“Oh." I pull back with the feeling that Asher is here this morning, unannounced, because he needs me but doesn't want to admit it. While the unexpected gesture is nice, it couldn't come at a worse possible time. "Um. That’s sweet of you, but I have to leave school early today.”
Asher's brow furrow and his lips tilt down into a frown. “That sucks. Is everything okay?”
I look to the kitchen, to Mom for support, but she and Dad seem to have disappeared. They probably went into his office to talk about Asher and his stepdad. I wish they’d do something to put that man behind bars, but at least Asher will be safe for a few days. “Everything is fine. I’ve got some stuff to do.”
“Like what?”
“It’s nothing.” I bite my lip. From the look on Asher's face, that was a mistake. He can read me, plain as day, which makes me ridiculously excited inside.
“Ellie, you’re a shitty liar. What’s wrong?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and bite my tongue. I can’t find the words to tell Asher where I’m going, let alone why.
“El?” he demands again when I refuse to answer the first time.
I look down at my hands, embarrassed Liam put me in this position, mortified Asher is about to find out my biggest fear. He takes my hands in his and holds them tight, waiting for me to be ready.
“I have an appointment at Planned Parenthood.”
Asher’s face pales, which is a sight to see, considering how fair he is already. He takes my hand and pulls me down the hallway I came from earlier. He has no clue which room is mine, so he stops between my room and the bathroom. I point at the second door.
We walk in and I realize Asher Anderson is in my bedroom. All of the sudden those nervous needles are back. My room is clean, except for the clothes in a basket near my closet. A pastel pink comforter is folded neatly over my bed and my desk is orderly. My biggest fear is that Asher will notice all of the photos on my desk, specifically the ones of me and Liam. Most are from when we were little, but there's two of us since high school.
Asher opens his mouth to speak, but his words get caught in his throat. He looks past me to the bulletin board by my bed and smiles. “I like that picture.”
I look over my shoulder and feel my cheeks flush. I was so worried about what Asher might say seeing Liam’s face all over my desk, I didn’t think about how he might feel about me printing the picture he took of us from my phone. I shrug and play it off as no big deal. “You’re a good photographer.”
“Will you send it to me?”
“Sure.” I close my eyes and let out a slow breath as soon as my back is turned. I walk to my bed, where my phone lays on top of the comforter and open my photos app. I tap at the screen, finding the picture wit
hin a few seconds, and send it to him via text.
“Are you pregnant?” Asher whispers, his breath tickling my ear.
“What?” I jump, dropping my phone at my feet. I turn, not sure if I'm startled by the question or his proximity. “No! Why would you think that?” I look down at my stomach and second guess the pants I have on today. Maybe I should change. “Do I look pregnant?”
Asher's eyes widen as he shakes his head. “No! I just… That’s what Fridays at Planned Parenthood are for.” He looks down at his hands. “Abortions.”
I chew on my lip. I’ve avoided the topic of Asher and his aborted baby since Liam brought it up in the cafeteria a few weeks ago. It never seemed right to openly ask, but now is as good of a time as ever. “Why do you know that?”
Asher exhales a heavy breath then lays back onto my bed. I don't know what to do. Sitting beside him seems too intimate, but standing, staring down at him, makes me seem like a jerk. “My neighbor, Marla, had one last year.”
I sit beside him, one leg under me, my knee touching his side, the other hanging off the bed. “Was it… was it yours?”
Asher tucks one hand under his head. The other settles on my leg. “No. Marla’s piece of shit step brother raped her and her mom wouldn’t sign off on the procedure until she admitted who the real father was. I found Marla crying on her front steps and convinced her to tell me what was wrong. She's always been a good kid. Even though she was two years younger, we used to hang out when we were little. Anyway, I was sick to my stomach when she told me what happened.”
My heart sinks for the girl. “I can’t believe her mother didn’t believe her.”
“I can.” He snorts. "That woman is a piece of shit. Anyway, I said the kid was mine.”
I try to wrap my head around why Asher would claim a kid that wasn't his. He's set to go to college with Liam and me at UF on a football scholarship. Having a baby would throw a monkey wrench into that. There are diapers and late nights and cranky baby mammas and doctor's appointments. Things you can't do when you're training five days a week, playing on Saturday nights, and going to class. “Why would you do that?”
“Because Marla is a good kid with no one in her corner. It’s not like the baby was actually mine. Nothing would have happened to me if she decided to keep it.”
“Did she?”
“No." Asher turns to look at me, his amethyst eyes dark and sorrowful. "I drove her to Planned Parenthood a week later. It’s kind of a scary place. Whatever you’re doing there, you shouldn’t have to go alone.”