His knuckles are white against the steering wheel.
I knew something was wrong as soon as I woke up. Asher was sitting on the chair in his room, across from where I was sleeping just staring at the floor.
He looked like he was deep in thought- not even noticing I was awake until I said something.
Asher looked startled when I spoke, like something had scared him. What could possibly scare Asher?
I decided to brush past it, assuming that he was just tired.
He seemed in a rush to get us out of the house though, saying that he wanted to go out for breakfast through his teeth.
Asher rushed me out the door before I could even get dressed, chucking his hoodie at me and telling me that it doesn't matter what I wear.
I did what he even thought I was confused, trusting him.
He barely spoke to me until we got in the car, where I asked him where we were going.
"This place out of town. You'll love it."
He again, seemed tense and aggravated when he said it so I didn't say anything else, I just nodded and put on some music.
I have been staring out the window the entire drive.
He is gripping the steering wheel so hard and his posture is rigid and tense. I want to ask him what is wrong, but old thoughts creep in and I fear that he will get angry at me.
I must have done something wrong. I rack my brain through yesterday and the day before, trying to dig up something that he could be mad about.
Maybe he is annoyed that I made him sleep on the couch yet again. I tried to decline last night but he wouldn't budge. I probably should've tried harder to let him sleep. I internally scold myself for being so selfish.
We have been driving for awhile, and the time reads 10AM. We have been driving for about an hour- where is he taking me?
Another 5 minutes go by and we finally reach what looks like a small town, and Asher pulls into the parking lot of a small cafe. It looks like it is made up entirely of timber wood, and has a huge sign that reads 'Winner of the best pancakes in America.'
The car stops and I look to Asher, waiting for him to leave the car first. His eyes are trained in front of him, unmoving.
I can't get my thoughts to slow down. I've never seen Asher angry. What if he gets violent?
No, he won't. Asher wouldn't.
I'm only worrying myself further with these thoughts so I try to block them out. Whatever happens can't be worse than what I've already endured with Logan.
He takes a deep breath and exits the car, coming over to my side and opening my door for me. This minor action reminds me that even though his mood changed, Asher is still Asher.
I smile at him and he gives a small one back, clearly struggling.
We go into the restaurant and the smell of sugar and syrup immediately enters my nostrils. I'm not complaining though. It reminds me of freshly baked cookies.
Asher sits down at a booth in the corner and I follow him, sitting down across from where he is.
I want to scoot closer to him and take his hand. I know that is what he would do if he could tell I was feeling anxious.
The silence is loud, but not awkward. I can tell that Asher doesn't want to talk, and I respect that.
So I decide to say whatever stupid thing comes to my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Then and now
Подростковая литератураAmira and Asher were inseparable from the ages of 1-13. How could they not be? They lived right beside each other, and they were the best of friends. Nothing could separate them. But suddenly, Asher's dad got a new job in New York and he had to mo...
