Lovelorn

Chapter Two : Rowan

"No, you have to promise me Ro," Asher says, gripping the white paper with our classroom numbers on it.

"This is stupid Asher. We're gonna be friends forever, a different homeroom won't change that," I say rolling my eyes.

"I know we say it all the time, but this is different. You make friends easier than me. What if we get different homerooms and never see each other? And then you make all new friends, and forget about me," He says. I grab his hand and say,

"You know that's not going to happen Ash. I could never forget about you," We lock eyes and I shove his shoulder, "Now stop being such a baby, and open the envelopes," I say laughing. His hands shake as he peels them both open, backwards. "On the count of three?" I ask.

"One, two, three," He counts down, and flips them both over at the same time. One says Mr. Ledger and the other says Mrs. Elrod. I didn't expect to feel sad seeing two different names, but I do. Asher and I have been in the same homeroom since grade two. Originally we weren't supposed to be in the same class, but our moms asked the school to make a special arrangement. I was new to town with no friends, and Asher was bad at making friends. Since we lived next door to each other, and our moms had been hanging out a lot, they thought it would be easy for us to become friends. "See, I told you Ro. I could feel it," He says as his shoulders slump. I want to say 'I know, I could feel it too. And I already feel further away from you' but know if I start worrying too he won't sleep at all tonight. So instead I say,

"You couldn't feel it dummy, you're just a naturally negative person. This won't change anything," I say, but Asher still doesn't look up. "Let's go. Mom has to drive us to the movies now or else we'll miss the previews," Asher loves previews.

"Okay, sure," He says.

                                                                                                     ~

I lean across the couch and peer into the kitchen, the time on the stove reads 7:38. Asher should have gotten home from soccer at 7:15, so I figure it's safe for me to head over to his place. I put on my faded pink sandals and jog across my lawn. When I reach the front door, it's locked. I can't remember the last time Asher has left the front door locked. I come over every night, and if I'm not planning on hanging out I take down the sticky note hanging on my bedroom window to signal to him that I'm busy. The last time he locked the door on me was in third grade. We'd gotten in a fight at school over me choosing him last for his basketball team, and when I'd come over later to apologize the door was locked. 

But we haven't gotten into a fight recently. What could he possibly be mad at me for? This can't be about the homerooms, there's no way. He was the one begging me we would stay friends forever yesterday! And today he quite literally locks me out of his life? I knock and wait a few minutes, but the mosquitoes start attacking me so I decide to give up. If he thought having different homerooms was enough to throw our friendship away then I didn't want it. I drag my feet across the lawn and slump back down on the couch to finish my episode of ICarly. "Hey bug, whatchu up to?" Dad asks, shaking my shoulders from behind me.

"Nothing," I groan.

"Well it doesn't sound like nothing. What's gotten into my girl, huh?" He presses.

"I went to see Asher and he had the front door locked," I say.

"Uh oh, you two fighting?" He asks, arching a brow.

"No. That's what I don't get," I say, kicking off my shoes onto the carpet.

"Hm, well mom headed over there a while ago, maybe they're having a serious talk and didn't want you walking in on them," He suggests.

"Doubt it. When they have their talks they go into Mrs. Williams' room. We can always tell because they bring the wine," I explain.

"Maybe Asher went for ice cream with the team after the game?" He says.

"Yeah I guess. I'm just gonna go to bed. I'll ask him tomorrow," I say.

"Okay bug. Goodnight, love you," He says

"Love you too," I say already half up the stairs. I feel a glimpse of hope when I realize that there's a chance my sticky note fell down on its own. Afterall, it has been months since I last replaced it. I jog up the last few steps and down the hall, but all hope fades as I walk in my room and see my sticky note hanging where it always is in the middle of my window. I walk closer and notice Asher's lamp is on in his room, and his shadow is slumped over at his window seat. Unbelievable. I rip down the old sticky note, crumple it up and toss it on the floor.

The last time I took down that sticky note was three months ago when I caught a terrible spring cold. I was sick for a week, and even though the sticky note was down, Asher still brought me over my favourite smoothie. He said he had to beg his mom for two days to go get it for him. I rip my curtains closed and stomp over to my bed, pull the covers up to my chin and shut my eyes. I toss and turn angrily for a few minutes before giving up and chucking my pillow across the room. It hits the picture of me and Asher hanging on my wall. I laugh dryly, how ironic. But then the tears come. I flop onto my back and let the tears stream down my face and into my ears.

                                                                                                 ~

I startle awake when the front door closes, not even realizing I'd fallen asleep. Rubbing my sleep filled eyes, I roll over and check the time, 1:54am. I can hear hushed whispering coming from the kitchen. It takes my brain a moment to catch up, but then I realize mom must be home. Maybe she knows why Asher is mad at me. I open my bedroom door but then I pause when I hear mom say, "Yes, just like that. In the middle of the night."

"What about Asher? Did he at least go say goodbye?" Dad whispers.

"No," mom says, her voice cracking. "I've never seen him like this Peter. I mean, can you imagine? His own father?" She chokes out.

"Shhh, it's okay honey," dad says, I creep out into the hallway further and bend down. I can see dad hugging mom while her shoulders shake. Mr. Williams left? Maybe she means on another business trip. But why would mom be crying over a stupid business trip? And that wouldn't bother Asher, his dad leaves all the time for work. I head back to my room and look out the window once more. The lights are still on in Asher's room, and I feel a strong urge to run to him, to hold him, but he doesn't want me to. That much was made clear. So, I close my curtains and drag myself back to bed.