5sos Preferences And Imagines

#19.1 You're The New Kid (Ashton)

The place was huge, unlike your old high school, and you knew you were bound to end up lost on the first day. You had gotten a mini tour of the place, but you still couldn't remember where any of your classes were located.

What kind of rich-ass place has a school with three floors, an elevator, multiple buildings, and two cafeterias?!

Not your old school...or any school you've been to before this giant's castle.

The day before, you were guided around by a lanky, tall klutz named Luke something. Hemmerly, was it? No, Hemmings! Yes, that was it. He mentioned finding him or one of his friends he had shown pictures of to you if you got lost today. One's name was Calum Hood (you remembered his name because he was GOOD in the Hood, like, really good looking, but kiwi-like), another was Michael Clifford (the Big Red Dog), who had piercings and a few tattoos (there was another appearance thing Luke had mentioned, but you couldn't remember what it was), and the last kid's name was something Irwin. You could remember his last name because of Steve Irwin (crikey!), but not his first name. You remembered making a connection with his hair, which was an ashy, dirty blonde mop of curls on his head. Something like Ashton.

You sucked with names.

Anyway, you were pretty sure you remembered their faces because they were C.U.T.E.

You took in a shuddering breath, and you entered the Empire State Building sized school. The buzzing crowds of kids, like flocks, made the place seem ten times its size, and you got dizzy, almost falling over. You rushed back outside, gasping for air because 1. the horrid stench of teenagers who apparently have never heard of this miraculous invention called deodorant, and 2. you HATED crowds.

You have had a long history of anxiety (and anxiety attacks) from crowds, and you got nauseous even sparing the topic a thought. You ran your hands through your hair nervously, and you took out your locker number and combination. You at least remembered where THAT was, and it was close to a bathroom, about which you had a plan.

You got to your locker, grabbing your things for your second period, not planning on going to first, and you dashed into the single person bathroom. The crowd had died down quite a bit, but you still weren't okay with the number of humans. The late bell rang, giving you a mini heart attack, and you realized this was the first class you've ever been to, not to mention, skipping.

You had no idea how long you were crying in the bathroom, but when you heard a light knock on the door, you nearly screamed. You would have screamed, but the lack of oxygen to your lungs due to it hitching in your throat prevented any more than a strained gasp to escape your mouth.

"Uh, are you okay in there?" A high-ish pitched guy's voice asked from the other side of the door. I didn't say anything, and the door creaked open a little. The lock was pushed in, but it was still opening. A mop of dirty blonde, ashy hair popped through the door along with the face of a boy who was covering his eyes with huge, long fingered hands. "Please tell me you're fully clothed."

You meant to say yes, but all that came out was a puny "uuhh-hh."

"I don't speak mouse," he said simply. "English?"

"Yeah," your pitiful voice sounded softly.

He uncovered his eyes, and you found a ruggedly handsome face. His hazel eyes were gorgeous, and his stunning but concerned smile was dented with deep, adorable dimples. His already thin lips were pressed thinner with an awkward expression of uncertainty and concern. "Uh, sorry, the door's lock is broken," he apologized softly.

"No shit, sherlock," you muttered quietly.

"What's wrong?" He asked, walking into the single women's bathroom, and he crouched to your level. You didn't respond. "Wait, are you the new girl? Yes, you are. Luke told me about you. I'm Ashton, but that doesn't matter. Right now, you matter most. Let's go to the counselor-"

You shook your head rapidly in response. "Nonono."

"Hold on, I haven't finished. She's fine with letting us use a little private room connected to hers if you don't, and I presume you really don't want to, talk with her about it. I skip class with the guys in her room all the time, and she excuses it as talking to her for counseling. Let's go," Ashton insisted. You had no choice but to accept his offer as he grabbed your hand.

The two of you walked through the hall, his very big hand enclosing yours completely, and it comforted you with its warm and calloused feeling. You walked into the room, and, surely enough, the black haired, short counselor let you and Ash use the room for as long as you needed. The room was about half the size of a regular classroom, and there were two couches, a closet, and a table littered with fidgets, games, coloring books, and various coloring utensils.

You sat down awkwardly next to Ashton, and slowly spilled the beans about your anxiety, worries about this new school, why you moved, etcetera. Ashton listened with intent focus the whole time, and you actually felt accepted for the first time in a long time. Your friends never even showed up to say goodbye when you left, to give you an idea about how long it's been.

You cried simply because of that, and he hugged you tightly. You two stood up, and he hugged you tighter. You felt as if your ribs would crack, but you didn't mind. The fact someone wasn't revolted by you enough to not give you a hug made you feel like a million bucks. His huge hand covered one side of your face clumsily, and he caressed your face, even though it felt like rubbing overused sandpaper on your face. Not painfully rough, but enough for sandpaper-like texture.

"We'll get through this. The boys and I have officially accepted you into our group of buds, as long as you accept the invitation," Ashton cooed softly in your ear.

"Thank you," you choked.

"Don't mention it," he giggled, a sound you'll remember forever. "I won't tell anyone about this if you don't tell anyone about me going into the girls' bathroom."

"Deal," you giggled.