Ashley ✓

Fourteen | Colder

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SOTC: Just Like Fire by P!NK

"Girl, no! Stephen's the OG lover, so he gotta get the girl A.K.A Elena Gilbert!" Sienna countered.

Francesca clapped her hands after each word. "But Damon is SEXY!"

Back at school, Sienna, Francesca, and I sat on one of the squeaky red outside tables before class, which all equated to each other in the shittiness they were manufactured. Anyway, we fought over which men proved more suitable for Elena Gilbert in the Vampire Diaries. Sienna and Francesca invited me to watch this show they began watching every Saturday so I could offer insight on it.

When we first started watching it, which was about three weeks ago, I got a job at Garage in the mall. From the money I was able to dress myself in clothes such as the white tank and cream shorts I paired with beige sandals, which I wore today.

I wasn't Ashley anymore, but I felt good in the clothes I wore now.

"Anyway, we can't get to clingy with any of the brothers. We're still on, like, the first season," I explained.

"Girl, why you always gotta be the voice of reason?" Francesca jokingly whined.

I shrugged.

"Anyways, you two see what the West High Instagram posted?" Sienna asked.

"No," Francesca and I chimed at the same time.

She continued with, "Well, they're saying some kid gonna being a gun and shoot themself in the school."

Francesca yawned out a, "Some people in this school talk crazy." As she stretched her arms outward.

Well that's a lovely topic...

Sienna suddenly picked up her phone as it buzzed, scowling. "Damn it! I'll be right back."

With that, Sienna left the table and jogged out of sight.

"Girl, you know if—" Suddenly, Francesca released a squeak in a pitch higher than the ozone layer as she ducked under the table.

I raised my eyebrows. "Wha—"

"He's behind you!" she quivered from under it.

"Who's he?" I twisted my head as far as it could go without my torso moving. Behind me was just the sea of West High students, within them being a group of very tall guys in the distance, one being—

"Fedor!"

I whipped my head to her again she she squeaked it out.

"Is he gone yet?" she proceeded to gasp.

"Yes," I said impulsively.

"Thank god!" Francesca resumed to a normal sitting position, gasping as if she spent three minutes submerged in the Mariana Trench before peering behind my shoulder. "Ashley, you said he was gone!" Francesca's sharp whispers exited through her teeth.

"Why are you trying to hide from him?" I asked her upfront.

She stuttered out a, "Well, I um... sorta, um..."

"What?"

This girl ranted faster than Eminem, "I may or may not have had a crush on him since Eighth grade but I'm insanely terrified on him because he's really hot. And if he even thought I'd notice him I'd be so embarrassed because I'm literally scared off him— plus he's my best friend's brother."

All I could get out my mouth after a pause was a:

"You don't say?"

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Even when I attended Mother Teresa, I despised the school bathroom. The people that always hung out in there induced my skin to crawl in utter disdain, and I know in my cold dead heart these spaces were the reason Jesus never came back.

Is the talk of Jesus pretty rich for me?

Maybe a bit, but shut the fuck up, anyway.

Back to the subject. Today, I reaaaally had to pee and I didn't want to keep thinking about sex (it psychologically tricks your brain into relieving pressure off yourself) so I ventured to this ratchet place in West High.

It was when I was finally washing my hands when I heard a voice say, "Let's talk a little, bitch."

And my blood ran colder than the water.