Chapter XIII: A Change of Heart

When I got to school, I harbored high hopes that the rest of the day wouldn't be quite as uncomfortable as my encounter with Britt and Dave this morning. Little did I know what was waiting for me.

Walking down the hall during first period, I spotted Ashton in the distance, standing near his locker. Still on a high from the crazy weekend, I could hardly help but smile when I saw him. After all that had gone down on Saturday and Sunday, I was feeling a strange sort of comradery with the delinquent.

Wondering if he was feeling likewise, I waited for him to turn my way. When his eyes met mine, I half expected him to smile like he usually did. The second he spotted me, I was shocked to see all traces of warmth vanish from his gaze. Instead of smiling or even smirking, he frowned at me for a second before turning abruptly and walking down the hall in the opposite direction.

I knew he'd seen me. How could he not have seen me after he stared right into my soul? And yet anyone with eyes could have seen that his stare had been more of a glare. Hardly letting myself believe I'd seen correctly, I watched Ashton's silhouette as he disappeared into the crowd.

I was befuddled to say the least. Just yesterday, he had been telling me his family secrets, and now he was back to glaring at me. What could have possibly gone wrong in the meantime?

These thoughts occupied my brain for the rest of the morning until lunch period, one of the only periods I shared with Ashton. I was somehow filled with both dread and impatience at the thought of seeing him again—dread, because I did not want my fears to be founded; impatience, because I wanted to confirm that I'd been wrong in what I'd seen this morning.

I entered the cafeteria warily, and, almost immediately, my gaze was seeking out Ashton. To my disappointment, I could not seem to find him, although I did see Britt waving me over. Hesitating for a second, I scanned the room one more time before starting toward Britt.

Hardly paying a spec of attention to where I was going, I suddenly collided with a hard force. Exclaiming in surprise, I whipped my head up to see what, or whom, I had bumped into. "Sorry!" I exclaimed, but then my eyes fell on him.

Ashton. Ashton, whose lunch was now painted all across his shirt. Ashton, whose face was carved in ice.

My lips parted in shock, as all coherent thought made its exodus. "S—sorry!" I stuttered again, praying that Ashton would stop glaring at me.

But his face only hardened as he stared at me. Through gritted teeth, he warned in a voice colder than any I'd ever heard, "Watch where you're going."

"Ash, I didn't mean to—"

He didn't even let me finish. "You think I care? It's still your fault."

What? For real, what is going on with him?

Instead of apologizing again, I balled my hands into fists and stood my ground. I knew it wasn't fun getting food spilled all over your shirt, but Ashton was starting to irritate me with his whole stony act which had come out of seemingly nowhere.

Narrowing my eyes, I talked back. "Look. I said I was sorry. Do you have to be such a jerk about it? It was an accident."

"What?" Ashton said the word in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe I would have the nerve to challenge him—as if this were the first time. "Do you think it matters to me whether it was an accident or not? The damage was done either way."

"And I said I was sorry!" I snapped, my voice raised a notch louder this time. "So would you stop being a baby and accept my apology?"

He smiled, but a smile void of warmth might as well be a frown. "Your apology? You think I'm stupid, Maine? Apologies don't mean a thing."

I grit my teeth together in ire, hardly believing the way he was acting today. What could have gotten him so riled up? Suddenly it didn't matter anymore, though. The reasons no longer meant anything, just like my apologies. "Ugh!" I exhaled in disgust. "I take it back then! I'm not sorry I spoiled your stupid shirt, you jerk."

"Good," he sneered down at me, his expression so ugly, I could hardly believe he was the same person who'd confessed to me yesterday.

Wanting nothing more than to wipe that stupid sneer off his face, I considered punching him, but I realized that that wouldn't do much in the long run, especially since our argument had gathered us a bit of an audience. I didn't particularly want to go to detention again. Thus, I did my best to refrain from using my fists, instead stepping closer to Ash and spitting, "You're pathetic, and you know it! I hope that shirt is ruined forever!"

Before he could reply, I turned away from him and charged out of the cafeteria. Once in the safety of the hallway, I finally allowed myself to bring my hands to my head. What had just happened? Why had I even said those things? Why were we even fighting in the first place? And why was he so infuriating?

Running my hands through my hair in frustration, I stared up at the ceiling for an answer, but all that greeted me was a blank gray stare. I sighed in resignation, before looking back at the door to the cafeteria. I knew I had to go back, but I wished with all my heart that I didn't have to. I didn't want to look at that punk again.

To prolong my absence, I paid the bathroom a visit, but that only took about five minutes, and I soon found myself plodding on back to the cafeteria. I guess it's now or never. I'm not missing lunch over some stupid boy.

After taking a deep breath, I cautiously approached the cafeteria entrance and stepped inside. The cafeteria had gone back to normal after only those five minutes I was gone. Thankful, but still wary, I continually looked over my shoulder as I got my lunch and walked over to where Britt was sitting.

When I looked my best friend in the face, I found her to be staring at me with wide eyes. I gave her a look, to which she responded by opening her mouth and hissing, "Are you crazy?"

Wincing, I glanced around furtively to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied that I was no longer under the scrutiny of unwanted eyes, I muttered to Britt, "He asked for it."

"Yeah, no doubt—but are you crazy?" she repeated as if I had not heard her the first time.

Sighing, I muttered, "No. No, I'm not crazy." When Britt still stared at me incredulously, I tried to explain. "I don't know what's wrong with Ash today, but ever since I saw him in the hall this morning, he's been acting off key. And I'm telling you—I had nothing to do with it. At least, I don't think I did. It's not like I trashed his locker or anything. "

Unconvinced, Britt tilted her head to the side and speculated, "It might be something else, but as far as I'm concerned, you're the only person he's yelled at today. He seemed fine in math; he even let Maria Collins borrow his pencil sharpener. So as far as I'm concerned, this has everything to do with you."

Irritated by her words, I bit forcefully into my tasteless ham sandwich and said through mouthfuls, "So this is my fault? What did I do?"

"For one," Britt all too eagerly said, "you spilled your food all over him. I mean, just look at the poor oaf."

Grinding my teeth petulantly, I refused to look over at Ashton's table. Instead, I dismissed Britt's explanation by reminding her that Ashton had been mad at me before I'd ruined his shirt. "What about that?" I wondered saucily. "What's your reasoning for that? Please, I'm dying to know."

Britt just shook her head at me and exhaled loudly. "Look, all I'm saying is that you may have had something to do with Ashton's bad mood. I know you didn't do anything on purpose, but did you say something to him over the weekend that he may have taken the wrong way?"

Pausing to think, I racked my brain for an answer. What exactly had happened this past weekend? On Saturday, Ashton had dragged me into that whole confrontation with Rowlett and Fern. Later that day, Josh and Dave had come over. Then on Sunday, Ash had talked to Wade on the phone, and I had somehow ended up hugging him. After that, Daphne had come over and spent the rest of the afternoon with us.

Maybe I was a total fool, but I was inclined to think that those experiences had brought me closer to Ashton, not further from him. So why was he so ill-tempered toward me today? Turning my gaze to Britt, I murmured in defeat, "I honestly have no idea."

She narrowed her eyes before questioning, "Did you do anything with him that you don't usually do?"

"Well, we…" I trailed off, unsure what I should tell Britt. I didn't particularly want to tell her about Ash's mom. For some reason, it felt as if that were a secret between him and me. As for Rowlett… "I guess I was his partner in crime for about an hour," I offered.

Her eyebrows raising, my best friend pounced on the confession. "And what crime was this, exactly?"

Groaning, I tried to explain. "It wasn't really a crime. It's just that he and I got in a bit of a fight with this scary dude outside the archeology museum?" It came out as more of a question, as if I were doubtful of what had actually transpired.

Britt, of course, was all too excited about this news, though, as she eagerly pried for more details. "A fight? A scary dude? What happened to the Maine I know?"

Covering my face in embarrassment, I took a deep breath before launching into a long and confusing explanation that sadly did nothing to satiate Britt's ravenous appetite for gossip. Her appetite only increased, and by the time the bell rang, she'd asked more questions than I cared to or had the will to answer.

And regrettably, by the end of our conversation, I had no more insight about Ashton's behavior than I'd had this morning. All I could do was hope that tomorrow his conduct would change in my favor. Deep down, I knew that was a fool's hope.

Tuesday proved to be no more my friend than Monday had. Again, it was plagued with the same two things that had haunted the previous day, the only difference being that they were intensified today. The Britt issue was not altogether injurious, but it added to my Ashton Savvonski dilemma was simply a headache waiting to happen.

Britt was the first person I saw on my way to school, as usual. The instant I saw her, I knew something was up. My friend had always been pretty and put together, but today she almost looked like she was trying too hard.

Now I didn't say that lightly—Britt always wore makeup and took care of her appearance. But today her face of makeup almost made her unrecognizable. She'd traded her usual natural look for a bizarre, attention-grabbing one. I mean, she looked good, as she always did. But she almost seemed other-worldly.

And then there was her outfit. She was sporting a low cut cropped T and a black mini skirt that I was sure did not pass the dress code. Most shocking to me was her footwear. Instead of wearing her favorite white chucks, she was now styling a set of bright red heels.

The Britt I knew would never go to school in a pair of heels. She'd once told me something about looking good without killing your ankles—she'd followed it up with a story about how a girl on the cheerleading squad had sprained her ankle by wearing heels all day at school and had to miss out on that year's cheer competition.

It honestly made no difference to me who wore heels or not, but this just wasn't like Britt. I felt like I was losing a hold on the friend that I'd known so well for the last six years.

I guess I should have been expecting the change, but I hadn't thought it would happen so abruptly. It was only yesterday that my best friend had asked Dave for help, and now she'd adjusted her whole look. No doubt she looked hot today, but she'd always been hot.

For the sake of Britt's feelings, I tried my best not to let my disappointment show when I greeted her. She smiled at me happily, and I forced myself to return the gesture. Well, I promised myself, as long as she's happy, I won't question the style change. I'm probably overreacting anyway.

Our walk to school felt a bit weird to me, but no words passed between us concerning Britt's new fashion choices. Conversation did pass between us concerning Dave and Josh.

"So I met with Dave this morning," Britt informed me cheerfully.

A trifle surprised, I said, "Really? Already?"

"Yeah, don't you remember yesterday I told him to meet me at school?" When I shook my head, she went on, "Well, he didn't think meeting at school was the best idea, so he stopped by my house instead to go over our plan for today."

Frowning, I puzzled, "What plan?"

Smirking, Britt answered mysteriously, "You'll see."

I felt like groaning out loud, but opted to do it in my head instead. This was going to be either really embarrassing for Britt, or really painful for me.

Now that Britt was beginning her mission, I was starting to question whether or not she and Josh would be a good pair. Britt got all starry-eyed about Josh, but had Josh ever spared Britt a second glance? Sure, he'd flirted with her in the library, but he flirted with everyone.

Would he fall for her? Maybe. Maybe he'd even date her for a bit, but now that I thought it over, I couldn't recall him ever being in a long committed relationship. He'd always been a one week to one month kind of guy as far as I could remember. But I didn't want to upset Britt, so I just listened mutely as she started chattering about how "amazing" and "perfect" Josh was.

By the time we separated to go to our classes, I'd about had enough of the name Josh. Sadly, I actually shared one of my classes with him, so I was forced to glare at the back of his head throughout all of second hour.

Then lunch time came, and I headed for the cafeteria, hoping that today would not be a repeat of yesterday. I knew I should not have let Ash get to me, but I had, and now there was no way around it.

Carefully entering the cafeteria and slinking over to one of the food lines, I offered the students in the vicinity a furtive glance. For some reason, I felt as if there were eyes on my back, but I refused to prove my hypothesis by turning to check.

I felt somewhat ridiculous for being so paranoid, but I couldn't help myself from gripping my lunch tray as if it were my lifeline. The lunch ladies seemed to smell my fear, for they smiled cruelly at me as they spooned today's special—some sort of highly processed slop—onto my unsuspecting plate. I winced slightly as I returned their smiles.

When I'd reached the end of the line, I glanced to my left and right before heading in the direction of Britt's and my usual table—which, strangely enough, was still empty. So far, so good. I thought hopefully, my paranoia beginning to fade.

I let my guard down too soon, for it was only a second later that Ashton appeared out of nowhere, and then he was right in front of me before I had the chance to react. One second everything was fine; in the next, I found myself covered in the same slop that the lunch ladies had plopped on my plate a minute ago.

I could hardly believe it. Ashton had just overturned my tray so that my lunch spilled all over me. And he had clearly done it on purpose.

After I had stared at my shirt for a few seconds in shock, I finally looked back up into the jerk's face. "What was that for?" I all but shouted at him.

"Just returning the favor." He appeared disgustingly pleased with himself as he said it, causing me to fight the urge to shove him. Ashton seemed to sense this, for his smirk grew meaner, haughtier.

Staring at him in disbelief, I could barely get the words out coherently. "You are so pathetic. I can't even—you just—you sicken me!"

He just smiled cruelly in response. "Glad I could be of assistance, Maine."

I never thought my name could sound so derogatory, but spoken in that voice, with that expression, it made me wish never to hear my name uttered again. But it shouldn't have surprised me, coming from someone like him.

Someone like him. The thought ran through my head over and over again as my gaze was drawn into the abyss of Ashton's unsympathetic glare. All at once it dawned on me that this might be the true Ashton—that all his previous kindness had been a façade.

I had begun to think that he had a soft side, that he was even my friend. But what if the Ashton I'd met in detention was the true Ashton? I knew I couldn't afford to think of such things, but my mind had already gone too far astray. It was with the consideration that Ashton might be heartless after all that I felt a pathetic tear threaten to spill from the corner of my right eye.

Ashton saw it. And he laughed.

"What?" he said in the most infuriating tone he'd used yet. "Are you crying now?"

Clenching my fists, I did my best to steadily hold his gaze. I would not let him see me break. I could not show him any more signs of weakness. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I at last spoke, "Sorry, Ashton, but I don't care enough to cry over someone like you."

He stared at me for a while, as if considering my words. Then, appearing utterly unconvinced, he muttered, "Good."

It was so infuriating that he knew I was lying, but there was simply nothing I could do about it, except pretend that it wasn't the case. Thus, ignoring his knowing stare, I looked back down at my shirt, and, taking a handful of the slop, I looked back up at him vengefully. I prided myself in the fact that there were no tears in my eyes as I reached out with my slop-filled hand and shoved it right against the middle of Ashton's T-shirt.

Ashton stared down at my hand in disbelief before returning his gaze to my face. He was furious. Smiling at him happily, I chirped, "Glad I could be of assistance!"

Then, before he could utter another word, I turned tail and fled.

I ran so blindly that when I finally came to a halt, I hardly had the sense to recall the path I had taken at all. Blinking through a layer of saltwater, I acknowledged glumly my location. Just making out the structure of the back staircase, I let myself collapse on it. I didn't try to stop the tears this time.

I wished I could figure out how things had come to this, but all I could do was let the water stream down my cheeks. The only comprehensive thought my brain would foster was of how pathetic I was. Simply pathetic. How could I have let Ashton get close enough to my heart to hurt me? Why had I let him? And why had I been so stupid as to not realize my growing attachment?

I had started this whole scheme with the thought of getting revenge on him, but somehow he had turned it on me. And I hadn't even had the sense to see what he was doing. I was a complete and utter fool.

And just like that, Tuesday went down in a pathetic puddle of tears. I never did get to see Britt's scheme, nor did I care to. I left school before I had the chance to run into her, and when she called me, I considered not answering at all. I did, of course, for fear of being a jerk to my best friend.

I took no pleasure in that phone call, in part because it was mainly composed of Britt's lecturing me on how I had "purposefully avoided" her and Dave's "brilliant plan."

It mattered not how many times I denied her accusations—when Britt was set on something, she was stubborn as an ox. Thus, our phone call ended on a sour note, and I kicked myself once again for everything I'd done wrong today.

It didn't end with Tuesday, though. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. The whole school week seemed to be composed purely of Ashton's malicious glares and words said behind my back. The fact that there was no school on Friday seemed to be a blessing sent from heaven.

Unfortunately, my boss had other ideas.