WTFA: Chapter 3

            “Alright, cool,” Michael said.  “Well, catch you later, dude.”

He turned back around, walking away from Brayden and making his way down the hall.  As good of a friend as Brayden was, Michael didn’t want to stick around.  He didn’t want to hold him back from getting to May--lunch would last for only twenty more minutes, so they wouldn’t have much time to work on their project.  That, and Michael wanted to get to the others and chill with them until the bell would ring.

As he neared the double doors leading into the cafeteria, the noise from inside grew louder, and almost as soon as he picked up his pace a little more did he falter in his steps.  He saw Ashley walk out, her brow furrowed (and he had a feeling he knew the cause).  She seemed to look past him.  Michael glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Brayden was out of sight, likely on his way to the library.

“Looking for Brayden?” he asked her.

            “Yeah,” she said, her attention now on him.  Her eyes (green, like the lush canopy of a tropical forest) lacked the sparkling quality they normally possessed--that was, when the guy she was dating didn’t spoil her mood.  “Have you seen him? I tried texting him but the jerk must’ve turned his phone off.”

            Michael offered a chuckle.  “That sounds like something he would do.  Yeah, I just talked to him not even a minute ago.”

            Ashley looked past him again.  “Can you tell me where he went?”

            “The library.  He has to meet up with May to work on a project.  What? Did he not tell you?”

            “No,” Ashley sighed.  “He snapped at me and ran off.”

            “Oh, what did he snap at you about?”

            “Don’t ask me.”  She crossed her arms, looking down the hall again.  “I was hoping you might know,” she muttered.

            “Nope, sorry.  He didn’t tell me anything.”  But now he knew why he punched that locker.  He’d say whatever Ashley did or said to him must’ve been bad, but then again, Brayden seemed more prone to anger as of late.  He was sure he understood why, too.  The way he saw it, his friend was a typical popular, the kind that would find it difficult to move past high school because it marked the highest point in his life.

            Actually, his highest point had already slipped away.

            “I really need to talk to him,” Ashley muttered.

            “If I were you, I’d wait, and give him some time to cool down.”  Michael shrugged.  “Otherwise you might make him madder.”

            She rolled her eyes in thought and pursed her lips.  They looked soft, and they glimmered under the fluorescent lights from her gloss.  Before he realized it, he was licking his own pair.

            Ashley shrugged her small shoulders, the corners of her mouth tugging downward.  “I guess you’re right.”

            Michael gave her a reassuring smile.  “I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it later.  Why don’t we go in the cafeteria?”

            “You can go ahead,” she said.  “I think I’ll go to my locker.”

            He glanced into the lunchroom.  From here, he could see where the rest of the team and the cheerleaders were sitting.  A few of them at one table threw their heads back in laughter.  He idly wondered what was so funny, but then he let the thought go.  He didn’t feel such a strong need to hang with them now.  He’d rather be with the girl who was almost about to pass him.  “Actually, would you care if I walked with you?”

            She stopped, eyeing him for a moment, and he felt his stomach churn.  She shrugged.  “Sure.”

            Michael barely managed to contain his smile.  As she stepped beside him, he caught a whiff of her perfume.  It had a sort of spiciness to it.  He liked it.

            Silence immediately fell over them when they started toward the stairs.  Michael fidgeted with the hem of his jersey.  As of late, he had been wanting to snag some alone time with Ashley (usually she was pulled into Brayden’s side or among her group of friends), but now that he had it, his mind was blank with things to say.

            “So, how are you liking being the new quarterback?” Ashley asked.

            Michael felt his shoulders relax, and a smile grew on his face.  “It’s great,” he said, glancing at her.  “I love every moment.”  There was more pressure for him to do well, but he had no complaints; he liked being in charge, calling their plays.  He enjoyed feeling as though their success lied mostly in his hands and feeling as though he was the center of the crowd’s attention.  It made him feel important.

            “You’re doing good so far,” she said.  “We haven’t lost a game yet.”  She paused.  “But Brayden did good last year, too.”

            His smile faltered at his friend’s name.  “Yeah, I agree he was pretty good.”

“He must miss it,” Ashley said as they started up the stairs.

Michael shrugged.  “Probably, but the coach made his choice.  It sucks for Brayden, I guess, but it was his fault for not performing that well during tryouts.”  Because of that, their positions were switched, with Brayden as the new halfback.  Honestly, he couldn’t say he felt bad for him.  Maybe it didn’t make him such a good friend, but he enjoyed his new spot on the team.  For so long he had stood in Brayden’s shadow--he had been his Robin--and he was tired of it.  That was why he ran for student body president, so he could stand apart from him for once.  But now he had more than that, in a sport in which they had both grown up together; now it was Brayden who was in his shadow, and Michael had to say he enjoyed basking in the sunlight for a change.

“Did he ever get mad at you?” Ashley asked.  “Because you stole it from him?”

“I didn’t steal it,” Michael said quickly.  He glanced at her, offering a weak smile.  “It’s like I said, he didn’t do that well, so the coach chose someone else.”  He gave a small shrug.  “I got it fair and square.”  He looked over at her again, suddenly realizing that she didn’t mean her word choice seriously.  Now he felt foolish, but he couldn’t help it.  It was a big achievement for him.  He didn’t want it downplayed with some invalid accusation.

“But no, I can’t say he got angry about it,” he continued, then reconsidered.  “Well, I mean, it had to have left him pretty sore.  He just never confronted me about it, and I don’t think he ever argued with the coach.”  Michael chocked it up to Brayden being a good friend who didn’t want to ruin his happiness.  After all, that was a huge loss for him, and, well, Brayden, like both him and May, was a competitive person--for roughly twelve years they had been not just friends, but, in a way, rivals, too.  There was no way someone could calmly accept that kind of loss, not when it essentially knocked them off their pedestal, and not when it meant a rival won.

            “So he was a good sport about it,” Ashley said as they reached the second floor.

“Yep, basically.”  Honestly, though, as good as it was for someone like Brayden to not give him any hell for it, Michael kind of wished it could have invoked some sort of reaction in him.

“I love him so much,” Ashley said, almost as if it was more to herself.  A large smile spread across her face, and he noticed the light, pink hue to her cheeks.

You’ve been dating him for only two weeks, Michael wanted to say, but he knew better than to do so.  He wondered how she could claim such feelings so soon, especially since Brayden didn’t act interested.  It was obvious to everyone--everyone except Ashley, apparently.  He tried talking to Brayden about it earlier in the week, asking him why he was playing her like that, but he never gave him a straight answer.  It irritated him a little.  He was wasting her time when she could go and find someone better, someone who could actually loved her.

Someone like me.  If only he could get her to see that.

Michael knew only a little about Ashley prior to her becoming Brayden’s girlfriend.  He had talked to her a couple of times when she was around some of his other friends, which had been enough for him to learn that she was in the same grade as his sister and that she had moved here last year.  It wasn’t until she started sitting next to Brayden every day at lunch that he had the chance to learn more about her--her interests outside of cheerleading (horseback riding was the biggest one), that she knew what occupation she wanted to have (a vet), that history bored her (who didn’t feel that way?), and that she voted for him for student body president.

Sometime last week he realized he had developed feelings for her.  It was just a crush, he knew, but he wanted it to be more, because he believed there could be something there between them, if she would just open her eyes to see it.  Unfortunately, she was an arm ornament for a guy who couldn’t care less about her, and Michael knew he shouldn’t try anything.  That wouldn’t make him a good friend to Brayden.

They arrived at her locker.  Michael leaned his shoulder against the one to the left of hers.  “You’re coming to Sandy’s party tonight with Brayden, right?”

Ashley shook her head, reaching up to the knob of her locker.  Her nails were painted teal.  “No, he’s coming over to my house.”  She started to enter the combination.  “We’re going to watch a movie.”

“Really? He told me he was coming to the party.”

Her hand stopped the dial as she turned her head toward him.  “When?”

Michael wondered if he should continue with this line of thought, knowing that Ashley wouldn’t like to hear it, but he found himself going ahead with it anyway.  “When I was on my way to the cafeteria.”

“What the hell? He promised me we’d watch a movie.”  Ashley threw her hands up, just barely missing his nose.  “Ugh!” She spun around, falling against her locker.  She brought the back of her head against it, staring at the opposite side of the hall.

A few strands of her wavy, sandy blonde hair cascaded down the front of her shoulder.  Michael was tempted to reach out and brush them back, but, instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

He knew that he probably shouldn’t say any more on the matter, that he shouldn’t upset her over Brayden’s actions any more than what she was currently, but despite that knowledge, he spoke quietly: “It looks like he wants to get drunk instead.”

“I can’t believe he’d rather choose that over me.”

Michael gave a small shrug.  “The guy can be an a*s sometimes.”  He cracked a small smile.  “Trust me, I know.  I grew up with him.”

She rolled her eyes.  She still had yet to look at him.

Despite that, he offered her a small smile.  His gaze drifted down to her lips, and further down from there, past her neck; he stopped just at her collarbone, not wanting to get too carried away, and looked back at her face.  “And sometimes he forgets what should be important to him.”

Finally, she turned her head slightly, just enough to look at him.  “I know he cares about me.  I’ll remind him about what we planned.  He should listen.”

Those green eyes seemed to be searching his.  They pulled him in, but he had leaned in only a fraction of an amount before he caught himself.  Startled, he tried to pass it off as him standing up from the locker he had his shoulder against.  It looked like she didn’t notice anything.  Relaxed again, at least as much as he could be when he felt the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, he shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe he will.”

“I know he will,” she said with a weak smile.  Then, more assuredly: “I have faith in him.”

His smile faltered.  Where there had been doubt there was now confidence--a false sense of it, he realized.  He adjusted the straps on his shoulders, leaving his hands grasping onto them.  “What movie were you going to watch?”

Ashley shrugged.  “A horror one,” she muttered.  “He was supposed to bring one over.”

I could watch one with you, he wanted to say, but he knew it wouldn’t go well received.  He pictured sitting next to her with his arm wrapped around her.  She’d be holding onto him, her head against his shoulder with one eye peeking at the screen.  Every time she’d jump, he’d try to calm her racing heart--lightly stroke her arm, kiss her on the forehead.

Next thing he knew, his lips were pressed against hers--soft, just as he always pictured.  He felt his eyes flutter closed, and just as soon as they had, there was nothing.

His heart skipped a beat.  Hesitantly, he reopened his eyes to see she had stepped back from him, leaning away with her jaw slackened.  Michael just stood there, frozen.  He tried to move his mouth--to say something--but it only twitched.  His mind was empty.  All he could do was stare at her.

Finally, Ashley seemed to snap out of her stupor.  Her lips moved, but her breathless words didn’t register with his ears until a second later: “What the hell?”

Just like that, his brain rebooted, and all at once he felt the pounding of his heart and the sick feeling in his stomach.  A cold sweat started to break out on his forehead.  “I--I’m sor--“

“Go away!” Ashley yelled.  “Get away from me, you creep!”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, taking a couple of steps backward.  “I didn’t mean to.”

Before she could shout any more and before any teachers could pry, he turned and hurried off.