Intertwined

Chapter 28

There's a million things running through my mind, when Asher and I part outside of the door to 2B, and I head down the deserted school hallway. The one thing that keeps recurring is the idea of Asher and my mother together. It's an image that won't add up, no matter how much I turn and twist it in my head. It's the messiness that is Asher and the structure that is my mother whirling together in my mind, like a tornado, pulling everything up with it as the two opposites collide, like hot and cold air, stirring up everything in its wake and making it impossible to focus on it.

I'm trying to separate the two in my mind, trying to quiet the whirlwind, when I collide with a firm structure, pulling me abruptly from my thoughts.

"I'm so sorry," I gush, already feeling the warmth spread in my cheeks, as I glance up to face the very well build guy I've collided with. I gasp in surprise when I'm met with a familiar face. "Brady," I breathe out, taken aback by his sudden presence. "Sorry, I didn't see you."

"Don't worry," he tells me, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little preoccupied," I chuckle dryly.

"I can see that," he says, with a chuckle matching mine.

"I should probably get going," I tell him, hoping that the smile on my face is wide enough to cover the fact that this little meeting is by far the most awkward I've felt in a while. It's not that I've actively been avoiding Brady lately, it's just that I haven't exactly been seeking out his company either, and now that I see him the guilt I feel by far overpowers the relief I've felt the last few days over not seeing him.

I have to walk around him, as he doesn't move to let me pass. He hasn't said anything, but I can feel the words turning on the tip of his tongue, a byproduct of spending so much time with him growing up.

I'm silently counting the steps I take, hoping that I can make it to the door before he works up the guts to say whatever is on his mind; I have a feeling that it'll only tighten the tension between us.

I'm at seventeen and a half steps, when I hear him call out, "I talked to your mom yesterday," effectively halting me in my escape.

I clench my eyes shut and force myself to take a deep breath before I say something I'll regret. I hate the fact that it doesn't come as a surprise to me. Of course she would go against my wishes of staying away from Brady. It seems that lately my mother is communicating more with Brady than with me, her own daughter.

"She told me about Hayes," he continues, the hurt tug in his voice forces me to face him. When I do, I find him closer than the seventeen and a half steps I had cleared between us.

"What about him?" I wish he would just spit out whatever he has spewing in his mind, so we can get this over with and I can make a run for the door.

"Is it serious?"

"I don't know," I sigh, folding my arms across my chest. I need the barrier, the shield, that it provides, between Brady and my heart, because I know that with every single word passing between us regarding Asher it'll just wedge the knife further into his back. I may have never felt anything for Brady beyond sisterly love, but that doesn't change the fact that lately Brady has giving me plenty of reason to believe that he feels differently.

"Don't give him that power," the words tumble from his lips taken both of us by surprise. "He's trouble, Charlie. He's been trouble from the moment he came to town. Don't let him drag you into his mess. Don't give him the power to break you."

"I don't remember asking for your advice," I bark at him, immediately feeling protective towards Asher and hurt to hear those words fall from the lips of someone I once considered my best friend. "You have nothing to say on this subject. Nothing," I stress, my hands now clenched into balls by my side.

"I'm your friend," he whispers gently, his expression softening.

"Really? 'Cause the friend I used to know, the one who supported me through everything, isn't here right now," I mutter through my clenched teeth. Brady looks like I've just spat him in the face, for all I know I might as well have. We've been friends for years and despite several disagreements over the course of our friendship, neither of us have ever stooped as low as I am now. I can practically feel the rocks grinding against my heart, here on the bottom.

I can't stand the hurt look on Brady's face and the way it makes my stomach churn with guilt, so I push back against it and let the anger rule me, because it's the only thing that I know will be keep me from rushing to him. And I can't do that anymore, because with every loving touch I'm feeding the hope that one day Brady and I will be more to each other than just friends.

Without another glance at him, for fear of what I'll see in his eyes, I turn on my heels and rush towards the doors as fast as my feet will carry me.