Detention With The Bad Boy

ⅩⅫ - Pizza Tower, Blue Smurf and Racism

"PIZZA?"

My jaw dropped at the sight. Ashton is with a guy holding, I don't know how many, boxes of pizza. You heard me. P-I-Z-Z-A.

A tower of pizza, to be specific.

"Uh, hey there." Ashton says awkwardly, looking uncomfortable as ever.

I walked closer. My eyes racking the tower in disbelief. What the heck?

I jerked my thumb towards it, my expression crossed between confused and amazed. "What's this?"

"Uh—" He stammers. He scratched the back of his neck. "Just give me a second." He points at the metal seats, gesturing for me to sit down.

I nod slowly and glanced at the tower again. This is . . . Weird. Awesome, since it's pizzas, but weird. I took a seat and watched as Ashton handed the guy some money. The guy slowly places the tower at the bench and goes back out the exit, and after a minute or so, came back in, holding a box wrapped in teal blue.

Ashton gives me a fleeting glance of doubt before taking the box and shaking the hand of the guy. The guy exits and Ashton walked over to me.

He sits down beside me with a half smile on his lips. "Hey." He greets warmly.

My insides melt. He still cares. Even though I was a selfish bitch, he still cares.

"Hey." I smiled back. I peeked at the tower sitting on the bench. "So. . . Pizza?"

He laughs in embarassment and scratches the back of his head, looking silly. "Yeah, well. See. Earlier. We fought."

I nod. "Yeah, I know. I was there."

"Well, when I said that we should take a break. . ." He murmurs, his face falls. "It was kind of spur of the moment. The moment those words came out of my mouth, I regretted it. I really did, and I still do." He says quietly, his eyes full of sincerity.

"I wanted to take it back. I do. But then you agreed." He exhales sharply. "So, I guess I was hurt and then I asked you to pick. You didn't know."

"But Ashton, that wasn't what—"

"No, don't. That doesn't matter." He murmurs. His eyes found mine, and the connection is back. "My point is. I shouldn't have said those stuff. I'm sorry." He breathes out.

"I'm sorry too—"

He cutts me again. "And when I saw you earlier, when I saw you almost cry.." He closes his eyes and when he opens them again, they're filled with sadness. "I felt like a dick. It pained me to see you like that. Knowing that I was the reason for your reaction, it felt horrible. Really, really horrible."

"I look at you and I say, 'She's the one I want to be with.' Then I saw Marcus, and I got angry. Really angry." His hand curled up into a fist and his jaw twitches. "So, I said to myself would I let her go just because of a stupid fight? No. I won't."

I smiled softly. "And so you planned to get me back with pizzas?"

His lips curled upwards into a grin. "Yeah, well, I remember you telling me how much you love pizzas."

"Also, I was already planning to say sorry, get you back and do it in the cafeteria. I wanted to fix stuff up and surprise you, but . . . "

I slapped my forehead. "Oh my God, I ruined your surprise."

He chuckles and pulled my hand away from my forehead, and holds it. "Yeah, you kind of did." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "But atleast, you're here and we're alone. I wanted us to, you know. . . Can we talk?"