Tattler || 5sos

Two

~Ashton~

            She is just as beautiful as the last day I saw her. Graduation. Everyone threw their caps up in the air, except for her. She held hers tightly against her chest and watched the other caps rain down with twinkling eyes. I had wanted to go and talk to her, to tell her how I missed her, but I never did. I lost sight of her in the crowd.

            She's sitting on the other side of the cell, on the floor against the bars. I'm sitting on the bench beside Luke, watching her. She's twisting a bracelet around her fingers absentmindedly.

            "Ashton, dude, do you hear me?" Luke is waving his hand in my face. I sit back against the wall and run my hands over my face.

            "Sorry," I mumble, tearing my eyes away from her. Luke's mouth twists uncomfortably.

            "I know how you feel, Ash," he says quietly so no one else will hear. I look in the opposite direction at Britt, who is still standing even though there's plenty of room on the bench. She's leaning her temple against the bars, tugging at a piece of her short blonde hair. Luke's looking at her too, but in a different way that I am.

            "But isn't that your fault?" I say, remembering back to that day, and how it started. Luke turns sharply to look directly in front of him.

            "That wasn't my fault," Luke says. "I wouldn't have hurt her purposely."

            I look at Luke and his hopelessness. Then somehow my eyes make their way back to Emery.

            "What happened to you two anyway?" Luke asks, his face scrunching up.

            "The secret," I say simply, and Luke nods.

            "That's what happened to all of us, dude."

            We are silent for a while, until I manage to get to my feet and walk over to her. I stop in front of her and push my hands in my pockets. She lifts her head to look at me.

            "Can I sit with you?" I ask nervously. Nervous. I never got nervous.

            She nods, and I slide down against the bars and sit beside her. She tucks a long strand of hair that had fallen out of its twist behind her ear and looks at me.

            "So," she says with a small laugh, glancing back at her wrists. "How have you been?"

            Horrible, actually.

            "I'm doing alright," I lie, looking her over. She's wearing a blue button-up blouse and a peach coat with black jeans and lace-up boots. And even though it doesn't match, I see that she's wearing a familiar-looking pendant.

            "What about you?" I ask. "Did you ever get into that art school you were always talking about?"

            She glances away. "No, I, uh, I majored in pre-law."

            "Oh." This I'm surprised at. She loved art, she was the best in the class. "Why?"

            She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Because, Ash, this isn't high school anymore, this is the real world. I couldn't- life doesn't always end up like we plan."

            It was her parents, I was sure of it. They always wanted her to be a lawyer, not an artist.

            "I just hope you're happy," I say simply, and it's true. I only ever wanted her to be happy. She smiles sadly.