Isla only shot him a flat look in response, choosing not to dignify the gibe with a reply.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Asa mumbled as he went back to doing whatever he’d been doing. “You know I love hearing about your thoughts. Your dreams, goals, if your stars have finally aligned.” He glanced at his best friend sideways and shot her a cheeky grin.
“Sometimes I forget how much of a dick you can be,” Isla said, but there was amusement in her tone. “And then you remind me.”
“Yet you still put up with me.”
Isla only grunted in reply.
Asa had learnt a long time ago that Isla wasn’t the kind to have heart-to-hearts, and she stuck to grunting or making some sort of noncommittal noise in the back of her throat whenever the conversation ventured into any possible emotional territory.
So it wasn’t a surprise, really, when Isla didn’t say something sentimental that ran along the lines of Of course, I put up with you, Ace, you’re my best friend.
It didn’t matter though; Asa knew her grunt was more out of affection than discomfort.
“So, what’s up?” Asa asked instead.
“I…” Isla’s voice trailed away as her eyes focused on something else in the distance, past Asa’s shoulders. And then Isla’s posture stiffened. “Donoghue incoming,” she muttered under her breath, her icy blue eyes narrowing the slightest bit. As much as Isla didn’t get into touchy-feely topics, she was quite protective of Asa.
Hunter approached, and Asa didn’t need to turn his head around to know it was him. He could detect that cold, hateful aura radiating off Hunter anywhere, any time.
Asa held his breath, waiting for another snide comment that would send him spiralling down a road in search of self-validation. Down a road where he gave in to his impulsive nature far too easily just so that he could feel better. Feel assured.
To his surprise, nothing came.
No gibe, no bitter remark, not even a deliberate shove of the shoulder.
“Maybe hell finally froze over,” Isla suggested once Hunter was out of earshot. Apparently, she’d been thinking the same thing as Asa.
“Nah, I think it’s you,” he said instead. “I have a feeling you intimidate him.”
“I intimidate all the guys,” she muttered bitterly, looking away and into nothingness.
Asa shut his locker and turned to face his friend. “Shut up,” he said. “If they can’t accept your being unafraid to voice your opinions, then that’s their problem.” He threw an arm around Isla’s shoulders and began steering them towards the school doors. “You’ll meet someone who’s man enough to appreciate you, until then—”
“—keep slaying,” she grinned, bumping her hips with his in a nonverbal I-love-you.
“Atta girl.” He smiled back, because even if Asa’s insides were in a constant state of turmoil, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to give those he loved a sense of peace.
After all, Asa had an abundance of quiet in his head, and he didn’t mind sharing it with those who disliked the noise.
10.
Muse To Her Artist
Carmen sat down next to Lottie, an old acquaintance, during lunch that day. The chatter in the canteen was loud, but for once she didn’t mind. Instead, she found herself revelling in the noise—it helped curb the intensity of the loudness inside her. It was only when her surroundings were silent that it became too profound; unbearable. And without her art journal, without her means to scream, this was the only way. Making sure she was surrounded by noise.
“So I’m guessing that’s the popular table?” Willa asked, her eyes focused on a table somewhere past Carmen’s shoulders.
“Totally,” Lottie nodded her head vigorously. “Hunter’s one of the linebackers on the football team and—”
“Hunter’s the brunet with the blue eyes, right?” Willa asked, taking a bite of what looked like a Nutella sandwich.
“Yup,” another girl, with a single purple streak in her brown hair (who Carmen knew was called Joyce and had always wanted to interact more with), chimed in. “He’s so drool-worthy.” She sighed dreamily.
“He’s a bully,” Carmen spoke, her eyes fixed on Joyce, and ignoring the bitter taste those unplanned words left in her mouth.
Joyce blushed, feeling embarrassed, and shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Well, yeah, I know that,” she mumbled. “I was just saying…”
“Aren’t they all bullies though?” Willa snorted, eyeing the large group of boys at the table with her nose wrinkled in mild disgust. “With inflated egos just because they have all the girls in this school falling at their feet?”
“You have a very disturbing perspective of the female population.” Carmen frowned, narrowing her eyes at Willa. “How can you think so low of your own gender? It’s been just a few days since you’ve joined, how would you know all the girls at this school have no shred of dignity?”
Willa laughed as if she couldn’t believe Carmen was asking her that.
“Really.” She scoffed. “Look at those guys! Hunter and Asa, and all the other athletes and popular ones.” Willa gestured at them. “They’ve got the looks and the influence on the students. You can just tell by the way they walk that they’re players, thinking they’re too good to settle down on just one girl.”
Carmen wanted to say something. Something vehement. Something sharp enough to pierce through the new girl’s mind and remain there. Instead, she chose to take a few seconds to breathe. To remind herself that the world was a better place when she gave away a part of her heart rather than a piece of her mind.
“Warren’s the quarterback and is actually having a steady relationship,” Carmen said calmly, keeping her tone light and pleasant. “And Grady, captain of the basketball team, has been eyeing this girl from my Art class for a while now; I’m positive he genuinely likes her.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese
