Eve's POV:
Happy fucking birthday, Eve.
Happy fucking birthday.
I haven't gotten out of bed yet, because I know when I do, I'll probably see Ashton in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs.
So I stay in bed until 12.
Although the second I got up I regretted throwing my phone against the wall, it cracked but it still works.
I have 29 more miscalls from Ashton and 17 new texts.
My head is pounding.
"Eve, get up, you have to eat something." Britt says from outside the door.
Oh yea, and I haven't opened more door… I don't want to talk to anyone.
"Go away." I pout, I hear a sigh come from the other side of the door and footsteps.
Good.
About thirty minutes later there's another knock on my door.
"Eve, Eve it's Grace. Let me in." She sighs. I groan and get up, Grace barges in and hugs me, her skinny arms wrapping around my neck as I softly, lightly hug her back.
She shuts the door behind her.
"What the hell?"
"Don't ask."
"I wasn't going to, your dad filled me in already… Why didn't you tell me you guys did it?" She asks as we sit on the bed together.
I roll my eyes. "Because, it was like me and Ashton were in our own little bubble. Like, nothing and nobody else mattered… I don't know, I guess I just forgot to tell you… Sorry."
"It's fine. You're going through enough…" She sighs apologetically.
"So how ya holding up?" Grace asks.
"Not well. I'm just waiting for my dad to let me see Ashton again… But I'm still confused onto why Ashton said anything in the first place." Still terrible confused.
"Well… I don't know if he's gonna let you see him at all…"
"Wait, what do you mean?"
"Um, we were talking and he said you weren't going to be seeing him again."
"Ever?"
"I don't know."
"The fuck?!" I throw my hands up.
"Eve, Eve, calm down, I could be wrong. He could change his mind."
"Why would he do that? What does that do for him? keeping me from see the boy I love… Huh? I just…" I huff and lose my words.
I grab my phone and actually open all of the texts from Ashton…
*Evelyn please call me.*
*Eve, are you home? Are you okay?*
*I'm sorry Evelyn. I love you. Please, please call.*
*I'm not going to stop bothering you so you might as well answer me.*
*Eve, please.*
*Goodmorning princess. You alright? Happy birthday.*
*Are you awake?*
*Evelyn, please answer me. I know you're there.*
*Just call me please, or at least text me. You're driving me crazy.*
There are at least eight more texts like that, and I've read enough. I quickly punch in his number and call him…
