Behind the Glasses || a.i.

Chapter 9

 “This is it,” he exhales, accent thick. We pull into a gravel driveway accompanied by one other car a lot like Ashton’s in the sense that it doesn’t look too fancy. The house is simple, by the looks of it, one floor, cute front yard. The simple house, a salty ocean-blue color, catches my attention. A garage and a small front yard, not what I pictured Ashton living in, but I like it.

 He turns to me, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with the sleeve of his sweater. “I would just like to apologize in advance for what it could potentially look like in there. Four teenage boys living together really creates a mess,” he rants, looking over at me occasionally. He puts his thick-framed glasses back over his eyes.

 “Four?” I say in astonishment. He just smiles, as if to say, ‘I know right’.

 He kills the engine, getting out of the car. I follow suit, and he wait for me before walking into the house. We reach the door, and he opens it a tiny bit. “If you aren’t wearing pants, now would be a good time to put them on,” he warns them. I laugh.

 “Why?” a boy with an Australian accent just like Ash’s calls.

 “Because there is someone I am brining in, and I would appreciate a decent first impression for them,” he responds.

 There is a long pause before a different voice asks, “Is it a girl?”

 “I’m coming in,” Ashton declares, opening the door to reveal, as he told me, a mess. “Once again, I’m sorry about-”

 “Ashton, it’s fine,” I insist.

 He smiles. “Well, this is where I live. There are three other human beings somewhere around here, though I’m not sure where,” he says, leading me into what I assume is the kitchen. A dark-haired boy in a hoodie and black jeans stands at a counter making toast, facing away from us. “That’s Calum,” he introduces me.

 Calum turns around and smiles at me. “Well, hello.” He looks at Ash, saying, “She is worth putting pants on.”

 I giggle, while Ashton rolls his eyes. “Really?” he exasperates.

 “So, I’m Cal, and let me guess, you’re Angel?”

 “That was a terrible pick-up line,” Ashton says honestly, almost sounding angry or annoyed. “This is Trinity. She works at the book shop in town.”

 “Ew,” Calum scowls. “Not you, your job.”

 I furrow my eyebrows. “He dropped out of school,” Ashton explains to me. I nod.

 “Aw! Ash! You made me burn my toast!” Calum complains.

 “There’s no bread left,” someone in another room comments. “Luke’s out right now.”

 “I think we’re done here,” Ashton smirks, walking into a different room.

 “It was nice to meet you, Calum,” I say, following the dimple-cheeked boy.

 We walk into an empty dining room without success. He leads me into a living room where a boy with blue hair is lying on his back on the couch, his phone above his face, his thumbs scrolling. He looks up and grins at me. “Hello, there,” he greets, sitting up. He puts down his phone. “Where did Ashton find you?”

 I laugh. “On the side of the street, actually,” I say, looking at Ashton.

 “Well, I wasn’t going to leave you there!” he exclaims. “You were sick.”

 “You thought I was drunk,” I point out.

 “He picks up drunks all the time,” the boy with the blue states.