Half Hearted

Chapter Twenty Four

| Ash |

They were at the store - the one in which he'd made the first phone call to Teresa - to buy some milk, but Ash found himself shying away and going to the canned food aisle instead.

Just then, he had to control every muscle in his body to stop himself from outright kissing her.

Her eyes were so lusciously dark, he found himself lost whenever he looked at them.

The thoughts kept running through his head until Teresa came by, holding up the carton of milk and telling him that she was done. "Do you need anything?"

Ash shook his head, trying to shake himself out of the daze. Then they left for the house again.

They didn't say anything else. They just walked alongside each other, trying to make the uncomfortable silence seem not so awkward.

But the truth was inevitable - there was tension building up.

"You can just make yourself at home," she stated as she took off her coat and stumbled to race up the stairs. "I'l be - uhm - doing... something."

He nodded, his hand lingering on the coat zipper.

What are you doing? Have you gone completely mad? A month ago you hated this girl.

His thoughts were right.

He did hate her when he'd first met her, but somewhere along the way he found herself being drawn to her odd personality.

Cheryl was everything she wasn't. All Cheryl wanted to do was go to parties and upload photos on Instagram or Facebook. She was the exact replica of him, and he hated himself for it.

He shook his head, sitting on their beige couch. He was skipping through cable channels when Teresa's dad came along. "Nothing to do?" The man asked him, holding a wrench in hand.

Ash nodded, turning off the TV and turning his attention. He still wasn't in the mood to talk, for some reason.

"Mind helping me in the garage?"

So Ash and Teresa's dad got to work in the garage, on a motorcycle that Ash didn't know anything about. He knew how to drive, but he wasn't much in favour of driving - as 'badass' as he seemed.

"I'm Bill, by the way. It's best to call me Bill instead of anything else," he stated, taking out a part and wiping it down with a damp cloth. "Do you know how to work an engine?"

"No," Ash admitted, rolling up his sleeves in anticipation for dirty work.

"Well, that's alright," Bill huffed, getting low and placing something somewhere - Ash was still clueless on what was happening to the motorcycle. "Would you hand me the screwdriver?"

The work went on for about an hour until the old man wanted a break. Sweat was dripping down the sides of his face, and Ash was still as pristine as ever.

Mid-way through finishing his glass of water, the old man spoke. "You know, I find it funny how she chose you."

Ash raised his eyebrow, waiting on Bill to elaborate. "Huh?"

"She never wanted anything to do with boys that had tattoos, or boys that had piercings, so I was surprised when you came here with her."

"No, she's just siding with me for a job," Ash shook his head, staring down at his roughed up hands. "She'd be gone from my sight if my manager hadn't offered her the job in the first place."

"You see, that's the thing. She chose the job. And the Teresa back then wouldn't have thought twice about rejecting it. There's just something - someone - different, and I figured that it's you."

He stayed silent until Bill finished his glass of water, and then they left to go work on the motorcycle again. But while they did, Ash couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said. What's so different about me? He thought to himself.

Was it because he was famous?

Was it because he was better looking than the average guy with tattoos and piercings? And there went his narcissistic nature again.

Hell he'd lost his edge since he hadn't smoked in a while. He had already tried quitting when he was with Cheryl, but what gave him such great motivation that he hadn't bothered to pick up a cigarette in three whole weeks?

He couldn't handle the curiosity. "Uhm-Bill?"

"What is it?" He demanded, sitting up from the ground. "Hand me the rag."

"Why wouldn't Teresa want to be around me?" He asked, handing the old man the greased up rag thrown on the stairs. "I mean, everyone doesn't, but it seems like there's more of a story there."

"Well, it's a hectic story, that one," Bill shook his head, wiping down the engine.

Ash realized the personal space he'd be invading if he asked Teresa's father instead of Teresa herself. "Sorry, I don't have to know."

"I'm telling you kid," the old man stated, wiping his forehead with the collar of his shirt. "I've known that girl for twenty-two years, and I know when she's up to something. And believe me, I think you need to know everything."

So Ash listened, and his ears perked up as he sat on the stairs. Bill sat up too, taking a break from the minor labour.

"It all started when this family moved to town. No one knew them, and no one knew why they'd come - since our town's about as entertaining as the Sahara - but we were all curious. Teresa, she was seventeen at that time, was the most curious. So, she did her stalking - which she called investigation. My wife and I didn't bother, at that time. If someone's curious, there's no stopping them until they get the information, so she got her information all right. She met a boy from that family. A boy like you - all tatted up with ear piercings and whatnot. Anyways, long story short she 'fell in love' with the kid. And he took an... interest in her. Only thing was that he was seven years older than her."

The man sucked up a breath before proceeding.

"When we found out about that, we tried stopping her. Of course she thought he was her soulmate, so we couldn't have done anything. All we did was make her stay at home, but that made things worse. She snuck out one night to go to this guy's house - he was hosting a party over there. And it was the typical party with drugs and alcohol, you know, teenage stuff. And so she went over there not knowing how a party was run. It was her first night outing, and she didn't know any of the precautions..."

There was a long pause where Bill just sat there, staring at the motorcycle. Ash was about to call it quits - since the expression on the old man's face seemed pained - but Bill kept on going with his story.

"The son of a bitch popped a pill in her drink and drugged her. He was about to rape her too, only if Tyler weren't there to beat him to a pulp. And that's where you come in..."

Bill's words became muted in Ash's head as he spoke.

So many emotions were going through his head.

Part of it was jealousy. It was Tyler who had come in to save her? Did they have some sort of feelings for each other?

Another of it was guilt. Every time she saw me, she could have ignored me like everyone else. She held resentment over people like me, and yet she chose to help?

And the last - anger. She was on the verge of being raped?

Ash felt the rage boiling inside of him. The thought of Teresa being taken advantage of - hell, the thought of some sick pervert dropping a pill in her drink made him clench his fists in anger.

"Where is that guy now?" Ash asked, the words coming through his teeth.

Bill shook his head with his lips pressed into a thin line. "He's dead, kid. Hung himself the next night."

{ Author's Note 

Reeeaaally random backstory - I don't even know where I was heading with this.

Sorry guys, I thought I wouldn't veer too far off from a realistic story, but my imagination just kind of took a mind of it's own.

Hopefully I go back to being realistic ._.

~ QB }