Outcasts

I love ashby yes i do, i love ashby how bout you?

The next day I drove to school early, hoping to get through the day without listening to ashby grunting at me, or watching Chastity and Travis lip lock. As I pulled in I watched ashby turn into the parking lot smoothly, on his black Harley Davidson motorcycle. Right away I noticed he didn't wear a jacket, and he didn't wear a helmet.

Shaking my head, I walked to my locker, ducking through people. Old me would've never gone to my locker, but new me wanted to be mature and prepared. Ashby had the nerve to ignore me all of lit and that really pissed me off. His nose was in a book the whole time, looking all adorable with his dusty blonde hair, falling into his eyes as he intently read. So I made a chart of tasks we had, the screenplay, theme notes, a paper on how the book relates to life, character analysis, we had a lot of work to do. I groaned when the bell rang and he shot out of his seat without saying a word.

"Ashby!" I yelled when I made it to the hall. He didn't even glance back at me. "Ashby!" I yelled again, running through the crowd to catch up. "Ashby!" I grunted, and this time some football player nudged him and he paused turning around and pulling a headphone out of his ear.

Oh.

"What? You couldn't catch the mother fuckin fox?" He asked.

I blinked at him a few times. "I knew you wouldn't even have started," he grunted, reaching into his bag and pulling out a paperback. "Read," he grunted before turning around and walking away.

Dammit, we were never going to get this project done.

A few hours later Jess Adams picked me up for the first time in months. I was going to a party. It hurt my heart a little because the last time I had seen Riley was at one, but life goes on.

I'd dressed up slightly, braiding the front of my blue hair back and letting it fall into curls, I'd even managed to put on some studded high heels to go with my fishnet tights and over sized band hoodie. I looked good, and Jess had made sure I knew it.

We pulled up and to my surprise, I saw a shiny black bike parked outside Hunters house.

"Ashby is here?" I mumbled, folding my arms.

Jess shrugged, "he's something else." Jess and Austen were still together and I knew she missed him a lot, she made sure everyone knew it. She tucked her dark hair behind her ears and we climbed out. My heels clicked against the concrete and my eyes immediately saw Travis and Chastity, sitting on the driveway smoking with Neal Clark.

Ugh. He needed to get a life.

We walked past, to the door where none other than Ashby sat on the porch swing, his eyes glued to his book.

"Ashby!" I called, I don't know why, all he did was angrily grunt at me. He glanced up, and his green eyes met mine.

"Hi," he grumbled before looking down. Who came to a party to read?

"Come inside with us?" I offered. His brows furrowed and he lifted a finger, telling me to wait. His mouth moved as he read the last few words, and then he stood. He wore black straight leg jeans and a red flannel shirt, his biceps rippled slightly and I licked my lips.

He grunted at me.

"Do you know how to carry a normal conversation?" I snapped.

"Do you know how to read?"

"What?"

"You haven't started the book yet, when you start the book, I'll have reason to talk to you, and then I will," he shrugged, like it was a normal thing to say. I shook my head, and walked inside. I didn't really do the whole, getting drunk or high thing anymore, but I did enjoy a beer or two and dancing with friends. And that's what I did. Half an hour after being there I heard ashby's bike start up and I watched him peel away, disappearing.

It seemed that over the next few weeks ashby avoided me more and more. I still hadn't read the book, but it was barely March and we had until the last week of May to complete it.

One thing I know is I'm kind of obsessed with ashby. Why is he avoiding me? Why doesn't he talk to people? How come I don't know anything about him? Why does he eat alone?

It drove me insane.

So today when the lunch bell rang, I decided I'd sit with him. I wore knit uggs, black leggings and an off the shoulder crew neck with all time low logo on it, and carried my pizza over to his table, plopping down.

"I know you like books, preferably the tragic kind, you drive a motorcycle, you grunt a lot, you have neat handwriting, it's like swirly but big and blocky at the same time, your initials are A. Q. P. But I haven't figured out the Q yet, and you have a tattoo, but that is everything I know about you and it's annoying because you seem to know who I am," I finished.

He cast a sideways glance at me and I thought I saw a trace of a smile. "Quinn."

"What?" I asked, taking a bite of my pizza.

"The Q. Stands for Quinn, and what, are you stalking me?" He asked, a grin appearing on his face.

"No-"

"Did you start the book?" I shook my head.

"You can sit here but I'm not going to talk to you," he said smugly, "until you start."

It was my turn to grunt.

"Your favorite color is green, you listen to a lot of bands, but by the looks of your finger you like 5sos, your hair is naturally brown," he touched my head, "roots are showing, you don't read, you play instruments, you're reserved and sometimes come to school with bruises on your face, you didn't take an interest in school until this semester-"

I stared at him, "how do you know all this?"

He shrugged, "I watch. Now shh."