"What the fuck, Ash?" I ask harshly, realizing that we're locked in a classroom together. "Don't blame this on me. Your stupid friends probably did this again." I want to argue, to defend my friends. But I know he might be right for once. Our friends get a kick out of doing things like this to us, because we can’t stand each other. They actually find our immense dislike for each other humorous and entertaining. “It could have been YOUR friends too!” I mutter, just to have the last word and annoy him. “Whatever. I hate them so much. They’re always doing this.” “You hate me that much that being locked in a room with me makes you hate your friends?” I ask in disbelief. As mad as I am at my friends when they do these things, I love them regardless. I know it’s just their way to have fun. “I don’t actually hate them, you retard. I just—it’s just an exaggeration of my anger.” I recoiled at the word retarded, and my insides boiled.
“Never fucking call me that again.” My voice is dripping with immense anger. It’s all I can do to not cry like I always want to when I hear that used as an insult. “Oh I’m sorry, did I offend you?” He asks with mock concern and sarcasm seeping in his voice.
Let me run through a quick backstory. See, ever since we were born, Ash Hitchell and I have not liked each other at all. Unfortunately for us, our families are long-time friends, from our parents to our older brothers to our younger sisters. This means that they’ve had to sleep over sometimes, because his parents have business trips. I’ve actually never met his parents. But we always used to have dinner with them over and play-dates forced on by parents. Once we finally got old enough for kindergarten, school was supposed to become my home away from home. Or namely, my home away from Ash. Though I knew he’d be with me, I saw it as a way to get away from spending time with him. However, I became popular because my personality is likeable. As for Ash, he became popular because of his looks. Even though it pains me to admit it, and I never would, Ash Hitchell is hot. So there were two popular groups of people, and eventually, they fused into one. By around third grade, our friends realized how much we didn’t like each other, and took every opportunity they got to get a laugh out of it. Over the years, they all got really close, and even though we’re all one big group of friends, Ash and I still refer to it as a split group—his friends and mine. Even though all of his friends are so nice and I like them, our friends are one of the only things we don’t share. And now that we do, we still like to pretend that we don’t. So that’s why I’m in this predicament, locked in an empty classroom during my free period with Ash Hitchell.
I decide to ignore him so I don’t get too upset, and instead focus on the door. I yell through it to whoever’s on the other side, surely listening to us for entertainment. “OPEN THIS DOOR!” I’m knocking on it, though I know it’s useless. I hear the chuckle of Alex, one of the football players AKA Ash’s friends that I’m actually close with. I talk to him more than any of the other guys. “Alex!” I’m surprised even he’d do something like this. His laughter slowly dies down. “Sorry Sarah! Allie made me.” I groan. Allie, my best friend, happens to be Alex’s girlfriend. Somehow I imagine he wasn’t exactly telling her no in the first place. He also doesn’t sound exactly apologetic. “Alex this isn’t funny. Seriously let us out!” I yell through the door, exasperated. “Sarah, relax. It’s just a joke.” I decide not to say anything in response, annoyed. Spending time along with Ash isn’t good for me. It never has been.
Since he’s known me since the day we were both born, he knows most of my weaknesses. Yes, we share the same birthday and even the room we were born is the same. Every year when we were younger we had a joined party. Anyway, he knows just what sets me off, and he uses it. For example, he knows I hate both the words ‘hate’ and ‘retard’ when taken lightly. Of course, I’d never tell him why, but he doesn’t ask.
If I were being honest though, I would tell you that I don’t hate Ash Hitchell. As much as I dislike him, and that amount is growing every day, I don’t hate him. In fact, if it weren’t for his attitude and personality, I would like him. He’s multi-talented, from sports to school. And honestly he’s the hottest player on the football team, or any other team for that matter. I shake out of my daydream, realizing that I’ve been thinking good things about Ash. This is the same Ash that stole my favorite Barbie when we were 8. This is why any proximity to him is not a good one. I always wind up thinking about his good traits.
“Thinking about me again, Carter?” He asks cockily, using my middle name to address me, which he knows I hate. My cheeks go red, a dead give-away that I was, in fact, thinking about him. “Yeah right, Hitchell, in your dreams.” I act nonchalant. “Carter, I don’t have to dream it if I live it. And you know there’s no point in lying when your cheeks are the color of my shirt.” I look down at his shirt, though I already know it’s red. I give him a once over. “Ok, enough checking me out, what were you thinking?” I don’t even deny that I was checking him out because I was.
“It’s not important. I just hate how much you know me.” “What do you mean?” “Like how you can always tell when I’m lying and all that. Nobody else can do that.” “Yeah well you aren’t put in situation where you’re always stuck with anyone else.” I just sigh heavily, not ready to confide any further in Ash. “So you aren’t going to tell me what you were thinking?”
“I was thinking of that time you stole my Barbie, ok?” I raise my voice in frustration. He looks taken aback, and slightly hurt, but masks it. “I said sorry.” That I do remember. I was in my room during dinner, too upset to eat because of the loss of my Barbie. My door knocked and I ignored it. Someone came in, but my face was buried in my pillow. Then, 9-year-old Ash mustered up the best apology he could, and ran back downstairs. The next day he was the same jerk as before. Nevertheless, I smile at the memory. “Why did you do that?” “Take the doll?” “Well that, and apologize.” It took him a second to come up with a response, and I could sense his discomfort. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what you were thinking.” “But I already said the Barbie!” “Hate to upset you, but I know there’s more.”
“Alright, fine…I’ll tell you if you tell me.” “Deal.” “Okay, you go first.” “Nope, ladies go first!” “Ash, I know you would just let me go and then never go yourself.” “Seriously, even though we have a deal?” I thought back to the past. For the first time I realize how reliable Ash can be, in the sense that when he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it. I look at him, and he seems offended, but it turns to anger almost. “Ash, I’m…sorry.” Apologies between us are scarce and spaced out, so we’re both taken aback. He doesn’t question me, and I feel the need to explain. “I should know better than anyone that you stick to your word.” “Don’t sweat it Sarah.” Just like that, it’s over. “Anyway, I really was thinking about the Barbie incident when you interrupted my train of thought.”
“But…” “But before that, I was thinking about…you.” The last word came out quietly and I sounded vulnerable. He chuckled, amused. My face reddened again, realizing what I said, and I felt the need to clarify. “I was thinking that I don’t hate you, and that I just dislike you. And yeah.” He continued laughing. “And yeah sounds like the interesting part. And if you want my honest answer to your question, I want the honest ‘and yeah’ meaning.” “Ash, I’ll be honest, you don’t need an ego boost, and I don’t need to humiliate myself by broadcasting to you and whoever’s enjoying our conversation currently what my thoughts were before you interrupted.” My hand slipped over my mouth, as I realized I just let the fact that I was thinking good things about him slip.
~A.N~
Thank you so much if you're reading my story. I might have grammatical errors, but it's improbable. I do well in English and pay particular attention to my grammar when I write. And guys...I won't be uploading a lot this week, because it's the week of exams. I probably won't post again until Wednesday night, but please give both my story and me a chance! <3
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But this love is ours. <3
Fiksi RemajaThis is the story of Ash and Sarah. They've known each other forever...and hated each other for longer. Forced to spend so much time together, bonds they don't even realize they share become apparent. I suck at descriptions, but this is my first...