate and push it up against the other containers filled with gym equipment. I settle it against the wall just as a door opens. My eyebrows rise in shock as most of the students have left, and no one has practice today for sports, as it is the first day back.

With a confident stroll Asher enters my presence from the back door that leads to all the practice fields.

"What are you doing here?" I ask as soon as his eyes lock on mine.

He doesn't answer, but instead decides to use this exact moment to reach behind himself to grab onto his sweaty t-shirt and pull it forward to reveal a naked torso. Not only is the move more attractive then I want to admit, I also hate the way my eyes fall on his half naked body.

His toned chest and abs are like something straight out of a magazine, and make images of his naked chest against mine fill my suddenly hazy mind. Images of my lips on his body. Images of my hands on his body. The overwhelming need that surges through me at the sight of him shocks me to my core. So I take a step back, away from the man I rarely noticed before his party.

"Look who's stripping for whom now," I comment sarcastically under my breath as I force my gaze onto my shoes and away from his lickable body.

A small chuckle rings in the air making me think he heard my words. "You're a funny one Maeleigh," he teases.

I finally look up to see Asher moving around the locker room, and I'm startled to see him now in nothing but a white towel that's slung low on his hips.

My eyebrows scrunch as my body floods with a multitude of emotions. I cross my arms across my chest as a way of defending myself from his presence. "It's Mae," I correct him. I don't know if it's all of his confidence and bravado that makes me speak out around him more than I do with anyone. But something pushes me to speak up, to let out a side usually only my best friend and mother see from me.

He pauses as if he's thinking about something extremely important. Then he shakes his head as if he's decided on whatever made him stop. "Nope," he tells me. "I like Maeleigh better."

My body flushes slightly from the way he says my name, to the finality of the way he decided that's what he will be calling me. Like he will be saying my name for a long time to come. I clear my throat and straighten my back slightly as I prepare myself to address this almost naked man. "So what are you doing here Asher?" I ask again, hoping I come off more confident then I feel.

He takes a few steps towards me. "What are you doing here Maeleigh?" he counters, mimicking my question.

I motion towards the crate filled with all the equipment I cleaned. "I was late to class so I had to wash all the balls," I admit lamely.

His lips turn up in a mischievous smirk and he opens his mouth, but I raise my hand and cut him off right away knowing where his dirty mind is going.

"Don't be that guy that makes a bad joke about me washing your balls," I tell him with a slight cringe.

He shrugs. "But I am that guy," he acknowledges honestly. "Remember that Maeleigh." His words force me to pause for a moment. It was almost like he was warning me about him. But the alarm bells weren't ringing for me to leave just yet. In fact they were doing the exact opposite.

I want to know more.

"So you know why I'm here," I draw out. "Do I get to know why you're here after hours?" I question.

"I help Coach Liston teach the boys soccer team from the elementary school," he says referring to the men's gym teacher as he walks over to me. But he doesn't stop in front of me, he continues past me until he reaches the locker room showers.

He pushes the curtain aside easily and turns on the shower, the old pipes sputtering for a few seconds before a steady stream fills the small space. He then jerks the curtain closed, as all the students know it takes a few solid minutes for the water to even become room temperature let alone warm.

"You help coach little kids?" I ask with open disbelief.

Asher looks at me with feign hurt as he slaps a hand to his solid chest. "What? I'm not a good enough guy to help kids, I'm just that evil," he says mocking me slightly.

I narrow my eyes at his taunting tone. "Don't act like it isn't hard to believe," I tell him truthfully.

He nods lightly, accepting my words. "Well I mean you might be kind of right," he tells me as his arms now cross over his chest. Almost like he's embarrassed to admit the truth to me.

"I knew it!" I exclaim calling him out as my finger points at him in accusation.

He holds out his hands with a grimace painted across his lips. "Okay chill," he says sardonically. "It's part of my community service," he tries to reason with me.

"What did you do?" I ask bravely.

He rolls his eyes. "It's stupid," he says as his large shoulders lift in frustration. "Wasn't even a big deal."

"I'm sure," I smirk back.

Asher makes a face at me pretending not to like my sass filled sarcasm, though I know he does. I can feel it oddly enough. I can feel the tension rise through the air and the electricity pulse between us. A push and pull, that I'm all too aware will become a crash and burn if I'm not careful.

"I was walking home one night and was a tad drunk," he emphasizes and I can't help the small chuckle that escapes my lips. "So a cop stopped me to ask me a few questions, and I said some dumb shit and next thing I know he's searching me," he finishes casually as if he didn't just tell me a story on how we was arrested.

"And..." I trail knowing there's more to the story.

"I had a dime bag on me," he sighs as if he's still a little pissed off at his arrest.

"Damn, that sucks," I agree though the words feel weird. Because I don't do drugs, I rarely drink, so why am I sympathizing with a guy like this?

"Yeah," he breathes out as he runs a hand through his dark brown hair. His movements draw my gaze as a deep tingling runs to the ends of my fingertips begging for me to step forward and replace his hand with my own. I quickly squeeze my hands into fists and push the overpowering feeling away.

"So, all of that and this is your only punishment?" I question attempting to bring my focus on his bad qualities rather than the ones that make me want to reach out and touch him. "Seems like you got off light," I add with a raise of my brow.

"Well my dad knows the chief of police, and judge, and got my charge lessened and this was the deal," he explains. "Plus it happened in the fall when I was seventeen so as long as I finish this out it will be expunged from my record," he finishes as he reaches into the running shower to check the temperature of his water.

"Wow," I remark a bit appalled by his indifference.

"What?" he scoffs, not understanding my sudden standoffishness.

"Money really can buy anything," I respond with a touch of annoyance coloring my tone.

"Glad to see you're just now realizing how the real world works young Maeleigh," he retorts as if he is so much older and wiser than me because of his actions and money. His confidence makes him less likable, but sadly not less attractive as I can't keep my eyes off of his bare skin. It's as if the past weekend flipped a switch inside me and now all I can see is him. All I want is him. And it makes no sense, and I know I will never act on these feelings because Asher will always belong to my best friend in my eyes.

He turns to the shower and I tell he's done with our conversation. I am also realizing he is not one for goodbyes, he will end a conversation when he decides as if the rest of the world is just waiting on him. As if it revolves around him, but the more I think about it, it does. Easton is his kingdom, and nobody stops him or challenges him. Everyone just bows down and lets him reign.

So I challenge. "But you enjoy it," I blurt out before he can drop his towel and escape into the warm water.

He stops. His back turning to stone as if I've struck a chord with him, as if I've overstepped my boundaries with him.

"What?" he questions me as his body twists slightly to face me. His already strong jaw is now locked and his grey eyes so dark they remind me of a starless night. No life, just infinite darkness to fall into and never recover from.

"I saw you when you walked in, you were smiling," I tell him my observation of him before he caught me in the locker room with him. "You like helping coach."

He scoffs. "You don't know what you're talking about," he says rudely as if I couldn't be more wrong.

"I might not," I agree in my reply. "But I think I'm right on about this," I add on with a small shrug gracing my shoulder.

"You want to know what I enjoy?" he counters back with a devilish smirk coating his lips.

"Sure," I answer without thinking anything of my words. Not taking in his appearance for what it is, and his constant need to have the last word or action.

"Your face when I do this," he says, predicting actions I don't quite understand.

"Do what—"

My words barely leave my mouth as he drops his towel to reveal his naked body before stepping fully into the now steam filled shower leaving me fully stunned and breathless all at once.

And with that I once again run away from Asher Lawton.