Carmen watched his posture soften the very slightest bit, and she wondered if some part of him hated doing this. If there was guilt eating him up on the inside—even a smudge of it.
But his eyes remained resolute; determined. He had set his course and didn’t seem to have any intention of budging.
She could sympathise with the probability that his reasoning stemmed from a troubled place inside his heart—but that, in no way, meant she had to be okay with this. With any of this.
Carmen didn’t have to pay for Asa’s battles. But she also wondered if perhaps this was the universe punishing her. If it was life’s natural course of payback. Karma. Or whatever it was that they call it these days.
It was taking away what she held most dear, and dropping it into the mercy of a stranger.
Just like how she herself had ripped away what her family once held most dear.
08.
The War Inside His Head
Asa deserved the coldness that was radiating off Carmen in waves. He knew that. She shouldn’t have to be a casualty in the war that was raging inside his head. And he was just an impulsive heartbeat away from handing her the journal, apologising profusely and then promising to never show her his face ever again. He couldn’t do it, though. Not when she’d already caved in to his offer. Except it wasn’t an offer, the nobler part of him realised, it was an unfair bargain. A blackmail.
He averted his eyes, feeling the shame crawl up the back of his neck.
But it’s just a godforsaken art book, the rasher part of him argued, not her heart on a silver platter.
“Well?”
Asa’s inner ramblings came to an abrupt stop when she spoke, snapping him out of his stupor and bringing him back to earth.
“What?” He blinked, staring at her. This was the second time she’d caught him off guard, and he was starting to feel like an idiot. She didn’t shoot him a condescending glance, though, or make any gesture that implied she thought he was an idiot, too.
“I literally just met Willa,” she went on. “Like, yesterday, when she joined. But, of course, you already know this. So tell me how I’m supposed to help you. It’s not like she and I have become best friends or something.”
“No?” Asa’s lips twitched, as he peered at her. “Doesn’t the loner girl and the new girl just automatically hit it off and become best pals?”
“You’re implying that I’m a loner,” Carmen stated rather than asked, her brows furrowing.
Now Asa felt truly uneasy. “Well, aren’t you?” he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
“No.”
He shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bang his head against the concrete.
“Right.” He nodded, swallowing the embarrassment. “Right, sorry. I just…I thought—”
“Exactly. You thought,” she pointed out. “Not knew.”
“Sorry,” he squeaked out again.
Carmen just sighed, and her eyes turned weary. “You let me know when you’ve come up with a plan on how I’m supposed to help you.” She stood there, just staring at him a little while longer before her feet began moving soundlessly, walking away.
She was just walking away? No fight? No lecture on how he was holding her property against her own head? Asa didn’t know what he’d expected—not that he had any time for expectations since he’d just jumped at the notion of getting Carmen to help him—but it certainly wasn’t this.
He wondered just then, how much exactly the art book or journal or whatever mattered to her, if she was just willing to succumb to his whims this way.
09.
Take The Ugliness Away
Asa forgot whose house it was. Forgot the name of the boy hosting the party. All he knew were the red, blue, and green disco lights, the loud beat of the music and Marlene’s hands, lips and legs on him.
Marlene wasn’t someone he’d classify as a friend, despite being someone Asa had known ever since sophomore year. Over the course of their acquaintanceship though, they’d blurred certain lines, both of them enjoying each other’s presence in a way that they’ve become so comfortable with each other that they didn’t need a label. And tonight was another one of those times, with Marlene’s hands tangled in Asa’s hair, and her lips leaving a trail of hungry kisses down his throat.
It felt good. This felt good. Asa felt good.
Marlene let out a moan, her hands wrapped around his biceps, legs straddling his lap, as he sat with his back pressed against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him.
Her fingers trailed down his arms, her body writhing against his with want and pleasure. Asa could feel the way her breath was rushed and heavy, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. As if she thought he was irresistible. As if she truly believed he was beautiful.
Because Marlene liked his skin, and his eyes, and his hair, and that slight Spanish accent in his voice he couldn’t get rid of despite his attempts. Everything that was a testament of where Asa came from, Marlene liked. So had that girl from last week, and all the girls before that. They liked the way he looked, the way he spoke. Just as he was.
They didn’t tell him he didn’t belong.
With them, his skin felt beautiful and Asa had a tendency to drown himself in whatever took the ugliness away.
•••
“Ace.”
Asa stopped stuffing books into his locker and looked up at Isla, in all her cherry-stained lips and platinum crowning glory.
“Asa,” he corrected with a sigh although he knew it was only futile. Isla was never going to grow out of calling him Ace.
“So, Ace, I was thinking—”
“Whoa.” Asa held up a finger. “You sure that isn’t hazardous to your
