Unexpected

“See, this is why I don’t give you compliments.” Asher smirks and sets the soda on his tray.

I have no food in front of me and can’t stomach the thought of eating. He notices and tosses his bag of potato crisps across the table. It lands an inch away from the edge and bumps into my elbow.

“I don’t have the patience to deal with your crap today, Asher. What do you want?”

“I want to know why you're sitting all alone like a lost puppy in a cardboard box and not at our table.” He points to where a few of the cheerleaders have perched in the center of the cafeteria. They laugh at each other’s jokes while waiting for either Liam or Asher to join them. “Just because Liam pushed you to the back burner again doesn’t mean you’ve been exiled.”

I grab the bag of chips, having every intention of shoving it back at him, until my stomach rumbles. The pain from not having eaten anything since breakfast yesterday sets in and almost makes me double over. I begrudgingly open the bag of sour cream and cheddar and crunch on the first crisp I grab. It’s like heaven in my mouth, making my stomach rumble again, begging for more.

“I’ve never belonged with you guys. I’m not pretty like those girls, or popular,” I finally say.

“Don’t do that,” Asher demands, his tone serious and cold.

It startles me because, in Asher’s mind, I either don’t exist or have been put on the earth for his amusement. He takes pleasure in exploiting my quirks as entertainment for him and whoever else may be around. This new, somber side is unnerving.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You're prettier than every girl in this room. Never forget that.”

I’m taken back by the compliment. I can’t tell if Asher is sincere or trying to make me feel better because of how shitty today has been. Either way, I don’t need him or his faux sympathy. I roll my eyes then crumble the newly empty chip bag and toss it back onto his tray. “Yeah, okay.”

Asher shakes his head, the brooding expression he’s known for back in place. That’s better. Too much more of this mood swing and I might be fooled into thinking he cares. “Why do you hate me?”

I look around the cafeteria, scanning the lunch line for Maggie’s fire engine red hair. She should have been here five minutes ago. I exhale a sigh, realizing she probably got caught up with Mr. Alverson and that Asher is going to keep his I-am-your-friend charade going. “You ripped the head off my favorite doll.”

Asher leans his elbows on the table. His dark brows pull together, amethyst eyes staring into my soul. I shudder from the intensity but don’t look away because, in this light, they almost have a blue hue. It’s not often that I’m this close to Asher, actually paying attention to him. They’re fascinating.

“First of all, I never ripped her head off,” he states so matter of factly, I would have believed him had I not seen him clutching baby Ariel’s hair in his hands all those years ago. “And we were seven. Don’t you think it’s time to let that go?”

In truth, I have let it go, but in my head, this excuse doesn’t sound as pathetic as admitting he hurt my feelings. That I haven’t gotten over being called shark bait. “Liam told me I shouldn’t be alone with you. He says you’re not the guy you pretend to be.”

Asher picks up his burger with both hands, then takes a bite. Something so natural as eating should not be so fascinating, but the man moves with fluidity and grace. I never noticed it before and can’t stop watching. Grease drips onto the paper plate and down his arm. He sets the burger down, wipes his arm with a napkin, and then his mouth.

“Tell me, how is blindly following Liam working out for you again?”

He smirks and something inside me flutters. My lips turn down into a frown. I must be emotionally traumatized if I’m finding Asher appealing. I refuse to fall into the mosh pit of girls that lose their minds because they think he is attractive. Nope. Just nope.

I look around the cafeteria, desperate to find Maggie. She would set me straight and shoo him away. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like she is going to make it in time for lunch today.

My ears perk at the sound of a boisterous laugh that’s cut short. I look up and over to the door, already knowing what I’ll find. Liam stares at me, teeth clenched, fists balled at his sides. While he and Asher may be friends, there’s a lot of tension between them. Sometimes I wonder if they have the keep-your-friends-close-enemies-closer thing going on.

Liam shakes free from Corah’s love hold and storms across the cafeteria. People move out of the way because they aren't used to seeing this side of him off the football field. They don’t know about his temper. Liam works hard to hold the persona he’s created.

“What the fuck are you doing over here?”

I can’t tell if Liam is talking to me or Asher. It doesn’t matter, he looks murderous. His broad chest heaves up and down with each strained breath. He ignores Corah as she snakes her arms around his waist again, focusing on me for an extra second. For a moment, I can’t help but wonder, Is he jealous?

“Ellie and I wanted some alone time. Didn’t we, El?” Asher winks at me and my cheeks flush against my will. Being alone with Asher is the last thing I want. He’s arrogant and selfish and has a crude sense of humor. What’s he playing at?

“You’re joking.” Liam all but laughs. He’s pissed and it puts me on edge. Twice now he’s gotten mad at me, and I don’t know how to feel. Especially since I haven’t done anything wrong. “Him? Of all the people you could be fucking, you chose him? What the hell, Lainey?”

“I… um…” A balloon inflates in my lungs pushing on the magic button that starts my waterworks. I hate that Liam is upset with me, but I’m crushed he’d assume I’m screwing someone else. Does he think I’m that easy?

“I knew it,” Liam mumbles when I can’t formulate a sentence that doesn’t betray how hurt I am. He runs a hand through his hair, then shakes his head. His eyes narrow and fixate on Asher and I fully understand the phrase if looks could kill. “You're just like your mom. You can’t stay away from what isn’t yours.”

I don’t have time to figure out what Liam means before Asher stands, fists balled at his side, and says, “Really? You're going there?” He runs his tongue over his teeth and then makes a clicking sound. “Fine. You’re no better than your dad. Can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“Fucking prick!” Liam smacks Asher’s soda off of his tray and the carbonated drink sprays everywhere. Once the can stops spinning, what’s left of the brown liquid spreads across the table, sliding off the edge and into my lap. My lip quivers as I look down at the mess that was Maggie’s clothes. Her skirt is soaked and her blouse is ruined, the front now more brown than white.