Heartbreak Girl

Part 1

It was dark outside by the time the twenty one year old turned onto the quiet street. The orange glow from the streetlights highlighted the mass of curls atop his head, which threw his face into shadow; his eyes were on the pavement beneath his feet and his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

Walking up the drive of a small house and passing a slightly battered blue Vauxhall, he pulled a keyring out of his pocket, opening the front door and letting himself inside, leaving the cool January evening behind him.

"Anyone home?" he called out, closing the door behind him and kicking his shoes off. "Cal? Luke?"

"Ashton?" replied a voice from the kitchen, making him frown slightly. Leaving his bag at the bottom of the stairs, he moved further into the house, searching for the owner of the voice. Entering the kitchen, he found a young woman, her dark hair tied in a ponytail over her shoulder, headphones leading from the pocket of her jeans up to her ear.

"Bethany? What are you doing here?" he asked, noticing that she was putting the washing up away. "Better yet, how did you get in?"

"Michael gave me a key," she explained with a smile, removing her headphones and tucking them in her pocket. "Said I was here more often than not, so I might as well have my own key."

"Did you do our washing up?" he questioned as he realised what she was doing, a confused frown on his face.

"I got bored," she told him, blushing as she continued with her task. "No one was here when I arrived, so I thought I'd wait for Mikey, and well..."

"He was going to the movies with the others," said Ashton, going over to help her. "I was meant to go with them, but my lecture ran over. You're welcome to stay, though; I'm not gonna kick you out."

"I don't want to impose," she protested. "I know you guys only put up with me because I'm Michael's best friend. I can leave if you'd rather."

"You did our washing up; the least I can do is let you stay and offer you tea," he argued with a smile, watching her attempts to reach the top shelf for mugs. "And I've known you for two years now, Bethany; you're my friend, not just Michael's."

"That makes me feel a lot better about being here when Michael isn't," she agreed, frowning when she failed to get the mugs she wanted.

"Let me," he told her, trying not to smile so she wouldn't think he was teasing her for being too short. Resting a hand on the small of her back, he easily stretched to retrieve them, setting them down in front of her. "Besides, you know you've won us over when you have a box of your fruit tea in our cupboard; especially when we replace it without prompting from you."

When she laughed and gave him a gentle shove, Ashton set about filling the kettle and making drinks for them, managing to convince the brunette to stay for the evening. As they waited, Bethany pushed herself onto the counter so she was eye level with the younger man, discussing his day and what film his housemates were watching without them. Once they both had mugs warming their hands, he led her into the living room, sitting at the other end of the sofa so he could face her.

"You never answered my question," he told her as she sipped her tea.

"Which one?" asked Bethany, her green eyes meeting his for a minute before he looked away.

"Why are you here?" he clarified, leaning back the arm of the sofa. "I thought Michael said you were out with Greg tonight; that's why we didn't invite you to the cinema." Seeing her smile fade, he knew he had hit a sore topic.

"He said he had work to do," she mumbled into her mug, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"So that's three times he's ditched you in as many weeks?" he questioned softly, not wanting to upset her.