Cure II 5SOS au

Chapter Six

Ashton's P.O.V.

"How about this one?" I asked as I turned away from the mirror, adjusting the bottom of the black shirt I had just pulled over my head. Cecelia hummed from where she sat on the edge of my bed, raising her eyebrows but not glancing away from her phone screen.

"Cece, you didn't even look," I sighed. Her gray eyes flicked up to me.

"It's fine, Ashton. Just like the last fifteen shirts you tried on were."

"But 'fine' isn't really what I'm going for." I turned back to the mirror on my closet door and inspected myself in it. Cecelia and I were going to Luke's to watch the latest movie release, and we had invited Kathryn as well. It wasn't that Kathryn expected me to look like I had just stepped off the runway or anything, but I wanted to look nice. The shirt I wore now was one of my favorites, and therefore one she had already seen me wear a million times. I wondered if I should go casual with a t-shirt, or something more sophisticated like a sweater? Obviously, Cece was no help in my decision either. She came over almost an hour ago, ready and raring to go. She wasn't too pleased to jump in on my process, which was weird because she was always telling me to 'dress nicer', or 'wear those shoes, they look better', or 'that shirt doesn't match those pants'.

"Ashton, we're going to be late if you don't pick something." Cecelia shifted in her seat and looked back to her phone, mindlessly flipping her thumb over the screen.

"I know, I know, but I want to look nice for Kathryn," I admitted out loud, although I'm sure Cece already knew that was the reason why we hadn't left yet.

"Oh for god's sake, Ashton," Cecelia groaned and set her phone down, walking over to me with purpose. She shoved past me to the dresser, ruffling through my messy drawers before pulling out a soft green button down and plain black shirt.

"There," she said, throwing the clothes at me, "you look best in these." I barely caught the shirts as she grabbed her phone and left the room, her footsteps echoing through the rest of the apartment. I pulled on the new clothes and rushed after her.

"Let's go then," I said, walking out of the bedroom to find her sitting on the couch and flipping through a magazine she must have left over here once.

"So you'll look at a fashion magazine but won't help your best friend choose which shirt to wear?" I spoke with a smirk, taking the magazine out of her hands and dropping it on the counter as I walked to the door. She rolled her eyes, following me out into the hallway.

"You seem to be forgetting that I chose what you're wearing right now," she raised an eyebrow at me. We walked through the halls and took the elevator down to the ground floor.

The car ride to Luke's was unusually silent. Again I wondered if something was up with Cecelia; it wasn't normal for her to be so quiet. Even though we drove to see Luke almost every day, we somehow always found something to talk about. I tried to ask her what was up a few times, but she just smiled and assured me she was fine. Finally, after what felt like hours, we made it to the duplex. Cecelia and I wordlessly got out of my truck and made our way up to the door. When we had barely reached the steps, I stopped and turned to her.

"Cece, wait."

"Yes?" she sounded confused, looking at me questioningly.

"Look, I don't know if I did something or said something, but I feel like you're mad at me." I blew out a breath, brushing a hand through my hair.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I'm really not, Ashton. I mean I didn't particularly enjoy sitting through your own version of America's Next Top Model for almost an hour," she smirked, "but I'm not mad about it. I get the same way sometimes."