Chapter XII: Britt's Endeavor

I froze. I waited. I didn't want to ruin what little ground I was making.

I still half expected him to not say anything else, but he defied expectations once again. And this time, he sounded somewhat less tense. "My real mom isn't here anymore. She left us five years ago." When I kept my mouth shut, he went on to say angrily, "For Wade. For drugs."

It was useless to hide my shock. I could hardly believe it. For one, Ash had just told me something personal. But it was the words themselves that had me shaking. "So that's what Rowlett meant," I breathed without thinking. When I realized I had said it out loud, I brought a hand to my mouth in regret, but Ashton's anger wasn't directed at me when he next spoke.

"Yeah. That sick—"

Unable to stop myself, I cautiously took a step closer to the volatile boy. "Do you know where she is now?"

Running a shaking hand through his hair, he closed his eyes and said, "She's gone, Maine. She's gone forever."

My blood turned cold. He'd been serious—somehow I just hadn't taken his words literally over the phone. Praying for the right words and coming up blank, I took a nervous breath. "Is she the woman in that picture?"

His eyes latched onto mine in surprise, and I could tell he didn't know what I was talking about. Biting my lip, I elaborated, "That photo you had when I found you last week."

Narrowing his eyes, he questioned in idle accusation, "You saw that?"

"Yeah," I barely whispered, unsure what to say or do. "I just—I was curious." When he still stared at me, I added quietly, "I'm sorry."

Letting out a sigh, Ash said, "It doesn't matter anymore. You already know."

"Sorry," I said again, not even sure why I was saying it. There was really nothing to say that would make up for what he had just told me.

Ashton's gaze flitted across my face, as if debating where to land. Some sick part of me quivered when it landed on my lips. But that only lasted a second, and then he looked into my eyes again and murmured, "I said it doesn't matter anymore."

My heart clenched at his words, but I couldn't bring myself to counter them. Instead, I said stupidly, "Do you miss her?"

His gaze not faltering for a second, Ash answered curtly, "No."

I knew he was lying—I could see it in his eyes. Still, I went along with him and dropped it. "So, Pam is…"

Judging by the way his stance relaxed, I guessed that he was grateful for the slight shift of conversation. "She was my dad's secretary. After my mom left, Pam started showing up. She always supported my dad—and me, I guess. They've been married three years."

I nodded, understanding how Pam was. She was so friendly, so easy to talk to. If anyone could heal Mr. Savvonski's heart after such a horrible blow, she would be the one.

As a silence hemmed in around us then, I felt my anxiety return. Now that Ash had told me what he had, I was unsure what to do next. It felt wrong to ask more, since he'd already told me more than I ought to know, but I didn't know what else to do. My stupid mouth did the job for me.

"I know it's none of my business," I blurted suddenly to break the silence, "but who was that on the phone?"

As soon as I saw Ash's face, I regretted it. Feeling horrible, I hurriedly said, "You don't have to answer that. Sorry I pried."

One second he was glaring. But now he looked like he wanted to laugh, even though none of this was funny at all. "That was Wade. That was the son of a b—sorry, the guy who introduced my mom to drugs. She moved in with him when she left us."

I tried not to wince. "Why would he contact you?���

"Why do you think?" Ash scoffed. "Money. It's always about money." After a moment's hesitation, he went on to explain, "I went to stay with my mom the summer before high school. She was living with Wade then. He got me a job with Rowlett—he said he never made such good money as I did that summer. What a—"

I brought a hand to my head, distressed at the way things were shaping out. Ashton's life had always looked nigh perfect to me—perfect parents, perfect house, perfect friends, imperfect Ash. Somehow I'd never considered that he actually had a reason to be upset. My life looked like rainbows and unicorns compared to his now.

"Maine," Ashton's voice broke through my thoughts.

My gaze snapped back to his. "Yeah?"

"I'm not telling you all this so you'll feel sorry for me, you know."

I blinked in surprise. "I never thought you were."

"Good."

"I do hate it though," I admitted sheepishly.

"Good," he said again, almost smiling. "I hate it too."

We stood there in silence for a long moment, neither of us willing to move or speak. But when I looked him in the eye and saw all that fresh pain behind his eyes, I could hardly help myself. Impulsively, I stepped closer—too much closer—and wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face against his chest.

My mind exploded with screeching alarms, but it was too late. There was no going back now.

Squeezing my eyes shut in terror, I prayed that he would relax, for he had gone as rigid as a rock the moment I'd touched him. What if I'd messed up? How would I ever live it down?

Before he could shove me off, I spoke up. "I'm sorry, Ash," I muttered in a voice so low I scarcely recognized it. "They're all a bunch of punks."

He started to say something, but the telephone interrupted us. We jolted apart, as if suddenly aware of our proximity, and Ash, though still staring at me, reached for the phone hastily.

Swallowing, I tried to not let my embarrassment show as Ash lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, his eyes stuck on some part of my face.

This time, he didn't start yelling, much to my relief. Instead, he even mustered a faint smile as he greeted, "Hey, Dad."

Letting out a relieved breath, I recognized my exit and turned toward the laundry room. It was probably just my nerves, but I swore I could feel his eyes on my back the whole time I was leaving.

Once in the safety of the laundry room, I finally broke. My body, still tense from Ashton's revelation, let go at last, and I felt myself crumple to the floor. My head falling in my hands, I went over everything that had just been said in the other room.

Pam wasn't Ashton's mom. His real mom had died—probably from an overdose. And Ash was still being haunted by ghosts from his mom's past. The shock was still so fresh I could hardly believe it, but the pieces were starting to fall into place.

I could faintly recall the first time I'd actually noticed Ashton, in sixth grade. He had been a completely different person then—not that I knew him well at the time, but I didn't have to. He had been a good kid, well-liked and unproblematic.

I specifically remembered a presentation he'd given in our sixth grade English class—something about Mark Twain's works. I had always thought he was a well put together boy, but he'd really outdone himself on that presentation. I'd been terribly jealous because he won first place on the project.

It all seemed so stupid now.

Lifting my head from my hands, I stared at the wall opposite where I was sitting and shook my head in disbelief. As my mind returned to those near-forgotten memories from school, I began to shape it all out.

Sixth grade—normal, studious Ashton. Seventh grade—normal, slightly more popular Ashton. Eighth grade—popular, somewhat rebellious Ashton. Ninth grade—volatile Ashton. Tenth grade—entirely volatile, infamous Ashton. Eleventh grade—fully established delinquent Ashton.

Twelfth grade had just begun, which meant that his mom must have left when he was in seventh grade. That would explain the increase in his rebellious behavior in eighth grade. Most prominent in my memory was when we had returned to school at the beginning of ninth grade. Since seventh grade, Ash had slowly been building a reputation, but in ninth grade, he had been out of control. All kinds of crazy rumors had started that year, only to continue throughout the following years. He'd made quite the name for himself ever since the start of high school.

Ninth grade must have also been when his father had married Pam. Maybe he hadn't liked that at the time. And maybe his mom had passed away that year. Or the next.

I closed my eyes again, feeling the weight of Ashton's revelation.

Never in my life had I imagined that he would reveal such a thing to me. Never had I imagined it would matter so much to me. Now I just had to figure out what I was supposed to do with what he'd given me.

I couldn't very well go on as if nothing had happened. I also couldn't turn a 180 and suddenly be nice to him.

It was clear that our 'moment' was over, and I had no plans of doing something outrageous like hugging him again. I still wasn't sure what had overcome me to make me do that in the first place.

Shaking my head, I acknowledged that all my thinking was not getting me anywhere. Thus, as I pulled myself from my sitting position, I resolved to just go with the flow.

If Ash still acted like a jerk, I'd fight right back. If he somehow turned all nice, though, I'd put some of my apprehensions aside. I rather doubted he would turn nice. It just wasn���t in his character to stay nice for long.

Monday came like a splash of ice cold water on a sleeping face. It was a cruel day that creeped up unexpectedly and showed no mercy. Everything seemed to fall apart that day.

It started out pleasantly, as most bad days deceptively do. I awoke with a smile on my face, and I walked to the park with a spring in my step. Britt was smiling brightly when she saw me, and we cheerfully began the walk to school together. That, unfortunately, was as far as my merriment held out on that fine, sunny morning.

It all started when Britt presented me with an innocent question. "How well do you know Josh?"

I quirked a brow at her. "A little?"

Biting her lip, my friend waited a moment before saying, "Have you spent any time with him?"

"Some. He and Dave came to Ashton's to hang out on Saturday."

"Really?" Britt asked in an excited tone that I was instantly suspicious of. "Then you must know more about him than you did before," she rushed on. "Do you know what kind of girls he likes?"

I felt an unexpected twinge of concern. I couldn't quite explain why her sudden eagerness to know more about Josh had me worried. Britt had always talked about Josh like a child talks about her celebrity crush, so why was I uneasy about her asking about him now?

Biting back my hesitation, I answered her, "It's not like he told me that. But I'd guess it's anyone that breathes and has legs."

Exasperated, Britt elbowed me in the side. "Come on, Maine! I'm serious here."

I laughed, still trying to ignore that queasy feeling in my gut. What was wrong with me? Maybe I'd just never considered the idea of Britt actually dating Josh. After hearing her gush on and on about him for years, I'd never prepared myself for it to be more than that. Maybe I was afraid of losing my best friend to a boy—an obnoxious one at that. A boy who was best friends with Ashton.

As I was mulling over these things, Britt jumped down another rabbit hole. "What about David? How well do you know him?"

Now what's she going on about? "No more than Josh."

A sly smile rose to Britt's lips then. "But you know him a little better. Right?" Before I had the chance to tell her no, she went on. "Is he as nice as people say he is?"

"Nicer," I admitted.

"Ah-ha!" she cried triumphantly. "David is the key!"

I eyed her distrustfully. "The key?"

"To Josh!" my best friend exclaimed, sounding proud of herself. "If anybody knows Josh, it's Dave. All I have to do is get him to help me. Since he's nice, he'll do it."

Now it all made sense. Britt was meaning to rope Dave into helping her win Josh's affections. She was really going for it, after all these years. What had brought this on? Was it because she'd finally met him the other day? Did she think she'd have an in because of me?

As if I were on the in.

A sick feeling developed in the pit of my stomach. "Yeah, but—Dave's nice, but what makes you think he'll help you get with his best friend? He doesn't even know you."

"What are you saying?" She sounded mildly offended.

Sighing, I tried to explain my reasoning as kindly as possible. "I'm not saying he knows me either—I just think it would be weird for anyone to ask him for his help with something like that."

"But he's the only one that can help me. There's no way I'm asking Ashton, so David is my only shot." With resolution in her voice, Britt declared, "I have to get him to help me. And I will."

"How?" I asked, not without exasperation.

Britt smiled all too sweetly at me then, saying, "That's where you come in, my friend."

"Pardon?"

"Since you know him so well, you can help me ask him."

I let out a groan. "Britt! I told you I don't know him any better than you do! And don't you think he gets asked a million times about his hot, famous, and widely adored best friend?"

Britt frowned momentarily, but then smiled just as brightly as before. "Yes, so it should be no shock for him to be asked again. And besides, who could turn down this face?" She made a funny face, just so I'd be forced to laugh. "Plus, I'm friends with the Maine Eilerts."

I opened my mouth to object, but she cut me off before I could even start. "Don't you want me to be happy? Or do you want Josh for yourself?"

I nearly gagged at the notion. "I'd sooner snog Ash than go on a date with Josh."

"Nice! Then it shouldn't be a problem. You'll be a good friend and help me, right?"

I groaned internally, but complied nonetheless. I never could seem to turn her down. "Fine."

"Sweet," she said with a smile. "First question: is there any way to blackmail David?"

"Blackmail?" I said in alarm. This was going south a lot faster than I had expected. "Blackmail Ash all you want, but why would you blackmail poor innocent Dave?"

"Just answer the question," Britt hissed, and I shot her a glare.

Still upset, I snapped, "No! I doubt he has anything to hide from the world. He actually seems kind of perfect."

"Perfect?" She sounded dubious. "Come on, the only perfect person in this world is Josh. There must be something wrong with David."

Choking on my spit at her comment about Josh, I considered not answering, but knew I'd pay for it if I didn't. Thus, I took a deep breath, and, seeing someone familiar up ahead, said, "Why don't you ask him yourself?���

David was walking just ahead of Britt and me. I noted, with regret, the pleasant spring in his step. His cheer was about to end—and it was undoubtedly going to be exchanged for my embarrassment. Dread settling in my gut, I considered running the other direction, but Britt had slung her arm around my shoulders again. There would be no escaping.

Mixed with my own embarrassment was an even stronger second-hand embarrassment for Britt. I felt sure she was about to humiliate herself by asking Dave for help. There was no way he would actually help her—right? He seemed like such a serious, thoughtful person. How could he possibly assist Britt in such an outrageous endeavor?

Suddenly, Britt was pulling me along with her all too fast, and we were gaining on Dave. No, no, no, I was screaming in my head, but my best friend would not be stopped. Before I knew it, we were right next to David, and Britt was bumping her shoulder with his. I somehow wrenched myself out of Britt's grasp and fell back a step.

Britt ignored my action, fully focused on her subject. "You're David, right?" she asked cheerily as if she didn't already know.

Dave jumped in surprise at her sudden presence. "Sorry, what?"

I watched in pain as my best friend pulled on her best apologetic smile. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did I surprise you?"

From my place behind them, I could see the side of Dave's face when he looked at Britt. At first, he appeared to be confused. Then he seemed to recognize her, and he stopped walking altogether. "Maine's friend?" he said inquisitively.

"Yes," Britt confirmed. "The name's Britt." She held out her hand quickly, but Dave paused a moment before taking it.

I narrowed my eyes at the two. How exactly was this going to work out? My best friend versus Ash's best friend.

"So," Britt began, "you're, like, the best basketball player in school, right?" I felt like punching her, but I stayed where I was, a couple feet away.

Dave coughed in discomfiture, before replying warily. "…No?"

"But I thought you were Central Meadow High's famous basketball star? Wasn't there a whole article about you in the paper last year after championships?" Britt probed.

Well aware that Britt's words were true, I anxiously waited for Dave's response. He hesitated before saying, "Your point being?"

"So I was right!" Britt chirped. "You really are the legendary David Simons."

After nearly experiencing heart failure, I decided that I'd had enough of this conversation. Approaching the two as quickly as possible, I spoke up before Dave could reply to my best friend's ridiculous groveling. "Britt, seriously! We need to go to school."

Dave looked at me with surprise, and, if I discerned correctly, a hint of relief. "Maine."

Smiling briefly at him, I greeted, "Hi, Dave." Half a second later, I added, "Bye, Dave." Taking Britt by the elbow, I tried to pull her away from Dave. She had other plans.

"Wait—wait!" she exclaimed, resisting my tugging. "I need—to talk—to David."

Sighing in exasperation, I tightened my grip on her arm, and, looking at Dave, apologized, "Sorry about my friend. She's thinks you're the closest route to Josh's heart."

Dave stared blankly at me for a few seconds before pulling a small smile on his face. "It's okay. She can talk."

"What?" I was so shocked that I all at once let go of Britt, and she went staggering right into Dave's arms. I could hardly believe it. David Simons was seriously going to hear Britt out. Just like that. He's simply too nice.

It didn't stop there.

It took Britt all of three seconds to collect herself and launch into a speech detailing why she thought she and Josh were destined to be and why Dave was the perfect person to help them get together. I was horrified the whole time, but after Britt had said her magic words and used her best charms, Dave did not even try to shrug her off.

I had never had anything against Dave Simons, but I felt like slapping both him and Britt when he relented easily. "Yeah, I can try my best to help."

Gritting my teeth to refrain from doing something I'd regret, I started walking toward the school again, not waiting to see if they followed. I just couldn't wrap my head around why Dave would help Britt. I couldn't imagine this was the first time someone had talked him up for the same reason Britt was. So why was he giving in to her requests?

Maybe I was missing something. Or maybe he was just plain stupid.