Chapter 8: Monthversary

"What do you think? Red or nude?"

Sloan turned to me, holding up an opened lipstick on each hand. One is a bright red - something I've seen her wear almost all the time - and the other is a dark nude, a colour that I would usually go for if I ever decide to abandon my obsession with flavoured lip balms. Her teeth still shone a shocking white as she smiled widely at me, waiting for my answer.

I stood leaning against the doorframe of the wardrobe, where I was practically forced to stand by my father since I refused to be in the same room with her let alone in close proximity. Apparently, my father was bringing her to yet another date for their 'monthversary' but what I didn't expect was for Sloan to take hours deciding on what to wear just to simply end up choosing a plain and skin-tight black dress that was way too short to avoid any slip-up with a stride that was slightly longer than usual.

I hated that she had something to threaten me with and there was nothing I could do without things taking a turn for the worse, especially for Blake. Now, I have to bare with her annoying presence while she sways around the room, completing her stripper-like outfit. On top of that, I'm starting to get the feeling that she did not actually want my help. Instead, she wanted to talk about the unnecessary details of the wedding that I wasn't invited to simply to get a reaction out of me so she could tell on me to my father.

I returned her wide smile, ready to spit out the words in the most sarcastic tone I could muster, "I think you'd look gorgeous in-"

"Oh, you're right. Red is always the colour to go. Thanks, babes," she cut me off and turned back to the mirror to apply the bright red lipstick.

I grit my teeth and tried to hide my annoyance with a small laugh. Not being able to watch the faces she make when she applies makeup, I looked away, glancing around the over-sized wardrobe that was almost half-empty before but was now filled with her things. My eyes landed on the white handbag on the island in the middle of the wardrobe. It looked strangely familiar. I cocked my head to the side slightly and walked towards the bag. Before I could lay my hand on the bag, Sloan had slapped my hand away. I looked at her with a mixture of a shock and a frown.

"Don't touch my things," her glare was fixed on mine as she placed her hand protectively over the handbag. Then, as if it was all an imagination, her facial expression changed, replaced with the sickening smile she always wore, "Anyways," she took the handbag and slipped it over her arm, "I better get going, then. Don't want to keep my husband waiting," she emphasised the word 'husband' and I knew all too well that she did that to antagonise me. The smile of her face only got wider as she turned away from me and walked out of the wardrobe.

I was standing by the island, still shocked from her sudden reaction for merely trying to touch the handbag. Something was odd. I can feel it and I wasn't going to just let it go. But Sloan isn't the only thing that's on my mind - although she does occupy a large majority of it and not in a good way.

The reason I decided to help Sloan was partly because I was avoiding Blake. I know that I couldn't do that forever since he was my personal bodyguard after all and I'm going to see him in school anyway but I wasn't ready to face him right now. Especially the way I felt, standing so close to him. I'm afraid that if I saw him again I wouldn't be able to control myself and I cannot let that happen. For his sake.

I sat on the couch of the living room, my legs stretched out on the three-person couch. Harry sat on another couch next to me with the remote in his hand. It was the day after my father and Sloan's monthversary date. I managed to convince my father to let me skip school today, using the excuse that my elbow was still hurting, which was a complete lie. It was mainly to give Blake some time to rest so his wounds would heal without being forced to hide the pain as he followed me to school. Initially, I had planned to stay in my room all day so I could avoid facing Blake but Harry had made me come out of my room, claiming that I needed to have some form of social interaction.

I watched as Harry lifted the remote towards the television. "No no, keep the channel," I immediately spoke up before he could press the button.

Harry glanced over at me and chuckled, "Do I have to remind you that you're no longer twelve?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the screen, "There is no specific age to watch Tom and Jerry," I answered, laughing lightly as the mouse, Jerry, managed to flatten the grey cat, Tom's face with a baseball bat. Their harmless fights have always amused me. They're sworn enemies and yet sometimes they work together against a third-party.

I heard the familiar sound of the keys jingling and from the corner of my eyes, I could see the figure standing my by couch but I kept my eyes on the screen, pretending that I don't notice him standing there.

"Ash, I'm going out to pick up something. You want to come?" Blake asked. His voice was casual as if had happened between us. Maybe it didn't bother him as much as it did me.

"No," I replied without looking at him.

"It won't take long. I'll get you-" he started.

"I'm tired, no," I cut him off and moved my legs to curl them up against my chest. At this point, my eyes were watching the mouse and the cat fight but my mind was screaming at me to go with Blake. I wanted so badly to go with him. I really enjoy the late night rides with Blake where we would forget about the gang and simply just spend time together but I knew these feelings wouldn't let me act the same around him anymore.

Without another word, Blake walked away and almost slammed the front door shut behind him. It was quiet apart from the sound of the television. I could feel Harry looking at me, waiting for me to say something.

"Ashley," Harry said when he realised that I wasn't saying anything.

I hummed in response as I rest my feet on the table in front of me.

"What's going on?" Harry pressed.

When I didn't answer, Harry turned off the television. I groaned and looked at him. Usually I would be able to get my way with Blake but not when it comes to Harry. He acts just like an older brother and sometimes I appreciate it but not this time.

"What?" I made sure to keep my tone even as I answered.

"You know what I'm talking about. Did something happen?" Harry asked again.

I immediately shook my head, "No, nothing happened. Why would you think something happened." This was when I mentally slapped myself. As if I can't be any more obvious.

Harry raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm listening."

I squinted my eyes and maintained a glare at him, hoping it would make him back down. Obviously that wasn't working.

I sighed and stood up from the couch, "I'm going to bed." I only managed to take a step away from the couch before Harry spoke up again.

"Oh, wow, I was right."

I looked over my shoulder at him, "What do you mean?"

A playful smile danced on his lips as he uncrossed him arms to brush a hand through his hair, "You know, I thought you both had one of your usual childish fights but seeing the way you avoided the conversation..." he trailed off.

I turned completely to face him, my brows furrowed, "I wasn't-"

"You fancy him, don't you?"

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- S.R. Fizz