Little Miss Nosy

Carmen Martinez

- Edited -

"That was a wicked punch, but if you want the girl that's not the way to do it," I say, unwinding the blue sweet from it's white cone and plopping it in my mouth. "Want a piece?"

Ashton rejects the offer, pushing the cotton candy away and sighing, "I don't want the girl." 

"Oh, please! That's a load of crap and we both know it." Paige may navigate the world with her head down and blinders on, but I don't. Ashton wears this I-don't-give-a-shit expression for others, but he's a softy when it comes to her. "I see how you look at her." 

Ashton doesn't deny anything, and instead gives me a tight-lipped smile before facing the empty football field again. I snag another piece of cotton candy and smirk triumphantly. 

We're both shit starters. Although I haven't had many private conversations with him, the ones I have had always involved the assumption that one of us would walk away the victor—constantly one upping the other until the loser was left grasping at straws. 

"I have a soft spot for her...doesn't mean I'm trying to get her in bed," he says. 

"Whatever it is, you don't want to scare her off. Paige is, you know, soft and sunshine and fluff...all that handle with care stuff. I get you hit Logan as a way of defending her or something, but she won't see it as that. Things tend to go over her head-" 

"She knows more than you think," Ashton interrupts, stretching his arms and legs out on the surrounding bleachers. He tilts his head, looking at me lazily. "Or at least she's on the right path."

I squirm under his gaze, an action he doesn't miss as the corners of his lips tilt into a cocky smirk. "With help, perhaps? What have you told her?" 

He shrugs. "Nothing. And I don't plan on doing so. That's your job."

We engage in a bit of a staring contest, and I'm the first to look away. Him and I both know I can't do that. 

"She won't understand," I utter. I set the cotton candy down next to me, the treat suddenly tasting too sweet to digest. 

"But she'll find out sooner or later. And when she does...how do you think she'll react to your holier-than-thou approach?"

I don't respond, and instead tap my foot against the metal beneath us to stay occupied on something other than lashing out. Anger has always been my go-to because it's easier for me to process than guilt and sadness. Anger is something I can target at others and move on with quickly while the latter is what I have to personally sit and deal with. 

I've been trying to do better for Paige and Trevor. Trying and failing in more ways than one. I love them both, but I can feel myself evolving into someone entirely different. Someone who has screwed up too many times now that a simple apology won't suffice. Someone who has moved past regretting the decisions they've made. 

"You trying to make me reflect and feel guilty? Well, stop; because you can't and I don't," I snap. 

He quirks a brow. "So, you just get off on being like this?" 

"Like what? A terrible person? Because I'm not. Nothing I've ever done was with malicious intent. I'll own up to how toxic this relationship is when the time is right. Until now..." I place a finger over my lips as to say 'not a word.' Though I know I don't have to. 

He may be an ass, but Ashton knows how to keep his mouth shut. 

"I didn't say you're a terrible person," he says, feigning confusion. "Guilty mind, perhaps?"

Without thinking I pick up the cotton candy cone and launch it at Ashton. He easily blocks the paper attack with a swift move of his head. "You're a fucking fake, Ashton. You think you're slick? Quietly moving through these halls and collecting other people's dirt just to taunt them with it every once in a while? So, tell me. What really made you hit Logan like that? I doubt you'd do it just because he's dating Paige. There's history between you two and I'm guessing it goes deeper than just "summer camp." Spill it." 

I can't tell whether or not I backed him into a corner. If I did, he does well in hiding it. "You're right." My jaw drops with his easy confirmation. "Summer camp? That was a good one from Peters, but, eh, not quite the truth." 

"So what is?" I lean in like we're exchanging gossip at a coffee shop, but Ashton doesn't take the bait. 

"I'm not telling you anything. You were careless enough to get caught. Now God only knows how many people know what you've been up to," he says incredulously.

"Only two! Including you," I scoff. 

"Guess I'll just leave you with a to-be-continued then." Ashton presses his phone screen for the third time in under a minute. Like the other times it lights up with no new notifications. "Where is she?" he whispers.

"Where is who?" I ask. He doesn't answer, doesn't even flinch at my voice and instead continues to tap away at his phone screen. "You know, this whole friend thing involves conversation. Getting to know each other, answering questions...the list goes on." 

The football field is almost empty now with the exception of a few shady people hanging around the perimeter. It's hard to believe that a lively event took place here not even an hour ago. With the people, lights, and high energy atmosphere gone it's nothing but a ghost town. 

I shiver and glance at my own screen impatiently.

"Do you really want to be friends, or is it all an act to seem like a good person to Paige and Trevor?"

"Damn, you figured out my evil plan," I say half-jokingly. I don't care if I can call Ashton a friend or not, but the friendlier I am to him, the more I can get Paige and Trevor off my back. 

And the more likely Ashton is to keep his word. 

Both our phones chime at the same time, making us jump and hold on to them like a lifeline. 

'I'm here. Our usual spot'

'We got about 5 mins'

My heart begins to race like it usually does at a moment like this. I should be past feeling this crappy. I want to be past it, but our bodies have a way of signaling to us that something is wrong even if our minds think all is well. 

There's shuffling on my right. Ashton is on his feet but instead of walking away as expected, he looks down at me. From his height and the way his steely eyes travel from me to my phone; I feel small. 

Disapproval swims in his eyes and I don't want to care, but I do. I hold the phone screen to my chest so he doesn't see anything even though it doesn't matter at this point.

"You don't feel guilty, huh?" he asks. I inhale sharply, wanting so desperately for this conversation to end. I can easily do that by simply walking away but my body feels heavy, chest tight as the words Ashton speaks filters through my ears and settles on every sensitive part of my being. 

He continues, "I sleep well at night knowing my dirty laundry doesn't affect anyone but me. Can you say the same?" 

He leaves then and even though he's frustrating, the absence of his presence unsettles me more than when he was plucking my nerves. 

This round goes to Ashton.

My fingers hover over the keyboard as I deliberate my response. I can give into the nagging voice in my head and refuse. Despite being quieter than before, it's still there, whispering to whatever part of me still feels shame. But I'm in too deep to turn back now. 

'coming'

I hit send before I have a chance to rethink and stand on shaky legs.