a/n: trying to figure out formatting & failing lmao, let me know if the scene break markers are distracting or not
February 2 2011
With a grimace at the pinching pain behind her right shoulder blade, Ashton stepped off the last of the stairs. Her hair was still damp between her fingers as she finished off her second French braid. With the diffuser head to her hairdryer missing, blow-drying her hair was not an option. Frizzy hair wasn't worth the heat damage.
She sighed.
"You're just pissed off because you're tired." She reasoned with herself under her breath.
One of the little tidbits she'd held onto from therapy. Sometimes she just needed to talk herself through the bad feelings. It didn't always work but with these supernatural hormones, she needed to resort to treating herself like a nine-year-old.
She was acting like a nine-year-old. Cranky because she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep. Cranky because she'd isolated herself from her peers and now that she wanted to branch out, there was no way to make friends after establishing herself as a reclusive bitch. Cranky because a monster was going to want her dead in four days. Cranky because the semester wasn't even close to being over.
With an overly exaggerated eye roll, she strolled into the kitchen.
Only to stop short, eyes widening.
Her dad sat at the dinner table, cup of tea in one hand and newspaper in the other. His face was stubbled and still creased from sleep.
What was more surprising was the woman standing with a hip leaned against the countertop watching coffee brew. She was immaculately dressed for seven in the morning. A deep crimson pencil skirt with a stark white blouse tucked into it. The matching crimson blazer lay folded on the counter. Her hair was slicked back in a French twist, not so much as a strand out of place.
"Mother?" Ashton blurted out.
Her dad startled but her mother didn't. Agatha Monroe's head tipped slightly but that was the only outward sign that she'd heard her.
"Hey sweetie," Her dad finally broke the silence. "Mom's brewing coffee. She picked up some donuts on her way home."
"When did you get back?" Ashton frowned. How had she not noticed another heartbeat in the house?
"Twenty-seven minutes ago." Her mother finally turned to face her.
"Right. I thought you were on a business trip." Ashton finally pulled herself from the doorway to the counter. There was a pastry box there.
"I was checking up on the San Francisco location."
Ashton hummed, picking out a chocolate with sprinkles. It didn't really matter where her mother had gone. She just wasn't here. It wasn't anything new. And frankly, she had bigger problems than parents who didn't care.
"I'm going to school," Ashton lifted the donut. "Thanks for breakfast."
"It's only seven, Ash." Her dad frowned over his mug. "Can't you sit awhile?"
Correction: she had bigger problems than mothers who don't care. At least dad was in the same town. Ashton walked over to press a kiss to his cheek.
"Group project. We're meeting at the library." The lie rolled off her tongue, easier now that it was the millionth time she's told it.
He nodded, giving her a hesitant smile.
Her mother fixed her with a long, undecipherable look before she turned back to the coffee pot. "Have a nice day."
And just like that, she was pissed again, "Sure."
\\\
Outside the house she crammed half the donut into her mouth, freeing her hands to jam a beanie over her damp hair. She picked up her bag from the ground, slung it over her shoulder, and started the long skate to school. She finished eating not even a minute later, so she didn't even have that to distract her.
"This sucks." She groaned.
"What sucks?"
Ashton gasped, yelped, and tumbled off the board. Her palms scraped against the concrete sidewalk, her elbows and knees cracked against the ground as she rolled. She winced, already feeling the minor injuries heal as she sat upright.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was everyone sneaking up on her today?
If the Alpha wanted her dead, today she wouldn't even see him coming.
She pushed her hat and hair out of her eyes and searched for the source of the voice.
Kora stood ten feet ahead, straddling her bike as she twisted around to smirk at Ashton. The small girl tipped her head, a sheet of black hair sliding over her shoulder. She raised a hand and wiggled her fingers and greeting.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Don't you check your phone, Monroe?" Kora raised her brows.
Ashton stilled before pulling her phone out of her bag. The only unread message was from the unknown number. Fixing Kora with a glance filled to the brim with suspicion, she opened it.
i'll give you a ride tomorrow, monroe. txt me when you're ready to go. or not. doesn't matter.
Ashton read over the message a half-dozen times before meeting Kora's eyes again.
"You texted me?"
"Uh, duh."
"This is the creepiest message I've ever gotten." Ashton snorted.
Kora tipped her head in a 'come on now' way. "We both know that's not true. You got creepier messages after your sister—"
"Shut up." Ashton snarled, her nose a mere inch away from Kora's.
Kora's bright green eyes widened before they flicked down to Ashton's mouth, then back up to her eyes. Rage pounded in Ashton's mind. No one talked about what happened. No one talked about Caron. And Ashton was so sick of being reminded of her.
"Easy, Monroe." Kora murmured.
She sucked in a heavy breath, shaking her head. She looked away. Damn. She moved fast. She hadn't even meant to.
Ashton tugged on a braid, walking back to collect her bag and find her skateboard. It took a few minutes and she dragged it out in order to give her more time to tuck the anger away. So, Kora wasn't exaggerating when she said her family kept tabs on everything and everyone. Was that how she was able to get under people's skin so easily? Maybe Kora was just a natural at pissing her off.
She turned back to find Kora watching her quietly. The usual impish amusement that shone in her face was subdued. Now, she was wary.
"Sorry." Ashton met her eyes. "Don't bring that up again."
"Noted." Kora chewed on her lip before smiling. "Hop on."
"What?"
Kora patted the rack Ashton had rode on out of the Preserve. Now, that was a hellish ride. Ashton barked out a laugh, shaking her head.
"No way. Why?"
Kora pouted, "I thought it was fun. And it was a great leg workout. I want to be able to crush watermelons with my thighs."
Ashton didn't get this girl and she should probably stop trying to.
"I've got a set of wheels." She held up the board.
"Ashton." Kora turned away, facing forward as she settled on the seat again. "Get on."
Ashton threw her head back and groaned.
\\\
Kora was a better rider when she could see.
\\\
It was easier to find Stiles now that she'd already done it once.
He smelled like coffee and motor oil and smoke half smothered under pungent deodorant layered over teen boy smell. It was nice. She wouldn't mind smelling that more and she definitely would now that she could pick it out of a crowd without meaning to. And he wasn't the only kid carrying that combination of scents. But there was something about it. Something specific to him.
What did Scott and Derek smell when picking out her scent? She couldn't tell. Like hell she'd ever ask.
Kora had ditched her the moment her bike was locked, so suffice to say Ashton had gotten a little antsy waiting for someone else to show up to talk to. Jesus. Never thought she'd feel that way about anyone.
Regardless, she did. The moment she spotted him in the crowd she perked up and made a bee-line for him. But once he caught sight of her, he turned and started walking the opposite direction.
Which… stung.
And the hurt shifted to anger without even trying.
She moved easily through the throng of people, following the natural currents so she could reach Stiles' side without issue. He glanced at her, startled, then scowled and looked away. She pressed her lips into a thin line.
Don't freak out. Don't blow up. Relax.
"Are you ignoring me?" She did not do a good job keeping the anger out of her voice.
He cast her an incredulous look with a nice helping of 'I can't believe you're using that tone right now.' Suitably chastised, she sighed.
"I'm sorry. Derek said to 'use my rage' and now I can't stop."
"Derek?" Stiles hissed, looking at her before quickly looking away.
"Yeah." She reached out to take his arm, stopping. "Stiles, wait."
He pulled his arm from her and glared.
"What did I do? Why are you angry?" The anger in her popped like a bubble full of smoke, washing her in a feeling she couldn't put a name to.
His dark eyes searched her face. A moment later he sighed.
"You were there when my dad got hurt. Why didn't you do anything?"
Her mouth opened in shock.
"I—" She clenched her fists. "I did try. I thought it was the Alpha but I went after it anyway. It got shot before I could get to it. Don't tell me I didn't do anything."
Surprise overtook Stiles' face. "I didn't know that."
"Obviously." Ashton crossed her arms. "So, I take back my apology."
He shook his head with an eye-roll. "Okay. I'm sorry for doubting you, Sunshine."
Ashton bit back a smile and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "It's fine, sweetheart."
He rolled his eyes again, then paused, visibly recalibrating.
"What did you say about Derek, again?"
Ashton stepped out of the flow of traffic more, leaning a shoulder against the wall. It was embarrassing to explain, considering how vocal she was about not like or trusting Derek. But she was changing her mind on a lot of things, lately.
"We talked yesterday. He advised using anger to control…" She tilted her head and widened her eyes. The werewolf thing went unsaid. "And it worked."
"But now you can't control the anger?" Stiles tapped a finger against his leg.
"I don't know if it's you-know-what's fault or if God or something was like 'fuck you in particular today.'" She pinched the hem of her shirt and tugged on it.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I'm having a bad day and it's making this shit worse."
The bell rang and Ashton pushed off of the wall. She smiled and hoped Stiles wouldn't press further. And he had a look on his face that screamed that he would, so Ashton slipped back into the crowd, losing him with ease.
\\\
With the way her life had been going the past few days, Ashton should have known the rest of the day would not pass in peace. She'd only had one more class to go before lunch, English, and she'd stopped by her locker for a second to switch textbooks. At that time, she was surrounded.
She glanced at either side of her, spotting the infamous Lydia Martin to her left, and Allison to her right. The latter looked hesitant, teeth worrying her thumbnail as she leaned against the neighboring locker. Lydia had a sickly-sweet smile and a calculating look in her eyes as she looked up at her.
Shit.
"Can I help you?" Ashton asked after a long moment, meeting Lydia's eyes.
The redhead cocked a hip and a brow. "We just wanted to talk."
"Really." Ashton glanced over at Allison. "What about?"
Allison glanced between her and Lydia, shaking her head slightly. Ashton jumped when a hand patted her arm, and she looked back at Lydia.
It was pretty strange, being on Lydia Martin's radar. She'd never wanted to be, of course, and had never had a reason to be.
"It's just weird, you know. You swooping in on Scott when Allison can't see him." Lydia shrugged, eyes wide with faux innocence.
Ashton rolled her eyes to the ceiling before closing them. Shit.
"It's not like that."
"Oh, really? Can you explain what happened last night then?" Lydia pressed, before putting her hands on her hips. "Allison? Why don't you?"
"Lydia, we really don't need to do this." Allison shook her head.
Lydia barreled forward. "Why'd you show up in the middle of the night to talk to him? Why'd you leave the school with him? Why'd you meet before school yesterday morning? Why is he ignoring Allison now?"
Ashton widened her eyes. "We're just working on an English project together."
Lydia clicked her tongue. "Sweetheart, I'm in your English class. We don't have a project coming up."
Fuck. Shit. Damn.
Ashton breathed in through her nose, looking back into her locker. Okay. Okay, shit. There was no way she could tell them the truth. What new lie would be believable enough, that would explain her sketchiness? She didn't know, she didn't—oh. Shit.
She lowered her face, bit her lip, and glanced between them again. "Okay, y'all can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."
Neither of them looked very impressed, so she didn't wait long before she continued.
"It's just that, I like Stiles," Allison's expression cleared, Lydia's didn't. "Scott's best friend? But I don't know what to do. I thought that Scott could help me win him over."
"Oh." Allison tilted her head. "Why didn't you just say so?"
Lydia held up a hand. "Not so fast. Why'd you need to ask Scott last night?"
Ashton shrugged. "I was already at school when I came up with the idea. I couldn't bear waiting, y'know? And when I talked to him, his mom insisted on driving me home." Ashton turned, leaning her butt against the locker. "Do you have any advice? You both have boyfriends, you know what you're doing."
Allison smiled, leaning a bit closer. "I'm not sure what I did, actually. I was just being myself."
"Allison, you're a darling already." Lydia gestured at Ashton. "You need some work, sweetheart. Maybe smile for once? Use some product in your hair. A bit of makeup would really make your eyes pop."
Ashton blinked a few times in rapid succession. On one hand, ouch. On the other, she wasn't about to ignore advice from the most popular girl in school at a time when she actually wanted to make an effort to be like and desired. Lydia tossed her hair over a shoulder, walked over to Allison and linked arms before dragging the taller girl down the hall. She looked over her shoulder and called out once more.
"You're welcome! Don't expect anything more."
She lifted her chin, giving once wave of acknowledgment before turning again to gather her books. And promptly dropped her forehead against the metal with a metallic clang.
Damn it.
What the hell did she just do?