Pool Parties

The skies are darkening, and I'm unaware of how we got to the stage where it was almost evening already. My arms are tired of swimming and my legs can give out any second. When we started out our game of tag, Asher was the one who was 'it'. The one who had to catch everyone. Much to my surprise, he didn't immediately swim after me, all knowing that I was a slow swimmer. In fact, he caught me last which made the whole situation scary and awkward at the same time. His friends kept laughing at me as I struggled to swim away from him. He let me get away on purpose one too many times, all part of his game of cat-and-mouse. Katherine looked unhappy with the situation, clearly disliking the fact that all attention was on me.

That was two hours ago, and it was very fun. I was enjoying myself way too much with people who tormented people like me in school. Now we were just relaxing in and out of the pool. The boys still swam a bit and played water fights, while the girls relaxed on the pool side chairs. I was sitting at the pool side alone with my legs in the water, half contemplating getting in and joining Asher and his friends, and half contemplating getting up and joining Becca and her friends. It was a decision I couldn't decide on, so I ended up sitting alone at the edge of the pool, a lonely sigh escaping my lips.

Thoughts of my friends were swirling in my head, about how they left when Asher and his friends came out. I don't like how separated me and my group of friends are from the rest of the school's society. Being just friends with Ling and Lohan for so long suddenly feel. . . boring. I didn't realise the fun I was missing out on with being sheltered my whole highschool life with two friends and eating lunch in the library. I love Ling and Lohan to bits, but I also want to spend my senior year having fun. Making memories. Their actions of earlier made me think that they like our same old, boring routine.

I'm about to stand up, when I notice Brandon approaching me. I gulp. I find him more intimidating than all of them, even Asher. For starters, I don't know him at all like I know Asher, which makes him unpredictable. Secondly, he was always punching people at school.

Coming to a stop, he leaned against the edge of the pool besides my legs. I covered my exposed legs awkwardly with my hands.

"Do you wanna join us? You look lonely over here." He sounds surprisingly friendly and inviting, not what I expected him to be.

I think about it for a second, then decide my answer, "Nope, I'm good. But thank you."

"Suit yourself. What's your story anyway?" He asks unexpectedly, looking at me with an expectant look.

I cough awkwardly. "What do you mean?"

"I get that you're Ash's neighbor and all and he's protective over you and blah blah blah, but why don't you hang out with him at school? You sit with those losers." He shrug.

I feel offended when he calls my friends losers. If they're losers, then I'm also a loser and he damn well knows it. I never fit in with the rest of the crowd, and I'm not confident enough to speak to anyone other than my close friends. Does he not pay attention to what's been going on at school? Asher quite despises me.

"They're not losers." I say defensively. "Just because we're smart and have a small group of friends, doesn't mean we're losers. And no, Asher isn't protective. He's mean to me and most definitely wouldn't want me to sit with you guys." I laugh as if it's the most ridiculous thing in the world. Quite frankly, it is.

"Alright, tiger. I didn't mean to offend you." He smirks. "You really don't know Asher as well as you think you do, Rose."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frown.

"He doesn't pick on you because he wants to. He's not a dick because he wants to humiliate you or anything. And if you knew him all, you would know that he would kick anyone's ass who talks shit about you."

"That's not true." I say with the biggest frown I could muster.

"You might live next door to him. But I have also known him my whole life, and I'm with him almost every minute of the day at school. He's not as bad as you think."

"Did he pay you to say these things?" I raise a brow.

He chuckles. "No, he didn't."

I sigh. "Whatever."

"I know that you like him." He say. He raises himself out of the pool and sits next to me, much to my surprise. When our legs make contact, I jump away, my heart racing and my cheeks warm.

"I do not like him." I say breathlessly, avoiding looking at Brandon's face. He will be able to tell that in lying. I'm not a very good liar, and by the way my cheeks are warming all too quickly I can tell that it will be an obvious giveaway.

"You're so fucking obvious, Rose." He laughs obnoxiously. "Everyone can see it."

I blink repeatedly. "No, they can't." I say meekly.

"So you admit to liking him?"

"No!"

"I won't tell him, you know? I'm not that much of a dickhead." He chuckles.

"So you admit to being a dickhead?" I ask, trying to change to topic.

"And you admit to liking him?"

"I didn't say that."

He grabs my arms unexpectedly and pulls my body around.

"What are you doing?" I ask in outrage.

"See," he analyses my face. "You're blushing."

"Don't touch me." I slap his hand away.

In my side view, I notice Asher swimming towards us. I can't stand to see him right now, embarrassed that Brandon might discuss the topic of me liking him any further. Brandon is his best friend, there's no way he wouldn't tell him. That's if Asher doesn't know already. I stand up abruptly and run towards my backyard door, not looking back for even a second.

"What the fuck did you say to her?" I mildly hear Asher say, but I'm far in my home already. When I enter through the back door I slam it shut as I feel my eyes water a bit. I sniffle and wipe away my tears hastily.

I shuffle through the kitchen and pass the living room to see my parents relaxing on the sofa and watching TV.

"Having fun, Rose?" My mom ask.

"Uh. . . Yeah." I nod.

"I see you have new friends. That must be the doing of Becca." She continues.

"So what, I can't make new friends on my own?"

My mom looks surprised, as well as my dad.

"That's not at all what I meant." She quickly says. "It's just that you only ever bring Lohan and Ling over. I'm glad that you have new friends."

I sigh, stepping towards the single sofa and taking a seat. "I know. I'm sorry for being rude."

"You're okay, darling." She smiles. "How is Asher doing?"

"He fine." I hum out with a forced smile.

"And the tutor sessions? Any progress?"

"Not yet. It's only been a a few days of helping him." I answer.

My mom is about to say something, when I hear a knock on the back door. I assume it must be Becca, so I jump up from my seat. "Enjoy the movie." I muster a smile.

"Thanks, honey." My dad says.

I walk towards the back door in long strides. I pass the kitchen and enter the back room. When I get there I look through the transparent sliding doors to see Asher instead of Becca like I'd expected. I pull the door open slowly.

"Since when are you one to knock?" I murmur, staring up at him.

"I wasn't sure if your mom was going to open or you." He answers.

I nod in understanding, leaning against the sliding doors and slouching my posture. My focus goes towards the ground, trying my hardest to avoid Asher's visible six pack. Today is absolutely not going the way I envisioned it to. For starters, Ling and Lohan left hours ago. And here Asher was, standing at my doorway.

"Do you need anything?" I murmur out in question.

"Why don't you come outside?" He asks, leaning against the door. His arms stretches out above his head to support his posture, and my eyes zero in on the way his muscles flex. Geez, get a hold of yourself.

"l-I'm tired already." I lie. The truth is, I can't face him or his devil of a friend, after Brandon made me realise that maybe it is obvious that I like Asher and maybe he knew all along and that's why he always tormented me.

"You don't look tired to me." He shrugs. "Besides, I'm inviting a few more friends over tonight. Our parents are leaving for a dinner with some new client or some shit. It will be the perfect time."

"A dinner? They didn't tell me that." I frown. "And no, I won't let you throw a party in our backyard."

"Keyword being 'our' backyard. I can do whatever the fuck I want. Besides, I only said a few friends." He smirks, leaning slightly towards me. We're inches apart, so I lean back. I nearly fall and step back instead.

"Fine. Do whatever you want." I say snarkily. "But I won't be a part of the reason that your parents ground you when they find out."

"Suit yourself, Rosie. I was actually hoping you would come outside." He mumbles lowly.

"Why?" I ask back, just as softly. Something about our conversation seems forbidden.

His hand raises towards my face. I glance at it warily. He then proceeds to gently place his hand on my cheek, and softly strokes it. I sigh lightly. His hands feels so good against me. So calming.

"Tell me what you and Brandon were talking about." I snap out of my daze when he pulls away.

So Brandon hadn't in fact told him. It was beyond surprising.

"Nothing. He was just messing with me." I say.

"You're lying. What did he say?"

"Nothing, Asher." I sigh in frustration. "He just asked me if I wanted to join you guys in the pool and when I said no, he was just messing with me from then onwards."

"He didn't say. . . anything else?" He asks unsurely, searching my face for answers.

"No, I swear." I gulp deeply. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

"You so obviously do." I tease.

"Drop it, Rosie. Go inside now."

I frown. "I thought you wanted me outside."

"I did, but you clearly want to go back inside.

"Fine, whatever." I huff and uncross my arms, stepping backwards. I'm about to slide the door shut in his face when he stops it from closing.

"Oh, and Rosie?"

"Yeah?"

"Brandon won't mess with you again. I can assure you that." He says, staring at me for a second before turning around and leaving again. I stare at the ripped muscles on his back, when suddenly he turns around again.

"You're mine to mess with." He says with a smirk, leaving me a flustered mess.

I shut the door quickly and spin on my heel, speed walking away from the door. I pass my parents on my way up to the stairs and decide to ask them about this dinner they're having later on. I instead, can't wait to get to my room and hide under my blankets.

**

I fell asleep after rushing to my room after my encounter with Asher. I was too busy thinking about what he said while laying under the covers to realise that my eyes were getting droopy, so I ended up falling sleep. I'm awake now, and stretching my arms out over my head. I feel completely relaxed and let a lazy smile rest on my face.

I shove my blankets anyway, touching my forehead to see that I'm sweating. I've been cooped up in thick blankets while I was sleeping and was all sweaty now. I shove on my slippers and exit my room. When I get down stairs, I'm surprised to realise that their is loud chatter coming from my backyard. I scrunch my eyes up in confusion, lazily walking towards the commotion. On my way there, I pass the fridge that had a tiny note attached to it with a magnet. I squint my eyes at the note to see that it was mom telling my that her and dad would be out all night. There is dinner in the fridge and money on the counter in case I want to order in.

My parents are old-fashioned like that. Leaving notes around the house instead of texting me.

The noise only seem to grow louder, and soon enough music is playing. I walk towards the backroom with a grimace on my face. I was feeling a bit nauseous when I woke up, I didn't know why. That's why I was sweating so much. I feel my forehead and sure enough, I have a fever. The music is only increasing the ache in my forehead.

I trudge towards the sliding doors and loom through the transparent surface. Sure enough as I suspected, the backyard is filled with people. People that were not only on the Dunhill's part of the backyard, but on my family's part too. Anger grow nside of me, and I'm about to storm out of there and give Asher a piece of my mind, when I realise that I'm only in my robe. Never mind that, people won't even notice in the dark of the night. I tie my robe tightly and unlock the doors before sliding it open. How dare Asher think he can throw a 'small gathering' while our parents were out. He have some nerve. Our neighborhood is quiet and I'm sure that Mrs. Anderson who lives two houses away is already shaking in her wheelchair out of annoyance at the loud music.

I step outside cautiously, instead of storming outside like I planned to initially. I walk towards the pool area slowly whilst searching for Asher or any of his friends. I've never seen the majority of the people in my backyard at school. People are jumping in the pool, laughing, chatting loudly and playing games. I admit, it look absolutely fun. I will never admit that to Asher, however. And I'm too shy to even consider joining those people. Who was I kidding earlier on thinking I could be friends with Asher's type of people? I was clearly just making a fool out of myself.

I don't seem to find Asher anywhere, so I waddle in the cold towards his house instead. My head is pounding, and for some reason I can feel my fever rising. I don't know why I felt sick. Maybe I am coming down with the flu, even though it isn't flu season yet.

Stepping inside of Asher's backdoor was weird. I haven't been comfortable stepping inside of here ever since Asher started bullying me. The structure of his house was similar to mine, expect it was a bit bigger. I remember his room being on the second floor instead of the third floor like mine. I step past huddles of bodies drinking out of plastic cups and having conversations with one another. I hug myself tightly as some sort of a shield. The brightness of the light is exposing the fact that I am clad in my pajamas.

My eyes search the room for Asher, or even Becca. I'm still a bit hurt by the fact that she came over to visit me and ended up visiting Asher instead. I won't confront her about it, however, given that I am such a wuss. I finally spot Asher in the midst of a group of boys, with one girl accompanying one of their laps. I hide my grimace and try to signal for Asher to see me. He looks up towards me at my hand gestures, then ignores me.

The nerve!

I try a different approach and slide up besides him, trying to be as hidden from his friends as possible.

"Can we talk?" I nudge his arm, trying to get his attention. Luckily no one notices me and continues their conversation, which mostly consist of soccer and Xbox.

Asher turns to his side to look at me. "Had a nice sleep, Rosie?" He asks lightly. I'm surprised by his behaviour. He would usually threaten to kick me out of his house if it were any other occasion and his parents weren't around.

"How do you know I slept?" I wonder.

"Your face is red and there is pillow marks on your cheek," he moves his hand to touch my face. "Right over here."

I move my face away from his hand, acting appalled when infact I wasn't. "Okay. Now can we talk?"

"What about?" He asks.

"About this 'few' friends that you decided to invite to our backyard." I say in annoyance.

"Firstly, it's our backyard as you just said. And secondly, it's none of your business." He dismisses me quickly, before turning back to his friends.

I jab my finger into his shoulder harshly, calling him again.

"Ow," he scowls. "What the fuck do you want, Rosie?"

"My head is throbbing, and I'm pretty sure I have a fever. So please turn the music down lower." I plead. I'm already feeling light-headed, and just talking to him in this teenage-crowded place is giving me anxiety.

"Go to your room and shut the door. The music won't be that loud." He reasoned.

"No, it still is loud. Please just put it lower." My eyes shut slightly as I inhale deeply, my nausea starting to creep in.

"No, fuck off."

"I won't tutor you anymore." I threaten.

"You need to stop holding that against me. If you won't tutor me, then I'll find someone else. For fucks sakes."

"Asher," I begin to say, but step back weakly instead. The room is spinning, and my nausea is getting worse my the second. The loud music isn't even that loud, but the choice of music is still hurting my ears and head. I place a hand on my forehead and exhale deeply. I don't know why I decided to come here. I shouldn't of expected Asher to treat me like I was one of his friends, just because I was tutoring him. I'm a joke. That's what I am.

I rush away from him and the group of people, causing him to finally pay proper attention to me. I push past a girl which causes her beer to fly everywhere, hitting me straight into the face. Please no, please don't puke right now, Rosie. In front of all these people.

"You stupid idiot!" She exclaims. It just so happens that her alcoholic beverage is blood red, and spilled all over her bright pink dress.

All eyes fly towards me. I'm so embarrassed. I stare straight at Asher who's looking at me seriously, while his friends laugh on my behalf. It cannot get anymore humiliating. I'm finally able to tear my eyes away, and spin around to rush away. I mutter out an apology to the girl, and in a few seconds I'm out of there. I should have known that walking into the Dunhill's house could never be good.

Back in my house, I go straight to the bathroom to puke. I gargle and choke, trying to get lunch's food out of my throat. The liquid chyme falls out of my mouth like a waterfall, all of the food I'd consumed today landing into the toilet bowl. Just the sight of the puke makes me more nauseous. I cough one last time when sure that everything came out, before resting back on my butt on the cold tiles. I feel disgusted and my fever is still present.

I knew that I shouldn't have cooked lunch. My food is probably why I'm sick, as funny as it sounds. Slowly standing up after a few seconds, I grab my hair tie off of my wrist and tie my hair into a bun. After flushing the toilet, I brush my teeth and splash water over my face. I wash my side bangs out from the alcohol that was splashed onto it. When sure that it's all out, I grab a towel off of the rack before wiping my face dry and drying the small parts of my hair that is wet. I inhale deeply into the softness of the towel and sigh. Since I've puked, my nausea diminished a lot.

In my relaxed state, I remove the towel slowly and look into the mirror. I'm shocked to see Asher standing by the doorway, and I jump in fright, letting the towel fall out of my hands and into the sink. I spin around and hold onto the sink for support.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in bewilderment.

"I came to check it you're okay." He answered casually.

I scoff. "Okay. As if you care." I roll my eyes, but immediately regret it when my head pains. "Ow." I mumble.

Asher tilts his head as he analyses me. "What's the matter?"

"I have a fever so I think it's causing my head to pain." I answer.

"And I'm guessing you're the reason it smells like puke in here?" He asks rhetorically.

I burn in embarrassment and end up rushing out of the bathroom, pushing him out on my way and slamming the door shut.

"You should leave. Go entertain your friends. You clearly didn't care when I told you that I'm sick. So don't pretend to care now." I say, pushing past him to walk to the living room. The music is still playing, but I only hear it faintly now. He must have turned it down.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. You're just always being uptight so I thought you were having one of those moments." He says in apology, following after me. I sit down on the couch and lift my feet up to rest it on the coffee table. I expect Asher to sit next to me but he doesn't.

"Whatever. Leave me alone." I mumble.

"Do you have menthol rub?" He asks.

"What's that?" I sniffle, sinking into my robe.

"It's an ointment."

"I'm sure you'll find it in the bathroom cabinet." I answer. He turns around and heads toward the bathroom before opening it up. I scrunch my eyebrows up in confusion, staring at the doorway of the bathroom where he disappeared into. I hear shuffling around and cupboards opening, but I'm too tired to tell him off. Moments later he's back with a small tube in his hand.

I watch his every move like a hawk, till he sits down besides me. He's way too close and I'm unsure of what he's doing. I watch his hands while his unscrews the tube's cap off and squeeze's out a transparent looking ointment onto his fingers.

"Come closer." He orders softly. I instinctively move closer, till we're inches apart. I wait for his every move, until he lifts his hand up and smudges the ointment against my forehead. I flinch backwards at the coldness of it against my warm skin.

"What the hell are you-"

"Shhh." He hushes me softly, beginning to rub the ointment out onto my skin. I'm absolutely frozen, not knowing what to do at our proximity and contact, and the way he's being so gentle and affectionate with me. It's definitely new.

My eyes begin to droop and my shoulders relax as he massages my temples. I release an involuntary sigh. It is way more comfortable than I anticipated.

"So good." The words fall out of my mouth in a mumble before I could stop them. I pop an eye open and expect him to laugh and point fingers at me, but instead his face is serious and concentrated on massaging my forehead. The sensation of the ointment on my skin is strong and minty, and it burns. But it is a good burn, and my headache is slowly starting to get better. The silence feels comfortable, despite the faint noises of people outside.

He massages my temples one last time after two minites before pulling away. Disappointment settles inside of me when I don't feel his contact. My breathing is slow and relaxed, and my eyes slowly open. The room don't spin as it did before, and I swear he just made magic on me.

"Woah, thank you." I barely manage to say. I'm both shocked and feeling so much better.

"Is it better now?" He asks, his eyes gazing into mine.

I nod, not being able to form words.

"Good." He stands up from the couch, screwing the lid of the ointment back on before he bends down and places it on the coffee table.

I'm utterly disappointed that he is leaving, but also squealing like a girl on the inside by what just happened.

"You know, I used to get migraines a lot when I was a kid. My mom used to rub that ointment on my forehead." Asher says.

"That's sweet." I grin. "Thank you again."

"No problem." He nods, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Do you. . . Need anything else? Dinner?"

"I'm good, thank you." I say gratefully. I stand up from the couch as well.

"I'll see you at school then." He says, giving me a last look before he turns around.

I watch him walk away, and he's halfway to the kitchen, when a sudden boost of confidence fills me.

"Wait," I say loudly.

Mid-step, he turns around slowly.

"Yeah?"

"Won't you stay a bit longer?" I ask hopefully.

His eyebrows form an arch as he narrows his eyes, clearly taken aback by my question. He doesn't answer right away, but looks at me curiously.

"Why?"

It's a simple question, but I have a list of reasons as to why I want him to stay. The first being, I like the way he's acting. He's reminding me of the old Asher. The boy of my childhood, who belongs in some of my dearest and happiest memories. And who used to be both caring and affectionate.

"I don't want to be alone right now." My voice wobbles. That's reason number two.

His Adam's apple bob up and down. He's clearly contemplating my words. My heart drops when I realise that he is probably going to leave. I wait anxiously for his reply, fidgeting with my hair strands.

"Okay." He finally says. "I'll stay."

I'm so surprised I can barely form words, so I gulp deeply and nod my head. I sit down again onto the couch, and grab the tv remote. I turn the TV on with shaky hands, to distract myself from Asher who is feats away. He comes closer and sits down besides me. Our thighs brush and I have the urge to retract my leg out of instinct, but I leave it there instead, brushed up against his.

"What channels do you have?" He asks, placing his arm behind my head on the couch. I swallow deeply by the action, butterflies swarming by stomach.

"I assume every channel that you have." I answer.

"Can I see?" He asks. I nod and hand him the remote. He changes the channel to a sports one, and I suppress a groan. I hate sports channels. It is so boring. I don't say anything, however, afraid that he might leave.

We're engulfed in silence and I bite my lip, suppressing the urge to ask him a whole bunch of personal questions out of curiosity.

"Do you know exactly where our parents went?" I ask, keeping it neutral.

"No idea. All I know is it was for business." He answer shortly, playing close attention to the TV.

"What about Arielle? Is she in your house right now?" I ask in worry.

"Don't worry, she's with our parents." He assures, glancing down at me. I realise I'm looking at him, and look away quickly.

We stay silent for the next few minutes. I grow bored and drowsy from starting at the men on the TV kick a ball around. I find it tedious and end up resting my eyes. My chest is rising slowly and falling as I relax my state completely. I don't want to doze off but my eyes feel completely drowsy. My head tilts slowly to the side, till I'm resting it against Asher. I feel him tense.

I realise my mistake and try to move away when he stops me, swinging his arm around me.

"It's okay. Rest, Sweetheart."

Utter bliss.

***

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