Ghost ⇔ Cake ✓

Ten: Mystery

Ashton's blood was cold as ice.

He watched Calum spin on his heel and charge outside, only the slam of the front door left ringing in his ears. He was frozen, his left eye still throbbing, feeling like he was submerged into the cold depths of the sea. He stared at the wooden door, praying for it to open and for Calum to come back in, but he didn't.

"Oh, God," Ashton mumbled. He stood up abruptly, pillow still clutched in his fists. Luke and Michael swiftly stood up beside him. Luke stepped in front of him to where his face was all Ashton could see. He gripped his shoulders.

"Calum doesn't even know where you live. Okay? He can't do anything," Luke said firmly. He gazed into Ashton's eyes desperately. "Can you hear me?"

Ashton heard him fine. He pushed Luke out of the way, sending Luke staggering back against Michael, who swore violently, and grabbed his backpack from beside the door. Michael shoved Luke aside and grabbed the back of Ashton's shirt, letting go as soon as he turned around.

"Ashton, don't freak out," Michael said. "Fuck. Calum won't do anything if you tell him not to, okay? He won't."

"This is why we never should have talked to him on that train in the first place," said Luke darkly. "All it has brought is confusion and trouble."

Ashton hardly heard them. Their voices were low buzzes in his ear, his focus trained on the doorknob, his backpack tight in his hand. He could feel the exasperation radiating off of his friends, and also tinges of guilt. He knew Luke and Michael wanted to do something about his father. But there wasn't anything to do. Besides, it wasn't as bad as it often looked.

"...figure it out tomorrow," Luke was saying. "He won't do anything today, I'm sure."

But Ashton wasn't so sure. He pulled open the door, ignoring Michael and Luke's protests, and slipped through the doorway. He searched down the road for any sign of Calum, but he must have taken his bicycle, because he was long gone. Ashton bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. His heart slammed hard in his chest, pulsing hot in his ears. He heard Luke and Michael behind him, muttering complaints underneath their breaths, but Ashton spun on his heel and faced them.

"Take me home," he said. Michael and Luke blinked back at him, suddenly silent. "I don't care who. Just take me home, one of you."

Michael was still blinking when Luke fished out his keys and dangled them in front of Ashton. "Hop in," he said grimly. Ashton climbed into Luke's passenger seat and Michael slipped into the back. Luke gave Ashton a stern look as he started his car and backed out of his driveway.

"He has a point, you know," said Luke as he drove. Ashton stared at the blurred trees as they passed. "None of us are doing anything about your dad, and we should be."

"No, you shouldn't," Ashton said. He glared at Luke angrily. "I told both of you not to. My dad is fine. He's fine. It could be a million times worse."

Luke didn't say anything, just tightening his jaw and clenching the steering wheel a little harder. Something stuck in Ashton's throat and he turned away from the two boys. He rested his hand against his bruised eye and swollen cheekbone, swallowing with effort. It wasn't his father's fault. His father had expectations for his only son, and what was Ashton to expect when he never met them? Love and kindness? Life isn't a fairytale. Ashton knew that now.

Luke pulled into the gravel driveway and parked by the front steps. Ashton got out and gave a dark look to both Michael and Luke. "Stay. Here."

They stayed.

Ashton climbed the steps and opened the front door, stepping inside the house. He smelled cigarettes and the bitter scent of beer wafting from the den. He peered around the corner and saw his father lounging on the couch, half-passed out, a forgotten action movie still playing on the television. Ashton let out a breath. Calum must never have came.