The Aristocrat

They call it when we were young

Monday 16th

The day after mine and Asher's fight I felt drained. I was snapping at every person possible and managing to sleep through most of my classes at school. By the end of fifth period the only one willing to wait for me, the only one not avoiding the sour mood that consumed me, was Chester.

He waited near the school entrance, wrapped up tight in a coat and scarf and two steaming coffees in hand. One of which he shot directly into my hand and ordered for me to drink. I did so all but downing the entire cup before we'd even reached the bottom of the steps. I continued to drink and drink all the way down the street, Chester having decided for us that we'd get the train home.

"He just walked away?" Chester asked, frowning after I'd relayed to him what had gone down between me and Ash. Five minutes into our walk he'd forced it out of me and now that I started to talk about it, I couldn't stop. Neither could Chester who seem perplexed by the entire situation.

"Yeah," I nodded, my hands wound in a fierce grip around my near empty cup, "He said there was nothing to talk about."

"Weird," Chester muttered, throwing his also empty cup into the nearest bin and then shrugging further into his beige winter coat, "And you haven't heard from him since?"

"Not exactly. He tried to ring me last night," I explained, remembering the torrent of confliction that had shot through me when I saw his name run across my screen after I'd got home from the restaurant. As much as I'd wanted to speak to him and figure it out, I knew as soon as I answered the call I'd have already forgiven him. I wasn't willing to be that forgiving just yet.

"But you didn't answer?" He questioned, peering at me through the corner of his eyes.

I shook my head, "It was like 12 when he called."

"So?" Chester queried, cocking his brows in my direction, "You were up, why didn't you answer?"

"Because I'm not going to just drop everything to listen to him half-heartedly apologise," I sneered.

"You don't know it would be half-hearted," Chester noted, waggling a pointed finger in my direction, "You never picked up."

"But I know him well enough to know what he'd say," I said, pursing my lips in thought of all the way Asher would manage to brush it off, act like nothing had happened and how easily I'd forgive him.

"People can surprise you Andra," Chester smiled, a dimple denting his cheek as he attempted to lift my spirits.

But they only plummeted as I remembered that one conversation Asher and I'd had on the drive back to his house a month again. How he'd told me I'd surprised him and that no one ever did that anymore. For a while he'd surprised me too but the longer I thought about last night, the less surprised I became and the more I realised how predictable Asher actually was.

"I know he lied Andra" Chester sighed, his smile faltering and concern taking place on his features when he noticed my lack of words, "But is it that big of a deal?"

"It isn't that he lied, Chester," I said, "I don't even really care about that. It was how he acted last night, like he didn't even care about me."

Chester's hand reached out and entwined around mine, a comforting pressure out there as he spoke, "But you know that he does care."

I thought he had. Up until last night I thought we might be going somewhere. But he'd said it best himself, he didn't care.

"Not anymore," I mumbled, eyes glued to pavement as we strolled further away from the school and towards the station. Mine and Chester's hand stay connected, swinging in the space between us as we walked.