2. Working On It

"Asher."

Ash looked up sharply, his eyes going wide. He hadn't heard his dad come in.

"D-dad," he stammered. "I didn't--"

"Save it," his father said, his eyes narrowing as he took in the mess of dirt and glass on the floor. "What happened."

Ash braced himself. "I--I dropped the plant. I was watering it, and it slipped, and I'm sor--"

The blow came without warning, right to Ash's stomach. He doubled over, coughing, and sank to his knees.

"Don't do it again and clean it up," his father said mildly, kicking Ash hard in the side before walking away. Ash gasped for air, watching his father's steel-toed boots tromp into the other room.

Ash coughed one more time, fighting to get his breath back, and forced his breathing to return to normal, wincing when his ribs protested. His dad hadn't been gentle.

He never was.

Ash grabbed the broom that was leaning against the wall and used it to pull himself to his feet, wincing. Their floor was already dirty, almost to the point it looked like the floor of a barn, but that didn't stop Ash's dad from trying to make it look like someone actually lived there.

Er, stop him from forcing Ash to do everything to make it look like someone actually lived there.

Ash pushed the broom around the room, cleaning as best he could with his side throbbing and his stomach aching. He hadn't had a decent meal in ages.

"Asher!"

"Working on it!" Ash called back, sweeping more dirt into the steadily growing pile. "Almost done..."

"You get on the school registration yet?"

Ash's eyes widened and he froze. "Uh. Yeah!" No. Dammit...he'd forgotten, and school started in less than a week! He had to get on that soon.

"Good," his father grunted, coming back in the room and assessing the amount of work his son had done. He curled his lip and reached over, knocking a plate to the floor and shattering the fragile china.

His mother's china.

Ash swallowed hard. His dad knew exactly what he was doing.

"You missed some," he sneered, indicating the glass shards. "Guess that's another night going to bed without eating." He tsked. "You should work harder."

Tears threatened to spill over Ash's cheeks. "Sorry, Dad," he said, lowering his head. His father grunted and passed Ash on is way out of the room, elbowing him and sending him slamming into the wall so hard he saw black spots. Ash gasped.

"So uncoordinated," his dad sighed, frowning. "Work on that, too."

"Yes, sir."

His father left, and Ash slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. His breath rasped in his ears, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He peeked through his fingers at the broken plate that used to be his mothers.

"Remember, Ashy, these plates hold memories..."

His mother's voice threatened to overwhelm him and he stifled a sob, trying so hard not to cry it hurt his chest. No crying, he told himself fiercely. Dad says crying is weak, and he won't have a weak son...

He'd suffered the consequences of being a weak son, and he didn't want to again.

~ ~ ~

"Name, please."

"Asher Erickson," Ash mumbled, ducking his head. The woman behind the desk glanced up at him, then wrote down his name. Her handwriting was pretty, and Ash could easily read the neat characters of his name upside-down.

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

She wrote that down, too.

"Any allergies, medications, anything I should know about?"

Ash shook his head. "Not that I know of."

"Great." The woman jerked her chin at a chair in the corner of the office next to a grumpy-looking boy in a dark black hoodie, his face shrouded in the shadow of his hood, and an uncomfortable-looking woman with dark hair who was obviously his mom. "Go sit over there. The tour is in a few minutes, we just need to see who else shows up."

"Thank you," Ash said quietly, but the woman wasn't listening anymore. Ash ducked his head and walked over to the only empty seat--the one right next to the grumpy boy.

Just as he was about to sit down, a deep voice said, "That seat's taken."

Ash froze, biting his lip, and backed away. "Oh--s-sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"It's not," the woman said, shooting the boy a glare. "Come on, William. Be nice."

Ash bit his lip harder. "I--I can find somewhere else to sit, it's okay..."

"No," the woman said, shooting him a bright smile. "Go ahead and sit down. Will's going to be nice, won't you?"

The boy, William, gave an exaggerated sigh and settled into sullen silence.

Ash slowly sat down, shoving his hands into his pockets and lowering his head, trying not to make eye contact.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman jerk the boy's hood down and pull and earbud out of his ear. He had dark hair, Ash saw now, like the woman. The woman was his mother, then.

William's mother leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, and William glared at her and shook his head. "No way."

"William," the woman warned.

"No."

"It's a fresh start at a new school. You don't want to be totally alone, do you?"

"I'd like that a lot, actually."

The woman pinched his arm, glaring at him. "Do it."

"Fine," William snapped, then turned the heat of his glare to Ash.

Ash squeaked, but the boy only held out a hand. His skin was tan to the point of a crisp golden-brown, his stormy gray eyes reminding Ash of the sky outside. Hesitantly, Ash took the boy's hand, surprised at how rough and callused it was.

"I'm Will," the boy said, his voice expressionless.

"Asher," Ash said cautiously. "Are you...new?"

"No," Will said sarcastically. "I've lived here my entire life."

"William," the woman chastised.

Will sighed and pointed over his shoulder. "That's my mom, Jessica."

Jessica popped her head around Will's shoulder adn smiled brightly. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand. Ash shook it hesitantly.  "Are you in your freshman year?"

Ash hunched his shoulders and lowered his eyes, extracting his grip from hers and replacing them in his pockets. "No...I'm a senior."

Will laughed out loud, but Jessica looked stricken. "Oh," she said. "Well..."

"I get it, I'm small," Ash said, looking up and grinning. "It's okay. I get that a lot. I can get away with the cheaper tickets at the movie theaters because people always mistake me for someone younger than I am." Or, I would if I ever went to the movie theater.

Will snorted. "That's stupid."

"William," Jessica snapped, but Ash smiled.

"It's okay, Mrs...."

"Kade," Jessica said, smiling. "And no, it's not okay. Will has always been an...introvert, to say the least."

"Will has also always been here this whole time," Will said mildly, "and can hear what you're saying."

"Does Will agree with that statement?" Ash asked, smiling at him.

Will blinked, then frowned. "Will does."

Mrs. Kade laughed.

"Boys," the woman behind the desk said, standing up. "It doesn't look like anyone else will be joining us. If you'll follow me, please."

Ash stood immediately, but Will rolled his eyes and stayed where he was, flipping his hood over his head again and crossing his arms. Mrs. Kade sighed and murmured something to him, and he crossed his arms, then stood.

And the tour began.

- - - - - -

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Question for you: Favorite book?

Answer: All of them, honestly.