“I- well- they were so mean growing up.” Ash swallowed audibly. Her big green eyes flooded with tears, which hit him right in the gut. God, he wanted to kick his own ass at the moment for making light of her fears. He knew that once someone was wounded, it sat at the heart of a person and no amount of money or fame or things could banish it.
“I know,” he nodded in agreement and sympathy. “My family was pretty poor growing up. I didn’t have nice things or new clothes and it showed. Kids liked to pick on me about it. Because, you know, like being poor is something a kid that age can really help.” He tried, and failed, to keep bitterness out of his tone. “It made me tough though. I got in fights all the time. I was shit in school. Never paid attention and was probably in the principal’s office more times than I was out. When I was older, I got a job. It was just delivering papers, but it helped out. After that, I did the whole restaurant thing for years. It wasn’t much, but I was able to help my mom out. She was a single mom. Worked herself nearly to death to make ends meet for me and my sister. I made sure that we always had clothes and shoes without holes, even if they were second hand. Anyone who bugged me after that or dared to make fun of my sister got an ass kicking. I was probably about sixteen when I grew and filled out enough to be scary. No one said shit after that point.”
Ash smiled softly. She clutched her cup close to her heart, probably without even being aware that she’d done it. “Yeah, it was a little different for me. The picking on thing didn’t get bad until I was eleven. I just didn’t fit in. I wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t ugly. I was just average. And then came the braces and the glasses and the pimples. I was so awkward. I was tall, but I-uh had these breasts that I didn’t know what to do with. Everyone made fun of me in gym class. The way I ran, the way I walked. I was smart and good at school, so they made fun of me for that too. I had a few good friends, but they were bullied just as much as I was. We stuck together. It was stupid, because my brother was the popular one. It was okay for him to like comics and shit because he was a guy, I guess. He was also good looking. He never beat anyone up for me though.”
Trace’s mouth dropped open. “Okay. First of all, I need to stop you there. I think that any girl who was ever mean to you was probably so fucking jealous.”
“Jealous?” Ash appeared genuinely mystified.
“I mean, look at you.” He waved a hand in the air. “You’re incredible. I’m willing to bet that even with braces and glasses and pimples, you were beautiful. And if guys were making fun of you, that’s what guys do to a girl they want to- well- I would say bang, but that’s not classy. Date isn’t the right word either. Maybe- fool around with. They were stupid back then because they couldn’t help themselves. They’d probably be stupid now.”
“I know girls can be catty, but that’s not the reason. I was good at drawing. I used to- well you asked me if I liked writing and I used to make up my own comics. I’d write the stories and draw the characters. I kept my sketchbook to myself, but one day Sonja fucking Wills got a hold of it and showed everyone.”
“What? You made your own comics? That’s fucking bad ass!” Trace enjoyed Ash’s shock. He leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table. “Come on! It’s pretty clear to me that every single person who was ever mean to you was so jealous they had to be a little shit about it.”
Ash rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. No one ever asked me out. No one took me to prom. There was this guy I had a crush on. Jesse Peterson. He was gorgeous. I mean- uh- thought so at the time.” She was blushing again, and it was absolutely adorable. When her expression changed and became horribly sad, Trace fought the urge to find Jesse Peterson and squeeze the life out of him. “Uh- I asked him to prom. It was stupid. It took me half a year to work up the courage. He laughed in my face. And then he let the whole school know about it. I didn’t even go to prom. I told everyone I wasn’t going to go to my grad. I didn’t. I was so humiliated.”