the hating game ; lrh

fifteen

AN HOUR LATER (AND particularly late, might I add) we pull up out the front of Michael's house.

I climb out of the car and let Luke and Calum pile various cords in my arms (I don't know why they don't just keep these at Michael's house permanently) to be taken inside. Once they both have their instruments and the car is locked, we make our way to the front door.

"Can you open it, Rory?" Calum asks, nodding at the door.

I cast him an unimpressed look, simply nodding down toward where my arms are tangled with thick, black cords. "I can't move my arms," I deadpan. I look to Luke. "Luke?"

"Don't look at me, my hands are full," he raises his hands, which are clinging tightly to both his and Calum's guitars.

"Well, maybe put the guitars down for two seconds and open the door," the words fly out of my mouth unintentionally aggressively, and I immediately cast Luke an apologetic glance, which he swiftly ignores.

Just as Luke is reaching for the handle, the door flies open, revealing a tall, curly-haired boy standing on the other side. I feel myself shrink back unintentionally, clutching tighter at the surprisingly heavy cords and almost willing my brother and Luke to be concealing me. I shouldn't have come, I tell myself. Ashton stares down at me like a deer caught in headlights, his mouth open and closing several times without making any noise at all.

The tension between the three of us is unbearable. Ashton is gaping across at me, I am staring at my feet and Luke is glaring back at Ashton, all in silence. Calum is the first person to speak, his voice cheery and completely ignorant.

"Hey, Ash!" He chirps, slicing through the awkward silence swiftly and cleanly.

"Um -- hey," Ashton appears to be caught extremely off guard, and I can tell by the way that he eyes me momentarily that he expected me to inform my brother of last night's events. After what seems like forever, Ashton finally steps to the aside and gestures for us to enter the house. "You guys are a bit late."

Luke scoffs and pushes past Ashton, shoving him back carelessly as he does so. Calum shrugs and steps inside respectfully next, both boys making their way down to the basement. I don't waste any time before following suit, pushing past Ashton in the door way and speeding towards the basement stairs.

I hear the door close behind me and Ashton's voice fills the halls before I can manage to escape.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" He asks, his voice small and weak.

"I'm kind of busy," I say, holding up the cords as my evidence.

"Can you just -- please? Quickly?" Ashton pleads, his brows tugging together and his expression distraught.

I let out a sigh and nod slightly, readjusting my hold on the cords. "Fine. Two minutes."

Ashton nods, his face relaxing slightly in relief. "I'm so sorry about last night, Rory," he tells me, and as much as I don't want to believe it I know that he's being truthful. "I was being such an..."

"Asshole?" I finish his sentence for him, brows raised dramatically.

"Yes," he nods intently. "And so much more. The only explanation I have is that I was just so drunk."

"That's not an excuse," I repeat the words Luke told me last night, hoping that this time I'll believe them.

"I know," Ashton responds instantly. "I know. I just... look, not many people know this about me, Rory, but... my dad was an alcoholic."

My heart stops at his words. If Luke were here he would be telling me that none of this mattered -- that whatever his dad was, it didn't excuse his behaviour. And he was right. But with every word Ashton speaks I find myself making more and more room in my heart to forgive him.