The State of Confusion

Car Rides

After history was over I started to walk slowly out of the class. I was afraid he might ask me something I didn't want to answer.
"Penelope wait," I heard him shout.
Reluctantly I turned around to face him, "I'm waiting."
"Ok... Umm.... I was... Was... Wondering... If you'd-"
"Spit it out."
"If you'd like to hang out today. I know you don't like me. You don't have to. I just want to get to know you. Please."
I stared at him. Was this really happening? I couldn't say no. That'd be too rude. But who gives a fuck, "Asher-"
"Before you reject me I just wanted to point out that you said Asher that time and not Asser."
I rolled my eyes, "I'm sorry but I have orchestra practice today."
"Ok fine. I can give you a ride home if you'd like?"
"No, Jennifer gives me rides."
"Jennifer?"
"Covington she's on the track team so she gives me rides after practice too."
"Oh ok..." He grinned to himself. I didn't like that look on his face.
"Alright. Bye, Ass," I said as I walked off.
"Oh come on! I thought we were over the Ass phase."
"It's never gonna be over," I retorted.

For the rest of the day Asher hadn't made an appearance. I thought about how shy he looked that morning as I packed up my Viola. I made my way out the orchestra doors. I stopped in my tracks.
"Hey, Danger," he was holding keys and standing in front of his Mercedes.
"Where the hell is Jennifer?"
"I told her I was dropping you off today. She texted you. You didn't reply so she left."
I grabbed my phone-
JEN- Have fun with Blackwood ;)
My heart did a mini sink and pop up. This is not happening. I looked up and he was holding the passenger's seat open. "Please?"
I was so pissed, but I need a ride too. I hopped in. He closed the door obviously pleased with himself.
"So, Danger, tell me about yourself."
I wanted to scratch his eyes out, "Well you don't seem to know my name. It's actually Penelope I'd like to be called Penelope."
"I didn't ask what you'd like to be called, Danger," he smirked.
I sighed, "Then that's all I have to tell you."
"Ok I'll go first then."
I rolled my eyes. Of course a self obsessed idiot.
"I was born on August-"
"Turn left."
"August twenty-"
"Take the next right."
"Twenty-fif-"
"This is my stop."
"Woah, your house is gorgeous."
It wasn't mine. It was Jen's. "Not my house it's Jen's."
"Oh."
I walked out not saying goodbye. I was just about to ring the doorbell when Jen texted me.
JEN- I'm not home. You better not go home. I took the spare key under the mat. Go spend time with Blackwood. Now!
I turned around. I started walking home. He cruised next to me.
"Danger where are you going?"
"Home."
"Get in the car."
"No. I'm not showing you where I live."
"My goodness you're insane. Danger, let's get a bite to eat. Please."
I thought about it and decided why not. I got into the car and stared at him.
"You're cute when you're determined."
"Shut up," I said agitated.
"I know this great bakery. The Rusty Lemons. We can go there."
"Oh I know that place. I got there every Saturday."
"Funny I go there every Sunday."

We made it. I sat down at a small table in the back and took out my homework and began to be productive.
He came back with two coffees.
"Ok if you won't tell me about yourself. May I ask?"
"Sure," I said not paying attention.
"Date of birth?"
"July 25."
"Hobbies and/or talents?"
"Viola, writing, reading, and sketching."
"Can I see one of your drawings?"
"In a million years."
"Siblings?"
"Older brother. Peter. Workaholic, Alcoholic, and Party-oholic."
"Oh. Relationship status?"
"Single and not ready to mingle."
"Favorite flower?"
"Petunias."
"How was your childhood?"
I looked up this time. Something about the way he looked at me, truly interested, made me tell him, "My dad died when I was three. Drunk driving accident. That same year my mom became addicted to crack. My brother is ten years older than me. He was thirteen. Our Uncle Jerry took us in. After my brother got a job, we moved out of Jerry's because he was also an alcoholic. It wasn't safe for us. We moved into the small house we have today."
His jaw dropped. He didn't say anything, but I knew he was truly sorry. Some people would just say I'm sorry without a hint of feeling in their body. He didn't say anything. I liked it like that. "I shouldn't have asked." He looked ashamed.
"Hey no it's fine it's been thirteen years. I get it." I instinctively put my hand on his. I panicked and pulled away.
He looked at me wide-eyed. "Give me your hand." I obliged. "Tell me more."
"My mom showed up yesterday. I got home from school and there she was. I left immediately. I said some pretty nasty things to her."
He was running circles with his thumb around my knuckles. He squeezed my fingers, "Hey it's ok I would've too."
I sipped my coffee. "But yeah that's my story I guess. Yours?"
He let go of my hand and started, "My mom was diagnosed with stage two pancreatic cancer when I was ten. My dad spent days and nights at the hospital while I stayed with my Aunt Carol. I took care of my younger brothers. Brandon and Caleb- twins who were 7 at the time. My younger sister, Daphne, died when I eleven. She was only 5. She was killed in a car accident. It's just me, my brothers, and my dad now. My mom lives in the hospital. She got better after a year and then last year was diagnosed with the same cancer again."
"Asher..." I started but I couldn't continue. I grabbed his hands and held them tight not willing to let go.
"I'm fine. I'm just worried all the time."
"Of course," I shivered.
"Are you cold?"
"What? No I'm fine."
"No take my jacket," he said as he pulled off his letterman and got up to wrap it around me.
And like that we sat at the back of the coffee shop for hours. Talking about our pasts and our futures.