"You should go home after this," he said, placing his fork on his plate. He sipped his lemon juice and glanced back to his phone, which was propped up on the table.

I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. Why do you insist on sending me home? From the moment we walked into the restaurant, Ashton said it almost ten times. I stared at him. What is it about you that makes me want to know more? So mysterious? Why are you so mean yet so kind to me?

Since we were in his car, many questions had formed in my head, from the deafening silence, that I wanted to ask him but didn't want to come off rude.

With a sigh, I averted my gaze around me. Ashton was kind enough to drag me into a restaurant in town. The place is weird. The walls, chairs, and tablecloths are all painted in red stripes. There were also large portraits hanging in each corner of the room. The waiters wear red polo shirts, and the waitresses wear red skirts.

Guess what? They didn't like the color of red.

I'm glad the owner didn't think to buy red tiles as well, because the place would be the epitome of horror. My gaze wanders around the room, but my peripheral vision sneaking glimpses of him. He sat calmly across from me, as if he owned the place. His fingers continue to drum on the table while he stares out the window. My gaze wandered out the window. Apart from cars, there's nothing else in there that's worth looking at.

I take a deep breath. Perhaps now is the right time. I approached him gently.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"You've just done so."

"Can we be friends?" I smiled.

He stared at me. His jaw tightened then looked away. "I don't need one." He said coldly. My shoulders hunched. I'm a little disappointed and hurt that he doesn't want to be friends with me. All I want is to know him better and can't do that without us being friends.

I tried to put back the smile on my face, I think.

"Everyone needs a friend to lean on." I said.

He smirked. His smirked wasn't playful. It's more of a mocking and dismissive sneer. Ashton appears to have a problem with friends. "Really? Some friends turned their shoulders just when they are needed the most."

I smiled. "Your word 'some' not all; it's a matter of picking the right one."

"Have you ever had the feeling of being abandoned?" he questioned.

"What?"

He shook his head. "You should examine those adorable ears of yours."

My hands flew into my ears and touched it. I could feel it getting warm and imagine it turning red.

"I told you I wasn't deaf!" I scowled. "I just couldn't believe what I'd heard."

To me, saying the word 'what' is like an expression. But the thing is, I only say it when I'm with Ashton. I'm afraid it'll become a habit of mine. I hope not.

Ashton checked his watch and glanced at me. He rubbed his brow and cleared his throat. Is there dandruff on his brows? I laughed at myself. What a lame joke I've got there.

"Find your way home." He blurted out.

"H-how about you?"

"I have something to deal with," he said, returning his attentions to the window. His chair did a scrape sounds as he stood up. He gulped his glass of water and reached for his signature leather jacket.

"Wait," I instructed. "It was her, right?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, turning around.

"You don't want to be my friend because of the girl I keep reminding you about."

When he didn't respond, I looked away. So I'm correct. My lips curved into a sad smile. Why am I constantly compared to someone I am not? Why aren't they able to see the real me? Not in someone else's stance? I'm sick of being a shadow of the person they see in my behalf.

I'm sick of being compared. I've spent my entire life in the shadow of Lucia, and now that she's gone, I'm still trapped in the darkness of our comparison. And what about now? I'm still being compared to a girl from someone else's past. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

I am strong. I am strong. I keep chanting to myself. I don't want to appear pitiful in front of him. I'm tired of being a wuss– a cry baby. This time, I want to prove to them that I am better than they imagined. I cleared my throat and looked him in the eyes with resolve.

"I just wanted to let you know that you're being unfair to me. It's unfair of you to snap on me during detention just because I reminded you of her. I'm not like her, and she's not like me. You should stop comparing me to that person.. especially hating me where I did nothing." I stood up. I wish I could tell my father the same thing too. I quickly gathered my bag and made my way to the door.

As I passed him, I heard him say, 'It was a mistake.' I came to a halt to look at him but turned away. I just need some time alone.

I stepped out of the restaurant and heave a deep breath. I looked up at the sky. It was painted with orange red with streaks of gray on the wide horizon. The sun was setting on the skyline, signaling that my long day was coming to an end. I'm exhausted and ready to hit the hay and be like the sun. I want to go home.

Fixing the strap of my bag, I start my way to the bus station. As I walk through the parking lot, all the guys standing near their motorcycles watch me incisively. One even has the nerve to point at me while talking to themselves. I'm not sure why, but my heart is racing faster than usual. I strode away, desperate to get away. I shrieked when a hand engulfed my wrist. I looked up and saw the person who has been nagging me to go home.

Ashton.

He almost gave me a heart attack! I pulled my hand out of his grip but he didn't let go. "Let me go."

I puffed a deep breath as his intimidating gaze locked with mine. For a long time, I was struck by his ocean blue eyes.

"You don't have to do this if you're only doing it to appease me," I said. "If you want us to remain strangers," I shrugged. "Cool. Let's do that." I took his hand off my shoulder and walked away. I don't want to be a bother. Why would I continue to push myself on someone who doesn't like me?

I'd been walking in the alley for about twenty minutes after leaving the restaurant. I'm fairly certain I saw a bus stop earlier. Unfortunately, I couldn't find where it is.

"Are you lost?" Someone called out. There were three guys coming on my way and to tell you, they don't look friendly. The guy who asked me has big piercings on his nose and lips. I unconsciously step back. The guy saw my uneasiness and grin. They step closer and closer and I step back simultaneously.

"Stand back." I said my voice quivered. My hands balled into fist preventing it from trembling with fear.

Why do troubles seem to find their way to me? My life takes on a dramatic turn over time. I simply want to live a normal, peaceful life. I just want to get back home! Is that too much to ask?

They walked in my direction and I ready my fist for a fight. The guys snickered with the action. Screw it. I'll dial 911 instead.

I let out a shriek when someone grabbed my hand and yanked me behind someone's back. Punches and kicks are flying all over the place. Then all I've heard are grunts and curses and suddenly, everything fell silent.

"You can open your eyes now," he said. His voice reminds me of someone. Slowly, I did. The three strangers are lying on the ground-- wounded and with broken bones.

"E-Easton." I croaked.

"It's okay." He assured and drew me into a hug. "You're safe now." He murmured.