What even is a phone number?
A ten digit number with hyphens that allows you the luxury of chatting with someone who is far away?
Yeah I guess that's it.
I mean I guess that's it.
A phone number doesn't really mean anything, right?
I mean it doesn't necessarily imply that when you are given someone's phone number that in-fact that said someone has an interest in you?
I mean that's crazy.
Because that afternoon Ashton gave me his phone number. And in exchange I gave him mine. He never said why he wanted it or that he would even call at all. He just said that I was funny. Although really I never said anything funny. Or maybe I did. But I didn't mean to.
The following day I did what any other normal person would do after returning from a trip; unpack.
But of course I’m not normal.
So as I was unpacking my things I began to worry. And I started to worry because I began to wonder—what if he actually did want to see me again? And then I began to wait beside my phone, and I would listen for any kind of a buzz or a ring.
But of course as I waited nothing happened. And I simply began to realize that I had been wasting incredible amounts of time. And I never completely unpacked. So of course as the hours passed my anticipation had diminished, and the letdown began to sit in. But I wasn't disappointed in Ashton—no. I guess I was disappointed in myself. I didn't have one single god damn minuscule amount of courage to pick up the phone and actually call the guy myself.
Eventually I did in fact abandon my phone, and while I did so I took a shower. Calm the nerves. The pointless nerves. I made sure it was nice and long, and the water was hot. But in the pit of my stomach I felt something terribly exhausting. A feeling of regret. I should of called him. I should of called him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And I was so caught up in this regret that I had almost missed the faint ringing of my phone—
The ringing of my phone.
Quickly I ran out of the bathroom, my bare feet screeching and slidding against the cool, white tile. The towel I had wrapped around my body was falling off at a fast pace, but I managed to keep it on as I reached the phone. I cleared my throat before I hit the talk button.
"Hey." I said.
"Emily, hey it's me. Ashton from Uncle Benny's."
I remember when he asked me what my name was. I was going to lie and say something promiscuous like Sasha or Tiffany. But I wanted to be real. So I said Emily.
"Oh yeah, hey. I remember, yeah." Hell, I couldn't forget.
"So—it being a beautiful day and all—I was wondering if you had any plans later on or something?"
Say no. But make it cool. Sound cool.
"No, not really, I was just gonna watch t.v. or something."
Okay. That works.
"Oh, well would you like to do something? I was just going to do nothing either." He laughed. "There's this restaurant that makes amazing italian food, and I mean it's amazing and I think you would like it, so I was wondering—".
"Italian food. I love italian food."
Smooth move cutting him off.
"Oh, cool. So would you like to go? I get if you don't want to, being you don't really know me or anything. Because I would understand that. And—".
"I'll go." I said. "I would love to go out, actually."
"Yeah? Oh alright, I'll pick you up? Where do you live? Unless you don't want me to know. Then you can just meet me there."
"I'll tell you were I live if you tell me where you live." I said.
"That's fair enough, definitely fair enough." He laughed. "98 North Bay Road. Right around the street from Benny's actually."
"Easy commute," I said. I heard him laugh through the reciever. "40 East Parks Street. About five blocks from Benny's."
"Alright, I'll come over in, say, three hours? eight o'clock is good right? It's not too early or anything?"
"It's good for me if it's good for you."
"Then see you at eight I guess." He laughed. "And don't dress fancy. I hate fancy."
"I'll try." I laughed back. "See you then."
And then I hung up. I hope I didn't hang up too early. Oh god.
When he picked me up I felt like a statue. If he were to touch my arm while we were in the car I swear I would've shattered into a million little pieces. He played music and we engaged in small talk but while it all I still felt frozen. But at least I wasn't shaking. Because shaking is bad. It shows that you're weak. I didn't want to come off weak.
But only once we were in the restaurant did I relax. Because he was relaxed. And because he grabbed my hand as he walked me up to the host. And then that's when I finally noticed what he was wearing. It wasn't fancy just like I had expected.
He was in a plaid, red, black, and white long-sleeve flannel and tight dark-wash skinny jeans. Tight. I said tight. His hair was messier than before, his waves every which way. And it was adorable. But his outfit was hot.
Much better than the Uncle Benny’s uniform. Much better.
YOU ARE READING
epic. // ashton
Fanfiction❝your happiness is my happiness.❞ ashton irwin short story ☺ iirwin