Hope Everlasting. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter Ten-Numb.

A/N; I finally updated! AND I survived my first week back at school after hospital, in a wheelchair. It wasn’t too bad, actually and since I’ve passed a lot of subjects, I’m getting free periods to write regularly. Normally, updates will probably be a bit more frequent once I get into the flow of things, but I still managed to write this. :D It’s a filler again, but as you can tell very important to the overall story. We’re still doing well on the lists, so thanks SO much for voting and all! Your support is what keeps me going so thanks a bunch. Next update will be...hm, I don’t know. Probably early next week, or POSSIBLY this weekend if I write super fast. Enjoy! Oh and for tomorrow, Happy Guy Fawkes night! (I just thought that because there are fireworks going off outside, hehe. xD) Enjoy and let me know what you think.. :33

Chapter Ten-Numb.

Ashlynn’s P.O.V

The next few days passed in a confusing blur. I heard nothing more from Hope--I’m not too sure if I was grateful for this, or not. My relationship with Dylan grew over that time--neither of us mentioned that night, as if there was some unspoken agreement between us to keep the subject tabooed. Cory seemed to be keeping an extraordinarily strange watch on us both--it was almost like we’d gained our own personal stalker.

He didn’t seem to be hanging out with his normal jock lot, either. Dyl and I would be in our own place, and there he’d be. Watching us, as ever.

Dylan didn’t like Cory, I was certain of that. And something--although I didn’t know what--told me that he had something to do with Dyl’s bleeding nose, too.  Not that I mentioned it, of course.

All I knew is that, every time Cory came near us, a certain anger filled Dylan’s dark brown eyes, making them almost look beetle black. People might take the micky out of him, but when Cory’s about, I certainly wouldn’t doubt his strength.

Between feuding, testosterone filled boys and me doubting my own sanity, I still hadn’t worked up the courage to confront my parents about their argument the other night. I had decided, once the shouts had settled down and I’d calmed down enough to think logically, that asking my Dad was the best way to go.

I’d always been a Daddy’s girl and I’m pretty sure, with the right approach, that I’d be able to at least get something out of him. There was no way, no way at all that they were getting away with keeping secrets from me. After everything, after all we’ve been through, they still think they can’t trust me enough?

The same thoughts had been whirling around in my head all week and it was on the Friday, sometime in last period Math that I made my decision. I had my strategy, my plan prepared. Now all I had to do was work up the courage to actually do it.

*

“Not studying tonight, Asha?”

I jumped at my father’s voice as I stood there, in the doorway of his office. How was it he always knew I was there, without even looking? Then again, I should have known by now to expect anything but normal from the kind man I loved, who also happened to be the only person in the world who’d get away with calling me Asha.

“No. I finished it all already,” I replied, guessing that meant it was okay for me to come in.

My Dad nodded, turning from his work to face me. His glasses, crooked from the amount of times he’d sat on them by mistake, slipped down his equally crooked nose as his hazel eyes the exact shade of mine studied my face carefully.

“Then what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked, wise eyes still appraising me carefully.

How the heck did he know?