k a r r i s

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I had a lot of a faith in me; so much so, that the simple notion of hope, drove and motivated me to such great lengths. But with faith, also comes an ounce of fear. Fear that mere faith isn't enough to sway universal forces, and everything you've been dreaming of, crashes into the depths of Hell.

The hockey team had their Chemistry exam today-- and I was extremely nervous for them.

As the boys huddled together in the confines of the school library during our lunch period, delving themselves in a last minute crunch session, I was twiddling my thumbs at a lunch table by the windows. I was nervous for the hockey team; I had faith in each one of them, but sometimes faith can only take one so far.

"Why are you alone?"

The chair across from me suddenly filled up with a dimpled smile, and a head of messy curls peeking out from a black cap. Ashton smiled at me with tight lips as he settled at the lunch table.

"The boys wanted to study on their own," I sighed. "Also, I'm waiting on Berkley."

"You're not eating," Ashton observed, plopping his backpack on top of the table.

Without sounding creepy, I watched as the boy in front of me rummaged through his belongings. The sun's rays flowed through the window and the beams casted a spotlight around Ashton. I tried to hide my smile while I admired him; admired every little bit about the hockey captain. The way he bit his bottom lip in focus, the way his strong arms moved in the grey Silversun Pickups shirt he wore, and the way he gazed fondly at me with his bright, hazel eyes.

Nucking futs... he caught me staring.

"Enjoying the view, babydoll?" Ashton snickered, grabbing a plastic bag from the inside of his knapsack.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I denied, crossing my arms above my chest.

"Oh please, I totally know when I'm being checked out," Ashton declared confidently. He stuck his hand into the plastic bag, pulling out a Ziploc bag.

"Who says I was checking you out?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Have you seen me?" Ashton opened his arms wide, dropping the package from his hands and flexing his ungodly large muscles, before sending me a cocky wink.

"Have you seen Ryder Sanchez?" I challenged with pursed lips. Ashton's ego needed to be turned down a few notches.

"What?"

"Ryder Sanchez," I head nodded towards the Latin beauty sitting a few tables behind Ashton. "He looks sexy with his hair pushed back, don't you think?"

Ashton furrowed his eyebrows, shifting in his chair to turn around. He took a gander towards the direction of Ryder for a few moments before looking back at me with a disgusted grimace on his face.

"Most definitely not," he shook his head. "Is that your type?"

"If tall, dark, and handsome is a type, then sure," I smirked. "You do remember my thing for Calum, right?"

Ashton scoffed, sinking into his seat, "yea, that was a hot mess."

"Hey! It's not my fault that he liked someone else," I defended.

"And for your own good, thank God,"

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means," Ashton started, taking out his sandwich from the Ziploc bag and tearing it in half, "that you got out of an even hotter mess if you two actually dated."

"That's kinda mean," I stated, glaring at Ashton with a scrunched face.

"Not as mean as your stomach if you don't eat anything," he hinted, passing me half of his sandwich.

I gazed at Ashton as he brandished his arm towards me with the sloppily torn sandwich in his hand. He was so... so... weird? Was that the word I was looking for? An enigma, yes; hardheaded, definitely; but there was a weird softie side to Ashton that I wasn't use to.

"Thanks," I grumbled, taking the sandwich and inspecting it-- PB and J.

"So tell me," Ashton chewed, "what's your favorite color?"

"Whoa, my favorite color? I barely know you, dude. Are you sure you don't wanna know something more simple, like my Social Security Number?" I joked, biting the soft bread and indulging in the taste of smooth peanut butter.

"I decided that if I'm going get to know my coach better, then I better ask the hard hitting questions first," Ashton mused with an unexpected, yet totally adorable giggle.

"Wait," I squinted in curiosity. "Did you just address me as your coach?"

"It slipped,"

"Mmhm,"

"Answer the question," Ashton pressed. "What's your favorite color?"

"It's yellow," I answered. "What about you?"

"Purple,"

"Purple?"

"Yea, but not like some lavender shit," Ashton reiterated. "I like that deep, dark, bold purple color... like eggplants."

I bursted into laughter. I couldn't help it. The bit of information Ashton had just shared was by far the best, and most quirkiest things I learned about him. That piece of oddness made him human-- made him all more real.

"Don't laugh at me for being pleased by the color purple. That's bullying and I won't tolerate that," Ashton declared playfully, a dimpled grin painting his face.

I scoffed, "coming from the guy who locked me in a supply closet before dumping BBQ sauce all over me."

Ashton grew silent. His spirited smile melted into a frown, as my laughter faded into the lunchtime commotion around us. He was contemplating my statement, I could tell. Though I was only being playful, as I have forgiven the team for their hellish ways, Ashton didn't seem to feel the same way.

"You know," he began, exhaling in a way that made me feel like he was about to expose a scandal. "I really, truly, and am most sorry about that. I treated you like an unwanted piece of shit, when I should've just respected you from the start."

I smiled, feeling Ashton's genuine apology warm me up from the inside out. I could tell that he felt terrible about the situation, and I could also tell that it was taking a lot in him to slowly open up to me.

"What I didn't understand then, but understand now, is that you weren't truly angry with me," I decoded. "You were just angry with the idea of me. I'm not Gabe, I know that. You two were best friends and you just miss him."

Ashton didn't speak. He only wallowed deep in my words, vulnerability prickling his skin. I was learning what made him tick, and my twin brother was one of those things.

"I have another deep, bold question for you," Ashton spoke.

"Okay," I answered slowly, cocking my head in curiosity. "Are you going to ask what my favorite food is, or..."

Ashton chuckled and shook his head, "skinny tie or bow tie?"

"Umm," I smiled, thinking about my options. "Bow tie, definitely. Why do you ask?"

Ashton opened his mouth but before he could get any words out, the bell rang and our lunch break was over. That bell also meant it was time for the boys to take their chemistry exam-- and I was growing nervous by the second. My nerves seemed to be amplified with each movement I made. Shaky hands, knocking over my water bottle, and even tripping on the table's leg as I sidled away, my anxiety was becoming obvious.

"Babydoll," Ashton draped an arm around me, causing my muscles to tense from the unexpected gesture. "Relax, please. The boys will do fine... you're an awesome tutor."

I looked up at him with doubt, "do you really think so?"

"Fuck yea, dude," Ashton laughed, squeezing my shoulder in reassurance. "Any tutor who not only can come up with the idea to teach Chemistry concepts using weed, but to actually do it? Damn, that's a tutor worth remembering."

I grinned-- big, happy, and dopy as ever, my smile was bright enough to light up the depths of space. My nervousness decreased because of Ashton's compliment, and my stomach started to flutter.

He eventually dropped his arm from my shoulder and the warmth of his body heat slowly diminished. But the weird sensation in my tummy, well, that continued to torment me. At that point I couldn't diagnose what my body was trying to tell me. In hindsight however, it was the beginning of a heart-throttling crush.

Yikes.

I stood outside of the Chemistry class with Ashton by my side, bouncing on my toes as a fidgeting habit. Then, like slow motion, the Willowridge hockey team strutted down the hallway. Confidence beamed from every limb as each boy walked with a special kind of finesse. You know that part in movies when the 'cool girls' or 'freshly-made over girls' would walk through a crowded corridor in slow motion, an epic swagger surrounding them?

That was them.

It was almost hilarious to watch. Michael wore sunglasses, Calum did a ridiculous Bieber-esque hair flip, Luke winked at our peers, and a few of the other hockey members threw papers into the air, slowly cascading to the floor like an academic rainfall. I laughed at their playfulness, and suddenly, I wasn't so nervous anymore. I could see that they were confident, but not cocky; just enough tenacity to take on their exam with no problem.

"Hey Karris," Michael spun around and wrapped an around my shoulder. "I hope you don't keep bleach and vinegar anywhere near each other in your cupboards."

"And why not?" I cocked an eyebrow, smirking up at number-22.

"Because acids and bleach when mixed together create a very toxic chloric gas... which is totally not awesome at all," Michael confidently explained.

I laughed, clapping my hands together in amusement, "I'm very impressed."

"You're a dumb fuck, Clifford," Ashton spat, shaking his head, all before grinning and giving Michael a hardy pat on the back. "But I'm impressed too. Well done, friend."

"Who know Chemistry could actually be sorta fun?" Michael shrugged.

"I hate to break up this bond, because, you know, breaking bonds uses so much energy," Luke sent an over- exaggerated wink to highlight the chemistry pun he constructed in his mind.

"But we've got a Chemistry exam to take," Calum chimed in. "And I would tell you some cheesy Chem joke, but all of them Argon."

Calum nudged my shoulder with an incredulous grin painted on his face, very pleased with himself. I giggled along, face palming myself in expense of Calum's joke.

"Good luck to all of you. I have a feeling all of you are going to do great," I predicted.

"Well, we do have an awesome tutor," Michael shrugged, punching me in the shoulder. I was moved by his compliment.

"I say, if we do well and we're off academic probation, we celebrate," Calum suggested, cueing the team to all nod their heads and whoop in excitement.

"Yea! And Karris can make more special brownies!" Luke hinted with a thrilling note of hope in his voice.

"No!"

"No!"

It wasn't just I, who shot down Luke's idea to dabble in recreational marijuana-- it was Ashton too. I turned my head to look at the hockey captain who had his arms crossed above his chest and an expression of disbelief on his face.

"There will be no weed for the princess," Ashton sternly voiced.

Michael rested a hand on Luke's shoulder, "did you hear that, Luke? No weed for you... princess."

We fell into hysterical laughter, burrowing ourselves in what had to be one of Michael's best clap-backs, yet. As I clutched onto my stomach, seconds away from falling into the set of lockers next to me due to the cinching pain of laughter, I caught glimpse of a black-haired best friend of mine. I guessed I was so stressed about the team's Chem exam, in addition to Ashton being the perfect distraction, that I almost forgot about not spending lunch with my favorite Latina.

"Hey Berkley!" I called out, before jogging across the hall to meet my best friend.

Berkley paused, but in doing so, prompted another familiar face to also stop in her tracks. Natalia Luca stood next to Berkley, and upon seeing me, grinned at my presence.

"Hey Karebear," Berkley greeted.

"Where were you at lunch today?" I asked.

"Sorry, I didn't realize my text didn't send till the bell rang," Berkley apologized. "I was with Natalia at the guidance counselor's office."

"Why? Is everything alright academically?" I questioned, though was hard for me to believe. Berkley was quite the scholar and rarely had issues with her grades.

"Everything's okay," Berkley promised.

"I was just helping her out," Natalia chimed in, pride glinting in her snapping green eyes.

"Oh? With what?" It wasn't in my nature to be territorial with my best friend; I just was always use to the idea of Berkley coming to me for help, and vice versa.

"Researching scholarships," Berkley stated. "Since I'm no longer on the dance team, my chance at a dance scholarship is basically nonexistent. I still need to pay for college somehow and that's when Natalia popped in at perfect timing."

"I T.A. for the counselor's office and there are tons of pamphlets containing a plethora of scholarships," Natalia informed. "I'm pretty sure you've already done your own research, but if you need an extra hand Karris, I'm here to help."

I smiled at Natalia's generous offer, "thank you. I appreciate that, and I appreciate you taking the time to help out Berkley."

"It was my pleasure," Natalia beamed. "But, we should get going before we're late to our Government class."

"Of course," I nodded.

And with that, Berkley and Natalia waved goodbye. I watched them walk through the sea of people, continuing in a conversation that was probably halted when I called after Berkley. Their friendship was still a little odd to me, not because I was jealous or anything, but for the reason that Natalia was the one who indirectly made Berkley cry not too long ago. It was Natalia's closeness to Luke that crushed Berkley's heart, and now it's as if the two girls had been friends for a lifetime.

The warning bell rang soon after which meant I only had a minute to haul my behind to English Lit. When I spun around to give the hockey team one last pep-talk, they were no where to be found. I deduced that the boys had filtered into their classroom. Ashton however, was leaning up against the lockers with his attention at the cellphone in his hand.

"I gotta get to English," I told him as I approached.

"I'll walk with you," Ashton said, starting the trek down the hall.

"Isn't your History class the other way?"

"I'll take the long way,"

I only nodded my head in response, startled by Ashton's demeanor. He walked fairly close to me, his arm grazing mine ever-so-slightly as the two of us headed towards the A-block.

"I forgot to ask," I glanced at Ashton. "How was your Literature exam yesterday?"

"It was pretty easy, but I'll find out the results later today," Ashton mentioned. "I have a feeling I passed so be sure to get your question ready."

"I wasn't asking about your exam because I wanted to pry," I was taken aback by his statement. "I genuinely care about your academic well-being."

"I know Karris, I know," Ashton assured. "And I genuinely care about your mental well-being. So, be sure you have a good question to ask about Cal and Gabe."

I didn't respond out loud, or really talk for rest of the walk to my classroom. I just wallowed in my thoughts, thinking about all the possibilities and endless questions I could ask Ashton. There were so many things I needed to know, but I wasn't sure which was of utmost importance. However, I had to push it out of my mind because it was time for class. I turned over my shoulder to give Ashton a wave goodbye.

"Thanks for walking me to class," I told him.

"Eh, it's whatever," Ashton shrugged. "I'll see you later at the team meeting."

"Later," I waited for a moment, watching Ashton turn on his heel and trudge through the hallway before I walked into my own classroom.

English Literature seemed to drag on for hours, as did the rest of the day. I wanted so bad for the clock to strike 3 o'clock so I could rush over to the hockey rink. This would be our first meeting in several weeks while the team was on academic probation. It was also the same meeting that I hoped would generate good news.

I was itching to be back on the ice for normal practice. We only missed two games so far, but if we miss a third, our season is over, and the Willowridge hockey team can say goodbye to a tenth consecutive championship. Winning the championship is more than just winning a game and a new trophy to add to the ever-growing repertoire of Willowridge wins. This championship was the perfect, last thing to sum up what would be the last hockey season for several of the players on the team. For the seniors graduating in June, the title of dominating the high school ice hockey empire for the last 10 years, was a title they wanted with every fiber in them.

When 3PM struck, and the final bell of the day rang in my ears, I wasted no time. I jumped out of my seat, grabbing my things and avoided my locker. I didn't want to spend the extra five minutes gathering my belongings when I decided to catapult myself through the corridor and out the glass doors. I hurriedly made my way down the concrete pathway that lead to the athletic department.

I could honestly say that I thought to be the first person at the meeting today. But when I stepped forth in the hockey rink, I found several anxious boys already seated on the bleachers. Quiet, fidgety, and restless, my senses picked up on the tension that surrounded the team like a dark aura. I was nervous too-- I just wanted us back on the ice.

"Please hold me," there was heavy tug on my arm, causing me to plop down on the bleacher.

"Oh, whoa, okay, okay," I gasped, trying to assess the situation that was currently holding onto me for their dear life.

Michael Clifford-- he hugged me tightly and buried his face into my chest as if I were a safety blanket. With a sigh and a heart full of empathy, I reciprocated Michael's embrace.

"You'll be fine," I cooed. "You all studied so hard for this exam, and worked so hard."

"What if we don't pass and our lives are over?" Michael exasperated, his worry-filled voice muffled against my body.

"Your lives won't be over," I promised. "And I know it might be hard to believe, but you can live a life without hockey. You all are talented regardless."

There wasn't an imminent response. Instead, it was silent for a moment. It was as if Michael were contemplating my words; mulling over my expression before gathering his own.

Then, he did.

"You always know what to say to make me feel better," Michael hugged me tighter, and I smiled down at the tough hockey player who was merely just a teddy bear.

"Babydoll, what the hell are you doing?"

I snapped my attention to the deep resonance that bounced in my ears. Ashton was sitting on the bench behind me, sending a judgmental death glare my way.

"Waiting for my milkshake to bring all the boys to the yard," I sassed, sarcasm coating my tongue. "What else, Ash? I'm comforting Mikey."

"He's not the only one who took an exam today," Ashton pointed out, attitude laced with every word.

"I know that,"

"Oh, do you?"

"What's your deal?"

"I'm just saying that there's a whole team who could use some comfort," Ashton's tone was chalk full of unadulterated sass and I had no clue why.

Before I could get a word in, Ashton stood up from the bench and pushed our goalie, David, out of the way. David teetered to the side as Ashton forced himself in between number 45 and I. Sending the goalie a sympathetic smile, I then whipped my attention back to Ashton with furrowed brows.

"Don't be rude," I demanded.

"And don't let your attention be limited to just one individual," Ashton rebottled.

I cringed, "you make no sense."

The sound of heavy footsteps against concrete caught the entire space off guard. Murmurs came to a sudden halt and our focus snapped to the figure behind us. Holding a stack of papers in his large hand, Coach Benson defended the stone steps with a stoic expression painted on his face.

The entire room cowered, anxiety prickling our existence with an annoying sting. Our eyes darted, glancing at one another as we waited for the verdict. Michael, who was still attached to my torso, hugged me tighter. I did have plans to reciprocate the embrace; to assure him that regardless of the results, things were going to be okay.

But my plans fell through, because Ashton came through.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, my eyes wide as I looked down at my hand buried deep in Ashton's calloused ones. Though the gesture was unexpected, I kind of liked it.

"I told you not to limit your attention," Ashton argued back, his voice at a harsh whisper. "I'm nervous babydoll... comfort me, damn-it."

That shut me up real quick. I had no words to say, nothing remotely intelligent for me to offer. I just sat there with my heart pounding against my chest and random alpaca facts swirling around in my mind.

"So, what's the verdict?" Luke spoke up first. "Is my life over?"

I looked around the room, watching the team and seeing their faces drip with anxiety. As my focus darted from player to player, I noticed that a certain dark-haired member was missing from the benches. With a cocked head, I glanced around, wondering where Calum could be.

Coach Benson let out a hard sigh, "you knuckleheads seem to be pretty smart."

"What does that mean?" Michael's head rose from my chest to look at Coach with a curious expression.

"It means," Coach started, gazing at the team before smirking. "You all passed your exam, thus raising your grades."

Like a crescendo of joyous jeers, the entire team erupted into excited cheers. They all jumped out of their seats, hopping into the air and hugging each other tightly.

"I don't have to own a bakeshop in Ohio!" Michael screamed, throwing his hands into the air with glee.

As the team rejoiced, Coach Benson approached Ashton and I, however his eyes only focused on the hockey captain. With a grin, he brandished a small, stapled stack of papers. Out of curiosity, Ashton grabbed ahold of it and glanced down at the red markings that embellished the top paper.

"Good job, Captain," Coach Benson praised, his lips turning upwards into a bright grin.

"I passed my Literature exam," Ashton spoke at a whisper, his own voice unsure of the realities around him.

"You passed your Literature exam," I repeated, darting my eyes from the 97% on the page, to Ashton's wide eyes.

"I passed!" Ashton shrieked animatedly. He stood up, as did I and the moment we both were on our two feet, Ashton picked me up.

He grasped onto my waist with a tenacious grip and and lifted me into the air. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around his neck, and reciprocated the hug with just as much joy and excitement. When Ashton finally put me down, he smiled, and looked me straight in the eye.

"Thank you, Karebear," and then he planted a kiss on my cheek. 

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It's been so long and I'm so sorry! It's been hard trying to find the time to write when school's been a hot mess. Thanks for being patient with me.

I do hope you like this chapter. Thank you for always supporting me and my works. I appreciate all the comments and sweet messages! 

I hope you are all doing well in your lives, and if not, I wish you all the positivity and love!