Half Hearted

Chapter Twenty Five

| Teresa |

Ash had been acting very odd.

It was bad enough that I felt awkward around him - what with all my unnecessary zipping - but he was making things worse.

My mom and I were preparing dinner, and Ash and dad had finished in the garage. They cleaned themselves up a bit, and then sat at the table. 

Whenever I looked at him he would always clench his jaw and then pretend as if he didn't see me looking. I knew that he knew. He had as good peripheral vision as I did.

For the whole meal I didn't bother asking him what was wrong; I just enjoyed the last dinner at my old house. 

But then it got weird after dinner.

I told my parents that I'd take care of cleaning up, since we were leaving tomorrow morning, and I stood up to head to the sink. 

"Don't," Ash stated, standing up and heading over there himself. He sounded rough. Mysterious. "I'll do this. Just go sleep."

Trying to comprehend what he'd just said, I tilted my head at him. "Why are you acting like this?"

He didn't bother turning around to face me. He just started washing the dishes. "You've gotta stay awake in the bus tomorrow, you'll need to sleep."

"Why?" I pestered him, not satisfied with his petty answer. "This takes less than half an hour. Why?"

He stayed quiet as he soaped the dishes the way I taught him yesterday. I went along with him, staying quiet and pushing the chairs in. I wiped the table and stood beside him in front of the sink. "I told you I'd do it."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're acting weird," I pushed, turning on the tap and rinsing off a mug. 

Ash sighed, giving up. 

The 'need to know' grew in me as we finished our last little bit of cleaning. "What happened in the garage with you and my dad?"

He stared out the window, completely avoiding eye contact.

To counter this, I stared out the window too, making eye contact through our reflections. "Are you really not going to tell me?"

He let out a breath, wiping his hands on his jeans. And then all in the blink of an eye his dead-serious expression turned somber. "Do you hate me?"

I felt myself taken aback. What was with this random question? "Why would you ask that?"

"Just answer it."

I thought for a moment, and then came up with the truth. "No, I don't."

"Do you wish I didn't have... Tattoos? Piercings?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, oblivious. But then the puzzle pieces started fitting together perfectly. They were in the garage for the whole day. Of course it would come up. "How much did he tell you?" I asked, grinding my teeth.

"Enough for me to know that you should hate me," Ash answered. I didn't give him time to explain.

I felt steam blowing through my ears as I rushed up the stairs and barged into my parents' room.

I knew they were never big on keeping secrets, but this? This was out of line.

| Ash |

Ash watched her stomp up the stairs, silently regretting his choice of words. You shouldn't have even mentioned anything, you twat.

He stayed seated at the couch before he heard yelling coming from upstairs. Deciding he'd best be out of the house while they dealt with their conflict, Ash headed outside of the house, not bothering to put on a coat.