Chapter 12

When we started walking on the sidewalk, we didn't talk or hold any conversation. The whole way, I walked with him followed slightly behind me. I did have a feeling something like this would happen.

I was just hoping tonight would go well and I'd get a little background on him so I know what I'm dealing with. Crossing fingers he wasn't a secretive, trust-issues type of guy.

This would never work if both of us were exactly the same. Personality-wise. Secretive and secretive people were like two fires fighting to be the next ash. Two people, fighting fire with fire. While the water bucket stayed in corner and no one put out the fire.

Fighting fire with its own game.

We reached my house and I put my ear to the door. I didn't hear anything so the coast was clear. I unlocked the door with one of my keys and opened it. Walking inside, I threw my backpack on the couch when we walked in the living room.

"Nice interior." He complimented, looking around. I still thought the exterior and interior was boring nonetheless. Bland pale white with some brown furniture. That's how you know we're a boring family.

No Halloween decorations were found anywhere, my parents only believed Christmas was worth spending their coin on. They would never change even if they wanted to.

I sat on one of the stools in the kitchen and noticed the banana and apples we had in a bowl. I turned my gaze away from it, not leading in the temptation.

Ashton, however, walked towards them and grabbed an apple. I raised an eyebrow at him while he took a bite out of it. He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"What?" He asked, with a bite of apple still in his mouth, "am I not allowed to enjoy your hospitality?" he added as he took another bite of the apple.

I shrugged, looking away as I got out a piece of paper and pencils from his backpack that was sitting on the stool next to mine.

He removed his back and sat on the seat his backpack originally was and sat it next to him. He grabbed out the paper he had previously written on in English and checked his notes.

I was good with horror movies, had the most out of all the other genres. Writing horror was my forte.

"Do you want to add anymore genres or just keep it to a horror story?" I thought about it and shrugged. "We can just do horror or we can add a little crime, thriller, action. Stuff that a normal horror movie or story has."

He arched an eyebrow at me, "No romance, right?" I faked gagged in response. I hated horror movies that had a touch of romance in them. People just couldn't hold themselves from making a horror movie just a horror movie.

"Yeah, I'm done with those stereotypical directors writing a script where two of the main characters fall in love when the characters should be getting out of the hell hole instead of banging each other." I implied.

Ashton nodded in agreement. It was nice to know someone other than Blaze agreed with me that romance and horror do not mix.

The different between Ashton and Aiden was Aiden was a huge romantic, hopeless romantic. Ashton didn't seem like that kind of guy which I liked, but that just decreased my chances of once again rushing this bet.

"Okay, so just horror?" He asked, interrupting ny thoughts. I realized my gaze was on the table and I looked up, meeting his eyes. I nodded and he started jotting things down.

"So," I started, "tell me something about yourself."

He looked back at me and raised an eyebrow. "Like?" He asked, letting me finish the sentence.

I didn't really care what he told me, I only cared about getting some more background about him.

When he realized I wasn't answering, that made him realise what my answer would be.

Anything.

"Well I have a younger brother and I live with my dad." He replied and all I did was nod.

A lot can tell you about a person just from their answers. Him telling me something simple to start with gave me a signal he kept to himself. I would know.

He started with family since that's the most common thing people will talk about when they first meet someone.

Then they'll talk about friends, their jobs, but if they don't tell you something that's actually about themselves, that's how you know what type of person they are.

He has trust issues.

He didn't mention his mom, giving me an idea that either his parents divorced or she died. I wanted to push it, but realized if he did have trust issues he would either lie or ignore my question. Or snap at me.

"I said something about yourself, like actually something. Something you like or do. Don't give me that family crap."

He looked at me, examining my blank expression. I didn't let any emotion eclipse my features. He turned away once he gave up on trying to read me and I looked back at the black piece of paper I had.

"What about you?" He asked and I looked up. He didn't meet my eyes, he kept his gaze on the paper he was writing on.

I decided to also say something simple. If he wanted to play that way, then fine. I'd play his game and turn it into my own.

"I live with my parents and my older sister goes to college."

He chuckled and I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You're such a hypocrite." He stated and I got defensive.

"How?" He looked back at me and narrowed his eyes, giving me a stern look. "You made a big deal when I answered you with a simple response, yet you do the exact same thing and question why I call you out for it."

My eyes widen at his reply. I wasn't used to getting told off, and if I'm being honest I wasn't complaining about it. I was tired and annoyed at always getting my way. I just wished someone would tell me off about something I did.

Who knew Ashton Hart would make that 7/11 wish come true.

"Wow." was all that escaped from my lips. Too many thoughts bursted in my mind to process, and I was only able to let one word leave my thoughts from my mouth.

"Wow?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Do you not usually get told off, Miss. Perfect?"

Hearing the nickname made my chest tighten and I didn't want to respond. I couldn't even if I wanted to. If anything, my life was far from perfect. Let's start with the reason why I'm even here with Ashton. I'm being blackmailed.

Would a perfect person have to deal with this stress?

"Perfect is a lie." I replied through gritted teeth.

I clenched a fist under the table, fighting the urge to accidentally punch him. Even though my fist was asking to have his blood on it, I held the urge.

I wasn't a complete impulsive person, but sometimes my actions got the better of me. That ended with someone getting blood on the floor and a bruise let from my fist.

As much as I wish I could slap his face, I knew that wouldn't make things better. Well, it'd make me feel a little better, but my two months would be wasted on spending my coin on his hospital fees.

"What, do you have experience with imperfectness, Miss. Perfect-," I grabbed his wrist and gripped it as tight as I could.

"Call me that again and the next few words that'll come out of your mouth will be nothing, but groaning and coughing."

He pierced into my eyes with those hazel eyes of his with disbelief and I let nothing, but tempestuous expose beneath my features.

He forced his hand away and stared at me, showing no emotion. I looked away. For s moment I regretted letting myself get out of control. Impulsive actions like that could ruin my chances with this bet.

Call me insensitive, but yes that's all I care about. Not if I hurt him, but if I gave him the wrong impression of myself.

"Well I was waiting for that."

I looked up and met his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows and he cleared his throat.

"I was waiting for you to lay off this whole "Perfect Princess" bullshit. I mean Robin, why am I even here?" He asks, waiting for me to answer. I don't.

I look away, crossing my arms.

"We're working on a project," I reply, but he isn't cutting my crap, "Really? Cause it looks like we're talking about ourselves and getting into an argument." He answered quickly.

I don't even attempt to meet his eyes, I wasn't letting him win this fight. He just was waiting for me to give up.

"Ashton, I'm sorry, I just want to know who I'm going to be dealing with for two weeks." I apologize, softly.

He raises an eyebrow at my sudden change in attitude. I knew it would be too risky acting nice towards him, I mean when we met I didn't even attempt to act benign.

I needed to find out more about him. What type of girls does he like? Easy/softies? If that was his type, I was in major trouble. I was practically the opposite.

"Robin, what are you doing?" He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why are you pretending to be nice?" He added and I opened my mouth, but no words had come out.

I should have seen this coming. It was a major risk changing my attitude towards him when I'm pretty sure he knew damn well what my personality truly was.

Anything, but respectful.

I couldn't argue with him, he was right. I didn't want to back down because I never give up on winning a fight or argument. As stubborn as it sounds, I had my pride. And I wouldn't let some new kid intimidate me.

"What do you mean I'm pretending?" I asked, sounding offended.

We both knew I was putting up an act. This guy wasn't so easy to manipulate. I needed to find a weak spot. Once I did, I'd have him wrapped around my finger, now the question was what was his weak spot.

What was he afraid of?

"When we first met, you had no shame in being a bitch to me. Now, you act like some sweetheart? Call me skeptical, but that's pretty suspicious if you ask me."

I bit my lip, hiding the nervousness and he noticed. An amused smirk played on his lips and I wanted to punch that stupid smirk from his face.

But I held the urge.

I cleared my throat and looked away. "So the project," I began, changing the subject, "what's the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of a horror story?"

I could feel his eyes on me and I chewed the inside of my lip. I didn't face him, I just waited for him to respond. He sighed and picked up his pieces of paper and brought out a pen as I started sketching on my paper.

"I had some ideas. We could-," He was cut off from his phone.

We both looked at his backpack and he groaned, getting his phone out.

"Hold on." Was all he said before he disappeared into my living room. I sighed as I continued sketching a rose.

I looked in the middle of the counter where the vase full of red roses sat. I picked one up as I saw how fresh it was and the scent that came with it.

Roses had meant a lot to me. My sister had given me a black rose the day she left for College. Black roses were rare and mostly used for funerals, but what had caught my attention was when she told me they also symbolized new changes.

My whole life, everything always seemed to stay the same. So when my sister told me and our parents she was going to College all the way in England, I didn't know how to react. I wasn't used to new changes.

She taught me that changes in life weren't always a bad thing and I realized I didn't like the same old thing. It got too predictable now and then.

Growing up, I was naïve as a child. I learned things the hard way which made me more flexible and knowledgeable. That's why I hated perfect.

Everything was easy and always stayed the same. No bad would come to you and you wouldn't understand the bad things in life. So when someone called me Miss. Perfect, it pissed me off. I liked the fact I wasn't perfect, I grew more and more from all the chaos I faced.

I was stronger from it.

I placed the rose back in the vase and continued sketching on the piece of paper. I started getting impatient with Ashton and groaned as I got up from the stool and walked into the living room.

I saw him sitting down, still talking on the phone and hid behind a pillar that was a few feet away. I wasn't a noisy person, usually, but I was curious.

"Cass, I know it's hard, I'm dealing with it too you know!" He said, almost yelling.

Cass. The same girl he was talking to on the phone back at school.

"I wasn't even yelli-," he stopped. She probably cut him off. The phone was up to his ear and I couldn't hear what the Cass chick was saying.

Ashton sighed heavily and replied almost whispering, "I'm not too thrilled either, but you have to hang in there."

He nodded and I moved closer to the point where I was behind the couch. I listened closer and heard something from the phone, but it was inaudible for me to hear.

"I know," He responded with a deep voice. I'd be lying if I said that deep voice wasn't sexy. I continued listening in, still unable to hear the other line. Things were getting interesting.

"Okay, babe. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye." He ended the phone call while running a hand through his hair, tugging on it in stress. My throat starts feeling dry and my chest tightens.

Holy shit, I am fucked.

Out of all the guys, I never thought that my fake group of friends would challenge me to go for a guy who has a girlfriend. I didn't even think of that.

I just assumed that Ashton was a single dick. I never once hesitated. He was single, period. I realized now that I really had to think things through. I had to win this bet and fast.

There was no way I could compete with a girl who Ashton likes and probably knows for years. I needed to find what makes him vulnerable and fast.

And I mean really fast.