That incident made the two of us become friends. Very fast friends. We would meet each other outside of school, walk in together, share our phone numbers, and eat together as well. We would talk to each other a lot better than before, but...something kept coming up.
Whenever our conversations would get personal, she would always avoid talking about her parents and other things about her life. And what was concerning was the fact that more bruises were appearing on my arms and legs every night. It got to the point where I had to wear a shirt (a long-sleeved one) to cover them up.
The strange thing was, these started appearing after I met Ashley and started talking with her.
I didn't understand what was happening at the time, but I knew that something was up. I just didn't know how to break this to Ashley.
One day, near the beginning of April, at lunch, I decided to try and talk about it. "So...Ashley. How are you." I asked hesitantly.
"What do you mean, Chris?" she asked, confused. She took a sip of her water.
"I-well, I mean it literally: how are you doing?" I said. Inwardly, I cursed. I hadn't wanted that to happen. I guess my communication skills hadn't improved.
"I'm fine," she said calmly, putting her water down. Something seemed to be wrong with that statement, but I didn't question it.
"Alright," I said. I looked away, then I looked back at her again, deciding that I would come straight out and say it. "So, how's your home life?" I said, almost blurting it out.
"I-" She looked away as if she was unsure of how to respond to that. Then she turned to Dick and Abigail and said, "So how have you two been?" She had changed the subject.
"There we go again," I muttered to myself. "It's always about her home life."
"I'm doing great, thank you, Ashley!" Abigail said, smiling wide. "How are you?"
"I've been fine!" she said, smiling back. "I've been talking a lot more with Chris."
"Oh?" Abigail said, a mischievous grin sneaking onto her face. "Is something going on between you two?"
"No!" Ashley said, a bit red in the face. "We're just friends..."
Dick and Abigail both looked at me, making me a little uncomfortable. "So," Dick said. "You made a friend."
"I-you-Argh!!" I sighed. "Yes, I made a friend."
"How did it happen?" Abigail asked, eagerly looking at me and Ashley. Ashley didn't say anything, instead gesturing to me. "Well, then tell us, Chris!" Abigail said, looking at me eagerly.
I sighed, then I told them about the day when we became friends. After I had finished, Dick and Abigail looked at each other, then back at me. "Dude," Dick said. "That...you handled that so well." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Great job. I mean...well, I wouldn't say that making Ashley cry is a great job, but great job going after her and comforting her."
"...thanks?" I said, then I turned to Abigail. I was a bit shocked that she had tears in her eyes. "What the-? Why are you crying?" I asked.
"It-it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard," she said, wiping away a tear.
"Okay, it wasn't that emotional," I protested. "It couldn't have been. There's no way-"
"I'm just-" She wiped away another year. "I'm just really happy for you, Chris." She smiled at me through her tears.
After a little bit, I reluctantly smiled back. I wasn't used to this kind of attention or reaction to that. It...it was kind of nice. Then I remembered Ashley and turned back to her.
She was looking away, rubbing her arms gently. She had stopped paying attention to Dick and Abigail and seemed to be deep in thought. "Ashley?" I asked gently.
She turned to me, startled. "Yes?"
"Are, uh...are you okay?" I asked, a little nervously.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, letting go of them. At this point, I was sure that she had the same bruises as me, but I decided to keep quiet about it. After all, who would believe me if I said, "Oh, well I and this other girl have the same bruises on our bodies."
No one would.
"Okay," I said. "Just wanted to make sure. You looked deep in thought."
"I was," she said, giving me a small smile.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked.
Her smile slowly faded. "I..." She turned away from me and said, "I was just thinking about family, that's all."
It was clear she didn't want to talk about it, so I said, "I won't pry, I'm just...I'm just worried about you."
"You don't need to be," she said, looking back and giving me a small smile. But in that smile, I saw pain and guilt, as if she didn't want to lie to me. I sighed inwardly. I will respect her privacy until she decides to tell me, I decided.
"Alright, then," I said. I rubbed my hands together and looked at the food. Today was one of those days where the food was five-star quality. I said, "Time to eat!"
I started to eat, but then I noticed Ashley again. She had less food in front of her than normal: the main dish, no sides, and a glass of water. It was something that people with not a lot of money would buy. It was weird seeing her with that much food.
"No appetite?" I asked her, before spooning a bit of my food into my mouth and enjoying every bite of it.
She smiled, and she said, "Yeah...just not hungry today." She took a small bite of her food. It seemed like she was trying to make the food last.
"I see," I said, and I looked down at my food. I looked back up at Ashley, and her expression seemed…
Well, it seemed like she was hungry.
I finally settled the debate in my head, and I said, " Here you go." I took off the food that I had already taken a bite out of and slid over my tray to her.
"Wha-? No, I'm fine," she said, and she slid the tray back over to me.
"But I insist," I said, and I slid the tray back over to her. "You look really hungry."
"I-" For a moment, it looked like she really wanted to grab the food, but then she said, "I'm really fine, thank you." She slid it back over to me.
At this point, no words could explain my confusion. I thought I was doing the right thing, but she kept saying she was fine. Something was up, but as I had decided, I wouldn't pry at all. "Alright," I said. For a moment, there was an awkward silence between us. Then I stood up and walked away, tray in hand.
"Wait!!!" Ashley cried, and I turned around. There was genuine fear in her eyes as if she didn't want me to leave. "Don't-don't leave, please...."
"I'm only going to the bathroom," I said, smiling. "I'll be right back, okay?"
She looked at me, a little distrust in her eyes, then she slowly nodded, sitting back down in the process. I turned back and walked, putting the tray down on another empty table. I walked out of the cafeteria, going to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and looked at myself in the mirror.
I was a little bit surprised by what I saw. It had only been a few weeks, and yet I could already see the differences in me. For one, I seemed to have a lot more confidence within me. There wasn't much to begin with, so I don't know if that's an improvement or not.
Second, my appearance. I looked a lot better than I did before. Before, I was disheveled, my hair out of place, and I didn't exactly look awake. Now, I looked more alert, and my hair looked more...natural. It made sense since I started combing my hair and all. Also, my attire had changed as well. I normally wore a shirt with a few top buttons unbuttoned, and no tie, but now I had a tie and even though it was uncomfortable, I had the shirt buttoned up all the way. I looked...a whole lot more presentable.
"Well," I said, smiling at myself. "Look at you. You look...amazing." I splashed some water onto my face, and I dried off my face with a paper towel. But then as I was drying myself off, even though there was no one in the bathroom, my face moved to the side, as if I had been slapped, and as I looked in the mirror, there was a very obvious hand mark on my face. "What's going on?" I asked myself quietly. "How in the-?"
Then I was shoved to the floor by some invisible force, and my head smacked into the sinks, leaving a nasty mark. I groaned, and I made my way to my feet a little unsteadily.
Something was wrong, and I somehow knew that it involved Ashley. I immediately ran for the cafeteria, albeit a little bit unsteadily, and as I reached the doors, I could hear the sound of loud voices and laughter coming from inside. This solidified that something was wrong, and I burst through the door, and that's when I saw it:
Ashley was on the ground, with a bunch of dudes surrounding her. And one of them was the one we had bumped into a while ago.
"S-stop!" Ashley cried, curled up on the floor, holding her head. "Please!" From where I was, I could just barely make out a red slap mark on her face and, curiously enough, she was holding the spot where I had hit my head on the sink. This made my anger start to boil over, and I made my way over, the pain in my head forgotten.
The guy laughed, a mean, derisive laugh. "And why should I?" he said, sneering down at her.
Dick put a hand on his shoulder, and he said, "Alright, man. Let's try and talk about this-"
"You stay out of this, Mr. Perfect," the guy snarled, and he shoved Dick away, and he almost fell over if Abigail wasn't nearby to catch him. "Mark, stop!" she yelled. "This is going too far!"
"If you want me to stop, then make me!" he yelled back, shutting her up. He turned back to Ashley and kneeled next to her. "So, answer me: why should I stop?"
"It-it hurts!" she said, her voice breaking as she started to cry. "It hurts..."
Mark smirked, and he stood up and faced the circle of people around him. "Would you look at that?" he said, an evil smile on his face. "The Little freak is crying." A whole lot of people laughed at that, and it made Ashley curl up into a smaller ball, and something started to break within me.
Abigail looked at me, horrified and also scared. She quickly walked over to me and said, "Chris, you have to calm down! You can't lose your temper. If what happened last year happens again-" She left it that, and looked back over to Ashley and Mark. Hearing her say that helped to calm me down a little bit, but what was happening only served to make me angrier, so it didn't really help me out that much.
She uncurled herself a little bit to look up at Mark. "Please," she said, her eyes full of tears. "Just...just stop."
He sneered down at her. "No," he said, and he kicked her in the stomach. At the same time, it landed, I felt something hit me in my own stomach, and I found myself pushed back into some other people, and they shoved me out and into the sights of Mark. He turned and saw me. "Oh, would you look at that?" he said, letting out a derisive laugh. "The coward is here." He smirked at me, but in his eyes, there was a little bit of fear. It was clear he remembered that incident.
I raised my fists, preparing myself for a fight.