“Listen, Asa, I—”
“Your dad. Is he coming to pick you up?” Asa suddenly asked with a clipped tone, startling Carmen and making her blink repeatedly at him before responding.
“W-what? My…Uh, no. No, he isn’t. I to—”
“Stay here,” Asa ordered, still refusing to look her in the eyes. “I’ll bring the truck around.”
“I thought you hated me.” Carmen raised her brows, looking at him through the corner of her eyes.
Asa clenched his jaw, his shoulders stiffening. “I gave you the first ride back home long before we were even friends,” he told her. “It had been a simple, civil gesture back then just like it is right now. You don’t have to read anything into it because it means nothing.”
And then he was walking into the rain, towards the parking lot, heading in the direction of wherever his truck was.
Carmen released the breath she’d been holding in, feeling her shoulders drop slightly at the realisation that Wyatt hadn’t been kidding when he said Asa was going to be difficult to crack. Of course, Carmen had known it too. Asa wasn’t one to forgive easily. But truth be told, she never expected him to have such a strong resolve.
The sound of an approaching vehicle caught Carmen’s attention, and her eyes landed on the familiar red truck that set off the tugging sensation in her chest again.
Sighing softly, she left the shelter that the roof of the building provided and went into the light downpour, running down the steps as she felt the wind whip her hair back and the raindrops kiss her skin, causing an exhilarating sensation to course through her veins.
Asa leaned over the seats and opened the passenger door for Carmen, allowing her to get in right away instead of getting any wetter in the rain.
“I love the rain,” she said in a rushed exhale, the lingering exhilaration doing the talking for her.
“I know,” Asa muttered, driving them out of the school’s parking lot.
“You do?” Carmen shot him a surprised look, knowing she hadn’t ever told him that.
“Lucky guess.” His tone remained clipped and detached.
Carmen looked away, not liking the disappointment or the sinking feeling in her stomach at being given the cold shoulder by Asa himself of all people.
The ride was uncomfortably silent, the air so thick with tension and an undercurrent of something much stronger, yet also somehow so fragile that Carmen could have cut through it with her fingernail in order for it to explode.
“You, uh.” Carmen broke the silence, then stopped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “You didn’t ask me why I’m getting a ride from you today instead of my dad.”
“I would have, but that would imply I actually cared,” Asa responded easily enough. “And I don’t.”
The remark stung, but Carmen let it roll off her knowing that this was just Asa’s hurt doing the talking for him. Broken hearts did and said whatever it needed to for self-preservation. She would know. She’d know better than most people.
“But you knew Dad was picking me up these days?” Carmen asked, something like awe lingering in her tone.
Asa’s brows furrowed in confusion, but other than that, he didn’t give much away. “Yes.”
There was a fluttery feeling in Carmen’s chest near her left breastbone, upon hearing that Asa had actually cared enough to make sure she had a ride back home.
“Well, if you’re not going to ask, I’m still going to tell you.” Carmen shrugged, deciding she might as well spit it out now. “I asked him not to come.”
Asa’s eyes were still fixed on the road, not giving Carmen any signs of acknowledging what she’d said.
“Because I was hoping that we’d be able to do this,” Carmen went on, gesturing to the truck and the space between them.
Asa didn’t respond.
Carmen sighed heavily and ran a hand down her face in mild frustration. “Because I miss you, Asa.” Putting into words what she was feeling was refreshing in a way she’d never known—terrifying in the moments before she spoke them and soul-satisfying once she’d got them out. “I miss you, okay?”
“Okay.”
Her breath hitched at the outright dismissal of her words, of her attempt—regardless of how tiny it was—to voice out what she was feeling.
“I’m trying to tell you how I feel, Asa,” Carmen said, feeling frustration simmer in the pit of her stomach.
“And I recall telling you that your words mean nothing to me. Because when it comes to you, Carmen, words are just that: words.”
Carmen’s chest clenched at the reminder of what was probably one of the worst days of her life. The image of Asa’s face flashed in her mind, the look of utter disbelief, that heartbreak in his eyes where warmth was supposed to be. She had put him through that.
It had been words with which she’d let him believe she was ready for a relationship back then, and it had been words with which she’d ripped away that belief from right under his feet.
Sadly, it was only words that she had right now too. Except, this time, she hoped Asa would be able to see that it came from a place of vulnerability and raw honesty.
“Hunter told me what you did for him last week,” Carmen said after a few minutes of heavy silence.
“Yeah, well.” Asa shrugged, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. “Didn’t do it for you.”
“I know,” Carmen told him softly. “You did it for him.”
And that makes my heart fall a little bit more.
But Carmen decided now wasn’t the best time to say anything she hadn’t planned on telling him.
“Is that why you’re here?” he asked, shaking his head to himself
