The doorbell rings and I yell, “It’s open,” without bothering to get up. The only people who come to my house are Maggie—and she’s at work—or Liam and his dad. Either way, they've been around long enough to know the routine: come on in and make yourself at home.
“You look adorable.” Asher chuckles.
I turn my head to the sound of his voice, horrified. Never in a million years did I think Asher Anderson would be at my house on a Friday night. For one, there’s the issue with our parents that he seems to have forgotten. But also, I imagine curling up at seven PM with a rom-com and a half-empty bowl of popcorn isn’t his thing.
I reach for one of the three throw blankets Mom keeps on the couch to cover up with. I’m not indecent, but the flannel Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer pajama pants I’m wearing aren’t exactly flattering and, most importantly, I’m not wearing a bra. I’m sure Asher has seen his fair share of boobs, but the thought of him seeing my nipples through my red tank top is unnerving.
“What are you doing here?”
Asher glides across my living room and lifts my stretched out legs to sit on the far end of the couch. I pull my knees in to give him more space, but he grabs my ankles and sets my feet in his lap. At first, I'm too stunned to pull them back, but then he speaks and my stomach drops. “It’s been a week. We have a double date with Liam and Corah. Remember?”
“Oh, no, we do not!”
The last thing I want to do is hang around with those two tonight. I'm used to Liam cuddling in the hallway and occasionally giving his girlfriend of the moment a quick kiss. With Corah, though, every time I turn around, they’re in a full-blown make out session. Her hands are always on him, roaming his body. Hair. Shoulders. Stomach. Between his legs. It makes me physically sick to watch.
Asher smiles and reaches for my green fuzzy-sock-clad foot. He digs his thumb into the sole of my heel and rubs out knots I didn't know existed. My head falls back against the armrest of the couch, a quiet moan escaping my lips.
I close my eyes and let myself forget that, a little over a week ago, this wouldn’t have been possible because I severely disliked Asher. I wouldn’t say hate, because there were times he surprised me, but it was close.
I will say that Asher has blown me away the past two weeks. If he ever decided to have a girlfriend, for real, he’d be a pretty great boyfriend. He’s abandoned our old lunch table, with Liam and the cheerleaders, to sit with me and my friends at the far end of the cafeteria. Whenever he gets the chance, which is more often than I expected, he finds me in the hallway to escort me to class, all while trying to hold my hand. And, much to my surprise, every time he touches my skin, something deep inside me stirs to life. Feelings I’d squandered years ago rear their ugly heads, and I don’t like it.
“El??
?? Asher queries, his voice soft and soothing.
“Hmm?” I don’t want to open my eyes. When I do I’ll have to acknowledge the feelings inside me by pretending they don't exist. I thought fake dating Asher would be easy—I haven’t liked him since fifth grade, haven't even considered us friends since sixth—but separating what’s real and what’s not is turning out to be harder than I thought.
Asher switches to my other foot and I melt deeper into the couch.
“Will you please come to Kyler’s party with me tonight? Now that I have a fake girlfriend, I’ll look like a total dick if I go without you.”
I exhale a heavy breath and open my eyes. I’ve been to a total of two parties during my high school life and both were disasters. I expect tonight to be no different. I rarely drink and don’t have the patience for blubbering idiots. Also, when Liam brought me, I would end up ditched and have to find a way home. Asher looks at me, patiently waiting for my response with my foot in his hand.
“I'm not the party type.” I’m sure he already knows this. Just like he knows why I don’t like going out.
“Me either.”
That can’t be true. All Asher does on the weekends is party and find girls to swap spit with. Along with other juices.
“Between football and work, I haven’t gone to a party since January. I’ve worked every spare minute I could during the season. Now that it’s over, I’m supposed to cover the weekend shift, but I convinced my manager at Lindy’s Diner to give me Friday nights off until the end of the semester. People need to see us together, outside of school, to believe we are a real couple.” Asher sets my foot down but still holds onto my legs.
“Do you think that’s necessary? Things have been fine the past few weeks. Maybe we should keep them how they are.” I’m having a hard time grappling with the fact that if Asher is telling the truth, he doesn’t fit into the mold I’ve crafted for him. It’s jarring. First Asher is sweet and considerate and now he doesn’t party. What’s next? Is his revolving door of girls a lie too?
“Are you ashamed to be seen with me, Ellie?”
“Not ashamed, just getting used to it,” I confess. “You’ve got to admit, this is weird.”
Asher shakes his head and flashes a playful smile.
I tuck my lips between my teeth, fighting a grin of my own. When he looks at me like this, I don’t see the jerk who thought picking on me was funny. I see the kid I used to watch movies with after school. The kid who braided my hair and ate all the chocolate chip cookies then blamed me so he wouldn’t get in trouble. I miss that Asher.
“Not weird, Ellie. This is fate. We were always supposed to be in each other’s lives. We just got a little off track.”
“If we’re going to do this, go to parties and be together outside of school, there needs to be rules.” Because if I don’t set some kind of guidelines, this could go horribly wrong. The last thing I need is to be caught in a whirlwind of hormones and let Asher down my pants. I’m human. I have needs.
But not with him.
“Rules are meant to be broken.”