"But what did happen?"
"Play with me and I'll tell you,"
I stifle the panic. "I want to know what's going on."
Before he can answer, pain flares through my head. I tuck my face into my shoulder, my eyes squeezed shut, breath held in my lungs.
Ashton touches my shoulder. I open my eyes with a ragged breath.
"Pain pretty bad?"
"Uh-huh," I try not to move until it suppresses itself and melts back into my unconscious. When it does, I meet his eyes.
"You're going to be okay. We'll take good care of you."
I roll my eyes. "You're the cheesiest person I've ever met. You'd better be a fast teacher."
He flashes me a grin. "It's a really easy game. Here," he holds his hands out, palms down, and moves mine under his, palms up. "Try to hit my hands."
I try, and he pulls his hands away so fast I hit empty air and almost my own legs. He winks at me and laughs, replacing his hands. "Again."
I miss again, and, so determined, I slap my thighs hard enough they sting.
And as we continue and I improve, he tells me the story.
"So when we got inside, we were looking in all the rooms, trying to find whoever they'd called us for. And when Calum went into your room, you were just laid down with a mask on. The concentration was so high, I didn't even think you would be breathing,"
"Scary,"
He nods, serious. "Yeah, really scary. I'm glad you're okay."
His sudden caring makes me stop. "Thank you."
Ashton nods again, then continues as his hands only just miss mine.
"He looked for a second, that's where the gauze is from, but that's all he did, it always feels wrong to examine an unconscious patient—especially one who's young and female—without parental consent. And then he helped me get you into my car, and on the way, you—" he cuts off with a delighted yell as I yank my hands away, knuckles stinging.
"You woke up a little bit and started crying. And I sort of leaned back and held your hand until you went back under. Then you woke back up on the couch, and now we're here."
"And didn't crash and kill us both,"
He grins. "And I didn't crash."
"So how long have you guys been friends? You four?"
He giggles. "Was it really that obvious?"
My next hit slaps his fingertips. So close. "Uh, yeah. It was. I don't think coworkers use nicknames. Or throw fruit snacks at each other."
The corner of his mouth twitches. "Yeah, I'm friends with those idiots. Love 'em to death, we're roommates. In a house. Which is kind of weird, because we can all afford our own place, but we've been living together for so long it just wasn't really a question anymore."
"But, my name?"
"Oh, yeah," he pauses to slip a card out of his back pocket and show it to me. It's my driver's license. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay,"
He hands it to me, and I pocket it and make a mental note.
It's quiet. I pick at my fingernail.
Luke and Michael left a little while ago, and Calum hasn't come back. Ashton stopped talking.
"Phoebe?" Ashton says. He waves over his shoulder and I follow, uneasy.
