Chapter III

The Girl Named "Ashley"

[Part II]

[R E A L I T Y]

Rain was rattling against the umbrella, as if threatening to force through the stretched nylon and soak the two teens huddled beneath. Ashley gazed up at him with widened eyes. She was uncomfortably close—enough so that he could hear each of her soft breaths as they fogged the air between them.

“You, mister,” she admonished, “are late!” Oddball stared at her. She wasn’t wrong, exactly. What time was it now? Probably around ten? She’d said she’d be here at nine in the morning, though. Had she really been waiting a whole hour for him to show up? The girl in the red raincoat put one hand on her hip. She glared at him, though the expression seemed insincere. “Well? Say something. Don’t just stand there gawking and making it all weird again.” She looked away. “It’s rude to stare, y’know, no matter how pretty you think someone is. I didn’t even wear makeup today. Honestly…!”

What? The muttered words sank in, and Oddball felt his face growing warm. He stepped backwards. “No, no, it’s not like that— sorry, I just—”

Ashley suddenly leaned in so close that her nose almost touched his mask. Her eyes were hardened and cold. “Oh? Are you tryna to say I’m not pretty? Is that what you’re tryna say?”

Oddball was cornered. He threw his hands up in frenzied surrender. “N-no! I didn’t say that!!”

Ashley’s expression changed. She hopped back, almost exposing Oddball to the downpour by jostling the umbrella with the sudden movement. “So you do think I’m pretty!!” She struck an animated pose, grinning brightly at him. Oddball’s face was blazing now. Not even the mask brought the comfort of concealment—some feeling told him she could see right through it.

“Eh...I…uh…” His thoughts were scattered, refusing to come together to give him some sort of response. Change the subject!! Only strange, frantic noises slipped from his mouth. Say something! Say something, idiot!

Ashley laughed. “Relax, Mask-Boy, I’m just playing with you.” She nudged at him with her elbow, then held the umbrella to him. “I already know I’m beautiful. Here.” Oddball stared at the umbrella as his face cooled, and then shifted his gaze back to the girl.

“Don’t you need it?”

She reached up and tugged at the rim of her oversized hood, then swatted at the air; the motion made the sleeve of her coat slide forward and swallow her hand. It hung loosely and swayed a little in the cold gust that picked up. “You think I wear this thing for looks or something? Just take it.” She pressed the umbrella to his chest, making him reach up and fumble with it so it wouldn’t fall to the ground. “You can give it back to me tomorrow or something.”

Tomorrow? Oddball narrowed his eyes. “What if you don’t see me tomorrow?”

Ashley shrugged with closed eyes and that ever-present, loose smile. Her other sleeve had swallowed her other hand now, making her shrug all the more cartoon-ish and exaggerated. “Then give it back to me the next time I do see you, dummy. It’s not rocket-science or anything.” She started walking back over to the railing, leaving a frozen Oddball in her wake and clutching her strawberry-red umbrella. She looked back over her shoulder. Her face wasn’t visible past the edge of her hood. The rain broke against her coat, forming a ghostly outline around her figure in the haze. “Well?” she called. “Are you gonna keep standing there like a weirdo? C’mon, Mask-Boy, you just got here. Don’t start zoning out on me now.”

The realization of how this must have looked set in—standing there motionless, holding an umbrella while gawking after her as she walked away from him. Oddball shook his head. Christ, get it together. What would Sam say if she saw you acting like this? The very thought twisted his face into a grimace. He’d never hear the end of it from her.

“Right. Sorry,” he murmured and half-jogged to catch up with Ashley. Just get through it today. Then you can tell Sam you tried and you won’t have to do this ever again. Ashley leaned up against the railing, looking out over the turbulent ocean through the fog of rain and seafoam-spray. Oddball did the same, but put his back to the ocean and let the umbrella lazily rest against his shoulder. They were right where they had met yesterday: in front of the café with that stupid neon sign of the jellyfish and the coffee mug. At least in this weather, it made sense to have it on. On a day like today, the café seemed particularly enticing. Others must have thought so too, drawn in by its warmly lit windows like moths—it was crowded. The doors were in a constant state of motion, so it was a wonder how the warmth of the place hadn’t already escaped. Someone was either entering, shaking off water from their umbrellas or coats, or leaving with a steaming cup or paper bag or both in hand. From out here, he could barely make out the figures of baristas moving, with no small amount of urgency, to-and-fro behind the counter—taking orders, making and handing off drinks, sharing hurried small talk with customers and co-workers alike. How’s your morning going? What’ll you be having? That last customer was rather impatient, wasn’t he?

A hand suddenly obscured his view, waving up and down, then tapped against his mask once, twice, three times.

“Oi, Mask-Boy! Oddball!” Oddball snapped out of his observant trance and turned. Ashley was wearing an impatient frown and leaning too close to him again. He shifted a little away from her without removing himself from the railing. “Goodness, are you always like this? You’re a total vegetable or something. Like tryna hold a conversation with a rock. How do you function, standing around and staring off into space like that?”

“Sorry…”

“What’s up with you today, anyways? You seem extra space-y.” She pointed at her head and twirled her finger for emphasis.

“I don’t know, sorry.”

“You say that a lot, y’know that? I’m starting to wonder what you do know.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t start saying that a bunch now too!!” Oddball opened his mouth, but paused. “You were about to say it again, weren’t you?” She was scowling. She was annoyed, probably.

“No,” he lied. Sorry…

“Right. Anyways, I never did get an answer from you yesterday. Where you from?”

Didn’t I already answer this? Deja Vu had him scraping his memory. He swore he had. She must not have heard him. Whatever, this wasn’t the time to debate it. “The dorms.” He gestured back up the lonely road with his thumb.

“That’s it?” She scrunched her face a little at his reply. Even this seemed forced: a ramshackle mask to cover the gleaming friendliness beneath. No matter what expression she wore, Ashley couldn’t conceal her overwhelming positive aura.

Oddball shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, usually people come from more than just ‘the dorms’. It’s not like you were born there.” Oddball winced. It was a pretty poor answer to the question. “And besides,” she continued, “I thought the local college was on Summer Break by now. What are you still doing in the dorms? Summer school or something?”

“No, nothing like that,” Oddball said, “I’m just staying here for the Summer.”

“Don’t you have parents or something?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he said dismissively.

“Why would you stay cooped up in a dorm all Summer when you could go home and spend time with your family? I dunno, that just sounds really weird to me,” Ashley said. Oddball looked away from her. How long was this interrogation going to last? A growing pressure from within made him shift uncomfortably.

“This is just more convenient, that’s all. Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one who does it,” he said. There are at least four or five other people staying there, I think. It’s not that strange.

“Just cuz someone else does it doesn’t make it any less weird. But hey, your family issues aren’t my business.” Family issues?! Oddball whipped around, ready to fire off a heated remark about minding her own business, but Ashley was faster. “I’m from the West residential district,” she pointed out beyond the café, “in the fancier area. Gated communities. Big houses. Big yards. Backyard pools. Real bourgeois stuff. I hate it.”

Great, Oddball thought, how cliché.

“My Dad owns a tech company. He’s not really about the whole ‘fancy living’ thing, but Mom insists on living ‘somewhere safe’. I just think it’s annoying. What’s the point of a big backyard if you never do anything with it?”

Oddball leaned back a bit more, gazing up into the red canopy above him. “I don’t know why you’d complain about it. Most people would love to live like that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not most people. It’s boring. Big houses are too big. It’s just…too much house, y’know? I thought it was cool when I was a little kid, always exploring everything,” she said. She turned around as she continued speaking, mimicking Oddball’s posture. “But, y’know, you live there long enough and you eventually run out of places to explore. It’s not like one of those mega-mansions you see on TV or anything. It’s not like we live in a castle. There’s no wine cellar you can pretend is a creepy dungeon, no ancient, dusty library full of secrets to explore, no tower you can sit in to play ‘princess’ while the other neighborhood kids play ‘knights’. It’s just a house. Every house gets boring, eventually, y’know.”

Oddball tried to picture it: getting bored of wandering through a huge house as a child, hunting down secrets and giggling to himself as he’d “discover” a “secret passageway” for the fifth time. I don’t know, it still sounds better than a dorm room… He kept that thought to himself. Ashley carried on.

“I’d much prefer a small place, y’know? A little house. No big rooms, no oversized backyards that need a ton of maintenance. No pools, no giant living rooms. No separate, four car garages.”

Oddball was nearly gaping at her now as she disapprovingly rambled off the things that any normal person would dream about as they worked their dead-end nine-to-five. Is this girl for real?

“None of that crap. I just want a nice little place on the edge of a little forest. I don’t even need a garage, I’d just park out front. Heck, I don’t even need a car. Why would you drive anywhere when you can walk and enjoy the fresh air? Not that there’s anything wrong with driving a car, obviously, I just think it’s…” She must have noticed him staring, because her voice trailed off. Her rosy cheeks turned a little redder and her posture became more rigid. “Oh, sorry…I’m rambling, huh?”

Yeah. Oddball didn’t want to be rude and say it out loud. For a moment, both looked awkwardly to the ground, squirming in place. For a moment, silence hung between the two. For a moment, the only sound that filled the air was the rush of rain against concrete and the distant chiming of the cafe’s doorbell.

“Hey. You hungry?” Ashley finally broke the silence.

“Huh?” The question caught Oddball a little off-guard. He looked back up. Ashley was gazing wistfully at the café with the silly neon sign and the glowing windows, tossing him side-glances every couple seconds. Hungry? He was, now that he thought about it. He didn’t normally eat in the mornings. Say, did he even remember to make dinner last night?

Ashley started for the little building. “C’mon. I’ll buy you something.”

Oddball took a step to follow, but almost instantly became aware of the stiff, plastic slab pressed against his face. He reached up and touched it gently, as if to confirm that the mask still existed. Funny, he thought, I almost forgot…

“Hey!” Ashley’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What’re you just standing there for? C’mon, Mask-Boy! Good lord, what’d I say about zoning out on me?”

There were a lot of people inside. People lined up at the counter. People standing around waiting for drinks. People sitting at tables. He could hear the faint commotion of voices stacking upon one another mixing with the bell’s chime every time the door swung open. I can’t go in there. He started to say so, but paused. He couldn’t just say that and not explain why. He needed a reason.

“Hey! What’s up with you, dude?”

“I’m not really hungry,” Oddball said, firing off the first excuse that came to mind. His heart was starting to beat heavier and heavier by the second. Pressure was building against his chest, pushing him away from the little brick building with with the dumb neon sign and windows much-too-large for it.

Ashley shrugged as her bewildered expression softened. “Suit yourself.”

Oddball let out a small sigh, the pressure releasing from his lungs. That was close.

A hand seized his wrist.

“But I am,” she said, through that natural smile, “let’s go!”

Wait, wait, no! Before he could say anything to stop her, before he could open his mouth to plead with her, before he could gain his footing or balance to resist, the girl in the red raincoat surged forward like the summer rainstorm’s wind, pulling him towards the café’s warmth. As the glowing windows and the neon sign and the brick drew closer in slow motion, Oddball’s eyes drifted. Ashley’s hood had fallen back in the gale of their flight, letting the rain shower her tied-back hair. She was beaming. She was unreal, exaggerated, cliché. She was something from fiction, with energy and glee to rival the unpredictable coastal climate. He hadn't even wanted to come here, yet here he was, being dragged by the arm towards a café by an inexplicably cheery girl in an oversized red raincoat.

Just who, Oddball thought as he gazed upon the girl who’d made him forget about his mask, are you?