Emilia's POV
Waking up to the unrelenting misery of a headache is not my ideal way to start my morning. Memories of last night flashed through my mind, and I'm dreading to see Ashton today, which by thinking about it, only makes my headache worse. The sound of my alarm doesn't help the constant pounding in my head either. I reach my hand out to shut the source of added agony off. It's only eight in the morning and my communications class doesn't start until ten, so I have plenty of time to try and rid myself of this terrible hangover.
After taking an appropriately long shower to erase the smell of alcohol my body reeked of, I drag my feet along the hideous gray carpet and into the kitchen. Normally, I find Julia sitting at the dining table drinking her coffee, but she's nowhere to be seen. I want to talk to her about last night, but I guess it will have to wait until later.
On the kitchen counter is a bottle of water and ibuprofen. I can't help but smile at the thoughtfulness of my best friend. She is always one step ahead of me, and I love her for that. It reminds me of my new friends and how kindhearted they've been to me. I grab the two bottles and shove them into my backpack. Slipping on my shoes and grabbing a light hoodie, I head out, thinking that the walk to school may help with my hangover.
I was wrong.
As much as I want to walk back home and deny all human contact and social interaction, I don't want to leave Ashton alone in class today. He's already sitting in his seat when I walk into the classroom. Slowly, I make my way up to sit next to him and rest my head against the cold wood of the desk.
"Party too hard last night?" Ashton teases.
I just nod and groan. "I've never had a hangover before, and I never want one again. Remind me to never drink that much again." I close my eyes to block out the unnaturally bright fluorescent lighting.
"At least you had fun." He chuckles as I lift my head up from the desk and lean back against the uncomfortable chair.
"Fun has proven to have its consequences."
My neck hurts and feels like it's struggling to hold the weight of my heavy head. I reach into my backpack and grab the bottle of ibuprofen and take the recommended dosage with the cold bottle of water. After swallowing the pills, I turn to Ashton and his eyes are already locked on my face; a mixture of curiosity and pity painted across his face.
"What's wrong?" I ask, already knowing the answer to my question.
I know he's going to ask about what I said last night. The only thing worse than this horrid headache is the fact that I told Ashton about my ex. It was going to come out sooner or later, but never did I think that it would be under those circumstances. To my despair, I wasn't drunk enough to forget my little confession as well as him bringing me to my room. I didn't really give any details of my past relationship, but I did tell him the gist of it, which to me is enough. For now, at least. I want him to know more, but even with the growing trust I have for him, I don't know if I can handle that deep of a conversation without completely breaking down.
"Last night," he starts, "do you remember what you told me?"
I let out a long sigh. "Yes," I say, not even second guessing my answer.
His mouth parts slightly like he was going to say something but quickly shut it, searching for the right words to say. "I'm not going to ask you to tell me everything about it right now, but whenever you're ready, I'll be here to listen." His soft and sincere voice renders me speechless.
If anything, I'm thankful he's not pushing me to reveal the details of my past. "Thank you," I manage to whisper. Ashton's cheeks dimple and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he nods reassuringly.
The voices of my fellow classmates talking ceased to exist as I stare at the boy next to me. How does he do it? How does this guy who I've only known for a month always know what to say? Why was it so easy for him to break down the walls that I worked hard to build? How is he always able to make me smile and laugh when before, I just wanted the world to leave me alone?
Professor Ross walks into the classroom and immediately begins his lecture, breaking me out of my confused thoughts. I drop my gaze from the curly-headed boy and focus my attention on the older man standing behind the podium, who was explaining interpersonal communication. The pain in my head dulls considerably, but it still feels like someone is squeezing my head, which makes it difficult to focus. My head drops gently down onto the desk with my arms acting as a cushion beneath it. I know there is no way I can pay attention today, so I decide that sleep would be the best option.
The sound of Professor Ross' strident voice begins to fade as I close my eyes. As I began to drift off, a large hand rubs small circles on my back as if to help me fall asleep faster. The small strokes against my back erupts a fluttering feeling in my stomach. The stereotypical 'friends don't make you feel this way' feeling. I like it, but I don't want to like it. I push the thought aside as I focus on the soothing motion of his hand until slipping into darkness.
____
The gentle shaking of my shoulders wakes me from my short slumber. Ashton is still next to me, twirling a pen around in his hand.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he says, giggling. "Maybe good afternoon would be more appropriate seeing that it's almost noon, now. How are you feeling?"
The pain from my headache has completely diminished and the only thing that's bothering me is the grumbling of my stomach. "Much better," I say. "However, I think my stomach might eat itself if I don't get some food soon."
He laughs, revealing the craters in his cheeks. "Come on, let's go feed that stomach of yours."
I follow behind him as we left the room. We decide on going to the cafeteria where we found the rest of the boys sitting together. I sit next to Calum and begin devouring the hamburger that Ashton insisted on buying me since he blamed himself for letting me drink too much which resulted in my hangover.
"Sorry for not showing up last night, Emilia," Michael says. "I had to finish that essay for history. I'd like to say I think I did an okay job on it, but once I was halfway done with the paper, I ended up just bullshitting the rest before submitting it online."
I laugh, but my mouth was full so it sounded like a muffled choking noise.
"I would tell you to slow down, but you've already cleaned your plate," Calum says, laughing. He hands me a napkin to wipe the remnants of food left on my face.
"If you're this unladylike now, I can't wait to see how you act at the party," Luke snickers.
My eyebrows furrow. "What party?"
All eyes target Ashton's.
"You didn't tell her yet?" Luke whispers loudly. If they're trying to keep me out of the conversation, they're not doing a good job.
"I haven't had the chance to!" Ashton says, keeping his voice low like Luke.
"What is going on?" I ask, breaking up their whisper-fest.
Ashton sighs. "Last Friday, do you remember when I sent you a text saying that my dad kept looking at me during class?" I nod. "Well he held me after class to talk to me. He gave me this." He pulls out a folded piece of cardstock from his backpack and hands it to me. "It's an invitation for a formal party that the faculty in the business department hosts for current students and alumni. Business officials show up there too, and the students who attend are encouraged to talk with them to potentially receive an offer for an internship," he explains. "I went last semester and brought these guys along, and I was wondering if you would want to come with us this time?"
"I thought you and your dad didn't talk?" I say.
"We don't," he says. "At least, not lengthy conversations. We get a word or two out when we talk, but that's about it. He basically just said "Here" and handed me the invitation."
I glance down at the creased paper. "Will it be okay if I go? I don't want to be an intrusion or anything."
"When I asked if I could bring guests he just shrugged, so I'm assuming that's a yes. He did the same thing last semester and didn't care. So, will you come?" He bites his lip and stares expectantly for my answer.
I try not to think too hard about it because if I do, I'll end up saying no. I unfold the crinkled paper and read over the invitation. "It says that the required dress attire is formal," I say. "Does that mean I have to wear a dress or something?"
"Is that your way of saying yes?" he asks, a grin slowly rising on his face.
"Do I have to wear a dress?" I repeat, avoiding his question.
He chuckles. "Yes, it means you will have to wear a dress."
"Julia will have to help with that because I hate dress shopping."
"So that's a yes?"
"It seems that you worked out that 'not asking' problem of yours," I joke. "Yes."
The way his eyes spark from genuine happiness make my cheeks heat up. I try to compose myself, but his presence alone screws that up. I've never attended a formal event like this. Other than my senior prom that I spent following Julia like a shadow, I haven't worn a formal dress. It could be fun though. Although, I'm pretty sure anything would be fun as long as Ashton is there. That thought alone is enough to make me smile.