Ray ||l.h.||

2.3

(A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED)

"Lift with your legs!"

"I still don't even know what that means!"

Ashton chuckles at Ray's response, angling the corners in his hands to fit through their doorway. They were carrying their brand new bookcase into the house, having to stop and rest the box on the grass every few steps. In Ray's defense, there aren't many workouts and exercises that she felt safe doing while blind, so she blames her noodle arms on that fact and that fact alone.

They'd planned to buy a coffee table, but the store didn't have the color that Ashton wanted. He wanted a dark wood, and they only had lights and whites, so they picked out another project to start together.

"Hey, you never told me how seeing your folks went." Ashton speaks over the box that's obscuring his view of the girl.

When Ray had come in late, after Michael had dropped her off, she'd gone straight to her room. Though, Michael had taken her for a pick-me-up snack and gently pried some information out of her, the prospect of talking to anyone else about what had happened seemed exhausting. Ashton hadn't been awake to challenge that, fortunately.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Michael starts, sliding into a corner booth. Ray has a feeling that whatever he asks is going to be mildly Luke related, and she sighs as she takes her seat next to the boy.

Michael is usually who she goes to when she wants to mellow out and not really discuss anything. He's great at keeping your thoughts off of the things that trouble you. Ray thinks in the back of her mind that this may actually be a time when he should be asking about what happened, but that doesn't mean she has to be happy about it.

"Yeah, go ahead, Mike." She gives him permission and sits back while she waits for the question.

To be fair, he did drive all the way over to her without so much as an explanation, so he's earned the right to wonder.

"Uh, what kind of yogurt do you want?" He stammers, furrowing his brows with mock interest at the Menchie's menu in front of him. Ray draws her own eyebrows together, staring at the boy. That couldn't have been what he wanted to ask.

"Don't know yet. Nothing else you wanna ask?" She skeptically narrows her eyes, folding her arms over the table.

Michael briefly looks her way, nodding way too much to be convincing. "Yeah. I mean--"

"Mike." Ray fixes him with a look. She'd rather him come out with it instead of beating around the bush. Somewhere in her heart she appreciates the fact that he knows this is probably a fragile topic, but Ray's not fragile herself, and she can handle this. Probably.

Holding his hands up in defense, Michael gives. "Alright, alright," He says, then drops his hands down to the tabletop to push himself up. "Let's just get some fro-yo first."

Ray worries her lower lip, debating whether she should tell Ashton right now. There are actually a lot of reasons why she shouldn't.

If she opens up that can of worms, she'll probably be late for school. Ashton had asked her to help him tote the bookcase before she took off, and in return, she asked for a ride to school. Ray had smoothly lied and told Ashton that Luke hadn't been feeling well, and wasn't able to pick her up.

If she tells Ashton what happened, he would most definitely hunt Luke down and make her tardy for English.

Another reason is Ashton would literally kill Luke.

She may not want to speak to Luke or even see him, really, but she doesn't want him to be hospitalized. Ray wishes she was exaggerating, but she knows Ashton's been sticking to a workout routine since he was a sophomore.