The Truth About Always

t w o

I hadn't gone home after that. There was no way I could've faced my aunt...or my dad, if he was home. Instead I went into a 24-hour fast food across the nightclub I was supposed to be at. I ignored the strange looks I was getting for the second time that night, and the jeers and wolf whistles as I'd struggled past the doors of the fast food.

A waiter had come to my aid as I collapsed on a bench, tossing my heels and my purse on the space next to me. I'd mumbled an order, one I can't remember, and looked tiredly out the glass wall at the nightclub across the street. It hadn't changed since I was left there almost an hour ago.

I'd put my head on the table and closed my eyes, feeling the exhaustion wash over me in waves. So far, it was the most stressful night I had ever experienced, and it had taken its toll.

***

I hadn't realized I'd drifted off until my sleep was disturbed by somebody sliding onto the bench across from me. I jerked awake, momentarily feeling the panic that came with the thought of being late for an important event. When I was conscious enough to think clearly, I'd squinted at the time on my cell phone screen before looking bleary-eyed at the stranger sitting at my table.

I'd woken up to four missed calls and the drunk boy from earlier. Except he hadn't seemed that drunk when he sat across from me in the 24-hour fast food. In fact, he'd looked fine. Which was more than could've been said for me.

"You look like hell," he'd said as he helped himself to the food I'd ordered earlier. His ever-present guitar leaned against the wall next to him. I muttered something incomprehensible as I stifled a yawn and rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes, feeling the mascara heavy on my lids.

While we shared dinner - my dinner - he'd introduced himself as Ash. He was sort of on an on-the-road tour with his band, he'd told me, and they were trying to find gigs for clubs and such. Apparently it wasn't going well, he admitted rather bashfully, ergo his nightly expeditions getting wasted and his rude behavior. He apologized for it, and I forgave him.

"You're quite pretty, actually," he'd said out of the blue. He was looking at me in a sort of dazed manner, which naturally made me blush instantly. "What's your name, again? I didn't quite catch it."

I told him my name, deciding not to correct him on the fact that I'd never mentioned my name in the first place. Then he asked me if it was short for something, so I'd told him, yes. My actual name was Lyra, but everyone called me Lee. My mother had had a strange preference for unusual names.

"Lyra," he'd echoed. I remember the shiver that went down my spine as he rolled the syllables over his tongue. Lyra. I'd never liked my name as much as I did in that moment.

Then he said, "Well since you told me, I'll tell you...Ash is only short for Ashton. But you can only call me that during highly personal moments." He'd hesitated before adding, "And I'll call you Lyra only then, too."

At the time, I didn't know what he meant by that. Eventually, I found out, but not until after I learned that his full name was Ashton Pierce and he knew mine to be Lyra Evern. At the time, we were simply known to each other as two syllables shortened to one.

Our conversation had been interrupted by the loud vibration of my phone, which startled me so much I'd nearly jumped out of my skin. It had been my father, apologizing for calling so late and missing my birthday, and telling me he had to stay at work late but he'd be home soon.

I ended the call with a heavy heart, as I usually felt after a call from my father. Ash hadn't asked about it, for which I was grateful. Instead, he'd changed the subject.