Could this be love?

Chapter eighteen

I saw Ashley's smile fade as he took in my arms. I saw the look of disgust form in his eyes that he wore when he saw Kina's cuts.

 “Andy.” He said harshly, pointing at my arms. “What the fucking hell is this? Are you… Do you… Do you fucking cut yourself?”

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Andy’s Point of View

I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t just deny the fact that I cut when the evidence was staring him right in the face, now could I?

I couldn’t just say, “Oh no dude. I don’t cut, of course not. Those are cat scratches. Wanna go get dinner now?” And skip away happily.

That was fucking impossible. For one, he knows I don’t even have a cat. Hell, none of my friends had cats. Another thing, these cuts were obviously not cat scratches. They looked more like a fucking lion attacked my arm.

In the end, I decided to stay silent because I didn’t know what to say.

“Andy, seriously. What the fuck is this?” Ashley hissed, reaching over to grab my arm. I pulled it away quickly, but not quick enough. He managed to grab hold of my wrist with his nails, and when I pulled away he dug his nails into the fresh wounds. I yelped in pain and Ashley quickly let go, concern replacing the anger for a quick second. But then it was gone, and only disgust and something like hate was visible on his face.

“Get dressed.” He said before turning away. “We need to talk, and I refuse to do this here.” He practically slammed the change room door behind him, causing me to jump.

I stood frozen for a few seconds, staring after Ashley. Tears began to form in my eyes and I just let them fall.

“Andy, hurry the fuck up.” Ashley hissed from the other side of the door.

I broke out of my trance and pulled the t-shirt over my head, no longer caring that it was going to mess up my hair. I threw it in a corner and bent down to grab my long sleeved shirt. I pulled it over my head, hissing when the fabric brushed over the already irritated cuts on my forearms. Not daring to look in the mirror, I slowly opened the door. Ashley was waiting for me, leaning against the wall closest to the change room I was in, doing something on his phone. When he heard the door creak open, he looked up.

“Let’s go.” He said bluntly.

I didn’t say anything; I just nodded sadly.

We walked to his car in complete silence. Ashley wouldn’t even look at me, he just stared straight ahead the whole entire walk. A few times, I tried grabbing his hand, but he just sharply pulled away from me.

Finally, we made it to his car. He unlocked the door and climbed in. I took a deep breath in preparation of what was coming, and opened the door. Again, Ashley refused to look at me. He sat with his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, staring blankly out the front window.

Only after I climbed in and closed the door softly behind me did he speak.

“How long?” He asked between clenched teeth.

Ashley’s Point of View

“How long?” I asked harshly.

Andy remained silent.

“How long?” I asked again. This time the question came out louder and harsher.

“Since about grade eight.” He said quietly.

I considered this for a moment, my hands tightening their grip on the wheel.

“So,” I started, remaining surprisingly calm. “You’re one of them.”