I shut the door of my mom's car and reluctantly walk up the steps to the main building of the school— the moment I've been dreading the entire weekend.

I immediately enter the cafeteria, not bothering to check the outdoor eating area, although it's much too early for the group to be there.

Unfortunately, my first class has three of the people I feel I need to completely avoid for the time being: Madison, Vanessa, and Asher.

"Hey, Estella." Ms Richards gives me a friendly smile as she walks up to the door of her classroom, unlocking it with a jangly set of keys. "You're early today."

I return the gesture with a smile of my own. "Yeah, I actually had a couple of questions about the new project."

"Yeah, of course. Come on in." She nods, holding the door open for me.

I enter the classroom, my mind racing to come up with questions to ask her about the project we were just assigned last week. The truth is, I don't have anything that needs clarifying. But being in the classroom when school begins will save me from having to interact with any of my classmates. It's a guarantee that Asher won't be heading to class early, maybe he won't even show up on time at all.

Throughout the twenty minutes before class, I end up asking Ms. Richards questions that I didn't even know I had. The time proves to be useful in the end.

"Today will just be work time for the project," Ms. Richards announces as the class walks through the door. I'm already in my seat, nervously watching as they make their way in. "I'll be at my desk if there are any questions or if anyone needs help."

Student after student, I wait for the one person I'm not sure I can bring myself to face anytime soon. I had to ask my mom to take me to school today in order to avoid any and all interaction with him.

"Can we sit where we want?" A boy asks as he stops in the center of the class. One earbud hangs on his shirt while the other is in his ear. He looks around, most likely searching for a place to sit rather than his assigned seat.

Please say no.

She looks up to the ceiling, pursing her lips before responding. "Fine. You all can sit where you want as long as everyone keeps their voice levels down." She looks up from her laptop to scan the classroom. "I'll send everyone back to their seats if not."

Without a word, my seat partner immediately stands from his chair and moves across the classroom. I frown, a bit offended as I pull out my laptop to begin chiseling on my slide presentation.

I spot a girl walking inside the classroom. Her name is Irene Carson. I've talked to her a few times and she was always really nice to me; she even invited me to sit with her and her friends at lunch once.

"Irene." I call out, a little too loudly judging by the way a few students in the rows in front of me turn to look at me with confusion. "You can sit here." I smile, lowering my voice to make up for the outburst.

She nods, walking over to me with a laptop between her arms. But before she can sit down, Asher slips into the seat quickly, clad in dark grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

Where did he come from?

"Asher—"

"I'll only be a second." He cuts me off, turning to address Irene, who stands awkwardly by the desk with a bewildered look on her face. "Just need to talk to her real quick."

I clench my jaw, biting my tongue to refrain from voicing the irritation with him before he's even told me anything.

"O-kay." She nods once, taking a seat at an empty table a couple of desks down.

He turns back to me. I suck in a quiet breath as his eyes meet mine. My mind replays Friday night's events. The way his lips crashed against mine. The way he and I were both speechless after. The look of regret on his face.

The way I almost kissed him back.

"What was that for?" I ask him.

"Morning to you, too," he mutters before replying. "And thanks for not answering any of my texts... I was waiting outside your house like an idiot for ten minutes this morning."

I sigh. "I don't have my phone with me."

His eyebrows furrow. "Where's your phone?"

"I forgot it at home," I lie.

I left it on my nightstand on purpose this morning, and for most of the weekend. It was the only way to be disconnected from everything— no group chats, no having to talk to or explain anything to anyone I didn't feel like talking to.

"You forgot it at home," he repeats.

"Mhm."

I open my laptop, pressing my index finger to the corner of the touch bar to unlock it. In my peripheral vision, I can still see those green eyes piercing at my profile.

He leans closer to me, his voice dropping to a volume just above a whisper. "I know you don't want to talk to me right now. And that's fine," he says. "I know I fucked up. Big time. And I'm sorry about what happened. I'm sorry about what I did. I really am, Estella... It won't happen again. Okay?"

I turn to him slowly, taking my eyes off of the screen in front of me. My eyes travel around his sincere features, fixing on the semi-messy waves and curls in splayed in different directions on top of his head.

"Okay." I nod. "You promise?"

He bites his lips and narrows his eyes. "Do I have to promise?"

"Yes, Asher."

He nods slowly. "Fine. I promise."

"And you promise not to make flirty comments?"

Asher makes flirty comments quite often. At first, I thought he was joking around with me just to get a reaction. But after he tried to kiss me, I realized it might've never been a joke to begin with.

He runs a hand over his face, like a stressed business owner who just lost a client. "That's gonna be a hard promise to keep, Estella." He tilts his head. "How about limiting my flirty comments instead?"

I smack his arm, which only causes him to smile.

"Fine," he drawls. "No more flirty comments."

My eyes involuntarily look up at his hair again.

"What are you looking at?"

I shrug. "Your hair's a mess."

He raises his eyebrows. "Wanna fix it for me?"

Is he flirting?

I shake my head in response as I open up the photo booth app on my MacBook. I angle my laptop in his direction, allowing for him to take a good look at his hair.

"Oh." His eyebrows furrow as he looks at himself. He runs his hand through his hair, taming it.

"Estella, Asher." Ms. Richards' voice makes the both of us share a quick glance before facing forward to look at her. She waves us over. "Come here."

We get out of our seats and make our way to her desk. Asher lets out an exasperated sigh once we're right in front of her. I kick his foot, leading him to send a smile my way.

"What's up?" He asks, turning to face Ms. Richards' unamused expression.

"How are your projects coming along?"

She rests her chin in her palm as she look up at us expectantly.

"Great, thanks for asking." Asher smiles.

"You don't even have your computer out."

Before he can make another witty remark geared toward her, I step in. "Sorry, Ms. Richards. We'll get to work now."

She shakes her head, standing to grab a large stack of green papers from a cabinet on the wall near her desk. Walking back over to us, she hands me the papers. I flip them upright, reading the text on them.

"Permission slips?"

"I need the both of you to get those to every senior class— or as many as you can. Give each teacher thirty-five," she explains as she takes a seat at her desk again. "They were supposed to be handed out this morning, but I totally forgot to give them to all the teachers during the staff meeting. Do you guys think you can do that for me?"

I nod along. "Yeah, we can do it."

"Great." She smiles. "Thanks."

We walk away from her desk and to the door of the classroom. I open the door, looking back to see Asher still at the desk we were sitting at. He quickly grabs his phone from the table and walks over to me.

He grabs the stack of papers from me, reading over the contents of the sheet. I look over, also reading the page I didn't take a second glance at when they were handed to me.

"History museum?" He reads. "Yeah, fuck that." He hands the stack of papers back to me as we make our way to the English class.

I carefully count thirty-five permission slips, handing them to him so he can give them to the teacher.

"How many field trips are there every year?" I ask him curiously. He opens the door Ms. Gregg's class. "More than two?"

Before he responds, he quickly makes his way over to Ms. Gregg's desk and hands her the permission slips, explaining to her that he and I are bringing them to every senior class.

"We have three," he replies once he's closed the door to the classroom. "Beach trip is in the spring— it's our last senior activity of the year."

I nod, humming in understanding. We trot down the stairs to the main floor of the building. Before we enter the history classroom, I pick out another thirty-five sheets of paper from the stack.

Asher opens the door again, and we both walk inside the empty classroom to give Mr. Sanders his set of permission slips.

"What's up, Sanders?" Asher holds out his hand as Mr. Sanders grasps onto it and does that handshake guys are so fond of.

"Ms. Richards sent you to hand these things out?" He asks him, gesturing to the short stack of green permission slips resting on his desk. "Hell, I'm surprised she trusted you enough to leave the damn classroom without supervision."

Asher shrugs. "She only sent me to do it cause I'm with my good influence," he replies, nodding his head in my direction.

"Yeah, I see that." He nods. "Anyways, thanks guys. See you in sixth."

I smile, letting Asher take the lead on ending this conversation. "See ya."

Once we're outside of the classroom, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans down so our faces are closer together. I look up at him, furrowing my eyebrows.

"You were so quiet in there."

I shrug his arm away, which he responds to with a frown. I hold up the stack of papers to separate another thirty-five as we head to Economics.

"Mr. Sanders intimidates me."

He smiles. "Why's that?"

I look up at him again as we near the classroom. "He just does," I reply as he opens the door for us.

We walk inside the room, giving the teacher her set of permission slips. I have to call Asher's name a few times to tear him away from a conversation he began with one of the students in the class.

"If you want, Estella," he starts as we leave the room. He sighs dramatically before continuing. "I'll protect you from Mr. Sanders."

I roll my eyes, holding up the bigger stack of permission slips to whack him on the arm with them.

-

"You're quiet today," Aaron says as I pop a grape into my mouth.

I chew on the crunchy fruit, slowly turning my head to face him. "Really?"

He nods. "Really."

I've hardly been able to make eye contact with Aaron the entire day. Every time I look into his eyes, guilt rushes through my body as I recall Friday evening.

"I'm just a little tired."

"It's almost your birthday." Devin smiles, nudging Aaron's arm. "What are we doing for the big eighteen?"

"I don't think—"

"We're throwing him the best party of his fucking life is what we're doing," Asher interjects, grabbing a couple of Hot Fries from his bag. "Right, Aaron?"

I tear my gaze from Asher to face Aaron again. A giddy smile spreads across his cheeks, a grin spreading across mine as I take in his expression.

"Right." He nods. The smile quickly drops from his face as his eyes widen. "Shit, we gotta get to that meeting for try-outs."

"Fuck," Asher mutters, standing from his spot after snatching his bag of chips from the table. "Don't miss us too much."

Asher holds his gaze on me for a second too long. I look away, shaking my head as the two of them walk over to the gym.

"What?" I say once I meet Devin's eyes.

She shrugs. "Nothing. I'm gonna go find Josh."

She stands up from her spot, pulling up her jeans before she grabs her phone from the table.

"You told Asher," I blurt out before she can walk away from the table.

She pauses, staring at me for a few seconds as she contemplates whether or not she wants to spend her time talking to me. With a deep breath, she sits back down in front of me. "I know."

I chew on the inside of my cheek. "When I told you..." I begin, fidgeting with my cell phone. "You promised you wouldn't tell."

"Estella, he's a fucking dickhead and—"

"But it wasn't your choice to make."

"I know that."

"And I had put it behind me." I sigh. "I was done thinking about it and all I wanted to do was move on— but now, now he's mad. And he's gonna take it out on Asher and I don't want him to..."

Her eyebrows furrow. "You don't want him to what?"

I shrug, messing with the ringer button on my phone, feeling the small vibration every time I put it on silent mode.

"I don't know. I just don't want to see Asher get hurt... by Jacob."

She scoffs, a smile spreading across her face. "Fucking Jacob? Beating Asher's ass?" She shakes her head. "Never gonna happen. I'll tell you that much."

I crack the smallest of smiles, nodding my head as I realize she's right— Asher would probably die before letting Jacob even get a single hit in.

"I'm sorry for telling him," she says. "It... um, it wasn't my place to do that. Asher wouldn't leave me alone until I told him the truth. He was pissed when I told him, but I never said who it was. But you know... Asher's smart, so I think he figured it out all on his own."

I shrug, staring down at the table before looking up at her again. "It's okay. And yeah, he did."

She nods. "Estella, I don't want you to think I'm some girl with a big mouth who can't keep shit to herself," she says. "I can. I told Asher only cause he wouldn't leave me the hell alone and if I'm honest, I wanted Jacob to get what he deserved, too. He hurt you, and what goes around comes back around."

"I get it," I reply.

"Be honest with me for a second though," she says as she leans forward. "Did you at least feel a little happy seeing Jacob getting the shit beat out of him?"

I laugh, shaking my head. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to admit the fact that, even if it were only for a single moment, I was rooting for Asher to continue as I watched them fight in Madison's front living room.

"Not even a little?"

I shrug. "Maybe a little."